The Impossible Girl...

[Deleted]

Rosen Industries Headquarters
Manhattan, New York
Tuesday, 3:54 P.M. Eastern Standard Time

What the fuck was Tony thinking? I mean, Kurt's on crutches, barely able to stand, and T-Bird nearly blows his head off. I mean, I thought they were friends...

That's where Cassandra Baker, Tony's girlfriend and Rosen's new Chief Financial Officer, cuts her off at the pass.

Don't delude yourself, Abigail. Kurt and Tony were never friends. Hell, I'm all sorts of giddy he finally broomed that cokehead wanker from our circle. You know how many times I had to slap his grubby cockbeaters off my arse when Tony wasn't around? Plus, there were things about Kurt you didn't know. Believe me, if you did, you'd probably have done worse to him.

Still, I'm worried about T; dude's acting weird. I just found out he had his Fighter Talk disabled. Shady can't reach him, neither have Ruth nor Morgan. It's like our man's a ghost...

BOO! *Smacks both their asses*

CRAP! You damn near gave me a stroke, muthafucka!

*sly smirk* Inappropriate workplace behavior, Mr. Savage.

Says the woman who insisted that we do it on the break-room table. Dunno what Doc Rosen did when she fixed you up, but, that engine's been revved to the redline since your physical rehab finished.

Shit, Cass, I didn't know you were ill.

Nothing the new boss couldn't fix. Speaking of that, Dr. Rosen's nearly ready to hold her press conference downstairs.

Right, right. Hey, would it be alright if Metal joined us? Since she does subcontract for us, she should get a look at the new operation. Plus, what Amy's got to announce is huge; she's been working on this project since her time in EWC. Revolutionary shit; I mean, this is some Arthur C. Clarke super future tech stuff I can't even begin to wrap my mind around.

Like, what?

Trust me, Abs...you have to see it to believe it.

Ten minutes later, on the main floor of Rosen H.Q., the place is standing room only. Reporters from almost every news outlet, tech magazine and blog, and reps from multiple venues of industry are gathered around the podium.

Dr. Rosen: *approaches the podium*

Alzheimer's. Dementia. Epilepsy. Hydrocephalus. Stroke and concussion related cerebral damage. Even comas. Ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you, in ten years...

Those conditions I mentioned; they'll be no more of a problem that your average case of athlete's foot?

Obviously, our audience is a little skeptical, judging by the incredulous murmuring.

Oh, I completely understand your trepidations; when you tell people you can drag the moon down to their level, they start thinking you've been testing out too many of your beta stage drug prototypes on yourself. *laughs from the audience* But in all seriousness....

Ever since my wrestling days, I've been developing this technology. In fact, it was the wrestling business that inspired me to develop this medical marvel. Seeing all those great competitors who risked life and limb for what they loved to do, and the horrific consequences that came with the territory. Concussions are an unfortunate way of life in the game. But soon, a gamechanger to change all gamechangers is upon us...

Cerebral Transmogrification. The ability to literally change and even repair the human brain.

Reporter: Um, Dr., that's medically impossible...

Oh, you sweet, ignorant, narrow minded internet rag journalist; I know that's what your graduated from state university quack doctor tells you, but, Sweetie Pie...

I'm Dr. Amy Ester Rosen. I do 10 impossible things before my morning bagel.

The poor schmuck who just crammed his foot in his mouth enjoys a round of ridicule from his colleagues while the Doctor continues.

The human mind is the greatest, most potentially powerful computing system the world has ever seen, and yet...

It's pretty much a glorified potato clock that tells you when you have to take a dump!

Rosen Technologies has found a way to fix that clock when the spud goes bad. Through a process that involves electrochemical manipulation, nanotechnology that repairs each cell at the very molecular level, and a simple, yet, thorough regimen of cognitive and physical rehab, we can repair injuries that would take months, years, to never fully recover from, and not only can we expect full cognitive restoration in days, we can also significantly improve mental functions. Not only can we give people their lives back; we can make them better than ever.

