Enter... Femme Fatales!

**Xellence** Mon Nov 30, 2009 11:10 am

~A security guard stands at the back doors of the BTWE Arena, arms folded across his chest. He’s a big man and confident in his authority. Far off in the distance a low roar can be made out. The security guard raises an eyebrow above his sunglasses and peers off to the left and then to the right. Seeing nothing, he shrugs and retakes his position. The roar grows louder and again the guard looks right and left. Still nothing. The roar suddenly grows impossibly loud and from out of nowhere a Harley with tandem riders screeches to a halt in front of the back doors. Both riders are helmeted and clad in leather, the driver large and the passenger on back much smaller. The security guard puffs himself up and starts shouting at the pair. The driver revs the motor several times before finally shutting it off.

Guard: …can’t park here!!!

~The passenger dismounts and removes her helmet to reveal a striking raven-haired beauty underneath. She shakes her head and her hair falls gracefully, framing her face. She steps up the guard, unzipping her jacket seductively. He gulps and stammers.

Guard: Ve… very sorry, miss. Bu… but you can’t pa… park that bike here.

Misty: Check that list, big man. I think you’ll find us on it. Name’s Misty. Misty ~ she leans close to his face so that their lips are almost touching ~ Meaner.

~The