Damn...*looks over at Tony*...little Miss Frankenstein can do that shit?

But Tony and Cass just shush her as the speech continues.

Now, the process isn't complete; our research is still a few years from full introduction to the public sector, but, we've already have a successful case of the technology working.

Less than 6 months ago, I found this young woman in dire straights. A horrible accident left her in a deep coma. Doctors told her family she would more than likely never come out of it, and if she did, there was no hope of a normal life for her. 6 months later, they were right; she wouldn't have a normal life. Because what myself and my wonderful staff have done...

Is give her an EXTRAORDINARYlife. And in return, she's been a blessing to all our lives...

Especially yours truly!She turns stage right and blows a kiss to somebody offstage.

I can give you all the specs, all the intel, all the schematics, but like the man said; the proof is in the pudding. So, allow me the pleasure, the HONOR, of introducing to the world, the greatest pudding cup even concocted...

My patient, my friend, my Impossible Girl....

MISS DIANNA BICKS!!

Are you...are you fucking serious? That crazy bitch was on the show last night....

Abbey, luv; show some respect.

Just...hear her out, Metal. Trust me, I thought she was crazy too, but, once you give her a chance...

You'll be the crazy one for not believing.

And out she walks to a stunned room. Her walk, posture, smooth, composed. No limping, no shaking or lapses. In fact, she moves across the stage with eerie agility and immaculate posture. She waives like a politician to the podium, about to give a rally speech to her campaign supporters.

She approaches the podium, takes a sip of water, gives Dr. Rosen a peck on the cheek, then...

Thank you, Doctor. What a beautiful day today. Warm, nice, bright sunny day. I like the light.

How can I not? Just a few months ago, I was living, figuratively and literally, in darkness

TBC after I get some lunch

[Deleted]

Sparks Steak House, Manhattan, New York
8:22 pm, the Aster Room. After the conference

Look, not to insult you, little Miss Miracle...

Considering the fact you just sprang for a meal that would have taken me 2 days worth of working a pole to Motley Crew records to afford this spread....

She goes to light a Black and Mild, but before she can put it to her lips, the waiter presents to her a La Gloria Cubana, V cut and already prepped for consumption. He even lights it for her, and as she lets the smoke roll down her gullet, her eyes are rolling in the back of her head.

Oh, God; I didn't think it was possible for smoke to give a girl an orgasm...wow....

I'm still inclined to call bullshit on you and Doc's super science project. I mean...you were dead. Stone cold, 100%, as muthafucking disco and MySpace on a Tuesday morning brain dead. You don't come back from that, period. That doesn't happen, not in my world.

Cass and Tony, who were before Metal decided to let her skepticism hit the air, busy cozying up to each other with a $200 bottle from some region in France where they screen the people who step on the grapes like CIA agents, are aghast at her bluntness.

Jesus, Metal....

Abby, you saw the proof with your own eyes; the medical reports, the testimony from the physicians. The process worked. The technology is there. Dianna is walking, talking proof the procedure is for real.

Maybe, but, it's all....I dunno how to say it...unreal? Unnatural?

*Turns to their dinner host* Hey, forgive her...

For what, Tony? I appreciate her candor. You two could take a lesson from her. You and Cass could take a few lessons from it. In fact, I'm a bit disappointed in you...

When have YOU ever been the one to bite your tongue around me?

Dianna was truly the oddball out of this dinner party. While the others were enjoying fine wines, rich meats, and all sorts of assorted decadent delicacies, her own meal was surprising simple...

Halibut and fresh greens, all organic. She drank water. While others indulged, she ate at a very disciplined pace. While the rest of the group laughed and reveled, she seemed to have this demeanour as if she were contemplating something beyond their frivolity, or merely listened, almost taking mental notes of the proceedings.

Please, continue.

Not only am I having a tough time buying the neo-Frankenstein routine, but...let's not forget, you came out just yesterday and blatantly stated you were gonna kill a muthafuckin' man in the ring. Not beat him, not embarrass him, not teach him a lesson...BOOM...smoke him. Send his ass express to the morgue. I mean, even in our game, that's a pretty goddamn heavy duty statement to make. Jay may be scum, but he...

Before we touch that subject *sips some water*, I'm quite familiar with your background, so, I think you should be briefed on the primers of my background story, Abby...

I was abandoned as a child. In fact, when I was found, I was, maybe, 3, 4 weeks old. Left in a freezing rain on a doorstep in a city who's exterior beauty belies a very, very dirty and decrepit soul. It's just as awful as Motown; it just has nicer scenery. Left, in nothing but a breadbasket and a blanket; no note, no reason for it, nothing.

.....Shit....

I should've died that night. In fact, for nearly 3 weeks, I battled an infection as an infant that should have killed me. My whole life, from the day I was born, to this moment, I have been surrounded by destruction, by hate, by the greed and pettiness of those who, at best, are blissfully ignorant of their shortcomings, and at worst, frankly don't give a fucking shit who or what they hurt, because they are so empty inside, no amount of any substance can fill the void inside them.

I could've easily fallen into one of those categories. So could have Tony, or Cass. It is easy to destroy. Look....

She grabs a handmade crystal champagne flute, and shatters it against the wall.

See? Two seconds. It took two seconds to turn that into garbage. Nothing impressive about that, right? The man that made that class, crafted it by hand, which took, I dunno, quite awhile, I'm not an expert on glassmaking by any means, but, he sacrificed his time, his energy, to give the world something it didn't have before. He created a great thing, even if it is a small thing. A small thing with a soul...

Nothing about destruction has any soul to it. No creativity. No life. No love. Just hate, and venom, and a desperate attempt to feed a monster that will never be sated.

Look at Jayden. The moniker alone should tell you all you need: Destroyer of Worlds. Even if he wasn't guilty of the act he now stands in judgment for; the rap sheet alone damns him. Up until now, he's been nothing but an extension of his father's legacy. He steals, he lies, he coerces. he treats his friends like bagmen, he treats a queen like Ruth like a comforter for his dick, and the one thing he DID actually create...

A talented, unique, indivual young man who is his own island...as a mere extension of himself.

But it isn't just him. So many of them: The Storms, the Silvers, the McNeils...

So many takers. So many breakers. Very, very, few willing to sacrifice to make something worthwhile.

*walks over to Black* I remember an EWC when even the worst of the worst were creators on the level of Einstein's and Da Vinci's. They forged dreams, ideas, universes. They made it acceptable to tell people it is okay to go beyond themselves, instead of stooping to their levels, trying to be relatable to people who do nothing but follow, and live banal lives.

I may come across as a bit of an elitist; I am, nothing wrong with being an average Joe. It's the Average Joe that keeps the gears spinning, but...

I remember an EWC where men and women weren't AFRAID of being paragons, of being primes.

Now, just angry, loud, empty bags of meat filling airwaives and YouTube vids with shit with less substance than helium balloons. It's no wonder the Old Gods...

*mournfully whispers to herself* My old friends and enemies

No longer want anything to do with the place. They had heaven...

And Mac, of all the goddamn fucking people, let it slip away, for a few extra advertising dollars.

A sad but warm smile comes across her lips as she sees this room of people she loves so much, and one she's beginning to love herself

Metal...Abbey...

I do not want to kill Jayden Smith, nor burn what Mac made. Gods do not destroy because it is fun, nor profitable, but because as long as they continue to conduct themselves as they are, this fed will die from the sickness of greed, banality, and fear of being above those that gleefully give tribute to see their heroes, their gods, walk amongst them. You and Tony, I see in you men and women like Moses, Hayden, Rosen, Saint, Memphis Reigns and Level One.

I understand you being skeptical of me, my motives. But I assure you, Black, what I do isn't out of hate. Nothing I've ever done, even to my worst enemies, was out of rage and anger. Anger does nothing but ruin.

Then, why are you doing this?

Because I made a promise...and a woman like me...

Always keeps hers promises.

[Deleted]

That was creepy.

The cab ride home was a little less intense than the dinner. Tony was weary, nearly nodding off while Cass's head was on his shoulder.

Considering what the poor thing's been through, I don't blame her. I mean, if you stop to think about it, what she's been through, I don't think ANYBODY in history's gone through that. She's basically a science experiment at this point. Hard to feel human, when you can't even feel comfortable in your own skin.

That's the thing, Cass; that's NOT her own skin. It's like they crammed something else inside her. I mean, I can't even describe how she is feeling. But then again, that gal was always unpredictable. You never knew what she was gonna do next. Sometimes, I don't think she knows how to feel.

He looks out the window, distant, feeling a bit lost.

What about you, man of mine?

That, he found even more difficult to fathom.

I should be pissed. I lost to that cocksucker. All those promises I made, and...

Too much weight dumped onto your shoulders, love, at once. Company getting bought out, her coming back into our lives...

You pretty much stopped training to stay by my side when I had the operation....

Which I'm gonna tell you right off the bat, woman....*smiling*...infinity out of infinity times....

I'd rather lose a belt than you, any day of the week. *rubs her hair*

So, what now?

As fanatically as D's sounding, she is right. We don't do something, shit's gonna be a mess. Maybe a housecleaning is in order, I'm just wondering if it'll just be that, or a full fledged jihad, because if it starts going too far...

Friend or no friend, she crosses the line...

*looks down*

Besides that, I don't know. I've already reached the top, where do you go from there? Where? What now? Once you've hit the sun, where else can you go from there?

****

Take a page out of Dianna's book, Tony...wherever you want to go.

Tony had to admit, the view of Central Park from here was breathtaking. Rosen's company set them up with a swank apartment on Central Park West when they came in to work in NY. The place did make him miss the space and his yard in Marvin Gardens, but...

This view, from pretty much the top of the city...man, what a view indeed.

Cass hands Tony a glass of wine, sitting down on her patio chair.

Your problem's always been, and forgive me for using this worn out old cliché, but you never have really stopped to smell the roses. You go a 1,000 kph all the damned time....

There's always one thing I take my time doing...

Cheeky bastard! *grinning* But, back to my point before your dick got in the way...

With you, it's always go, go, go! Soon as you finish a job, it's off to the next one. Squash one beef, it's start or finish the next one. End one fire, you're rushing out to the next blaze. Seriously, I had to get surgery on my uteris for you to finally take a break. Tony, you're not the old guys on this roster. Tell me again, how old are you?

26...which is younger than you!He gleefully teases her.

Yeah, by a year; you didn't exactly move into Cougar Town when we hooked up. You've got an old soul, but Tony, you're a young man. Very young. You beat yourself up over losing to men with sometimes DECADES of experience under their belts. And barely losing. Smith Jones was a dick, but, he'd been doing it for years. Jaden, nearly what, 15, 20....

Less than 2 1/2 years in pro wrestling, you reached the top. Two years, part time, not in it to win it, eat, breathe, shite, jizz, and die for it like these fanatically tight wearing monkeys (let's be serious, this is pretty much a part time gig for you)and you've done more with it than men and women who've done this religiously for most of their lives. Regardless of what happens after this...

You changed the industry. You gave them something new, something different. A breath of fresh air. Nobody can take that away from you. And not matter what you do at this point...

Retire, win a belt, go off and play Apocalypse Now with our favorite result of experimental mad science...

You did it your way. Because that's the Tony Savage I've come to love.

Awwww....I knew there was a reason I keep giving my biggest fan some dick.

*dryly* Ha, Ha; stick to whooping arse and plotting shit with freaks of nature; comedy's not your strong suit.

She pauses for a moment, pours another glass, then asks....

Oh, Abbey brought this up...

She mentioned something about X murdering somebody? Uh, what's that all about?

Oh, that....

That is a bit of a complicated matter, so....

Pour me another one; make sure it's a double...

This is going to take some time and Dutch Courage to explain.

See you next week.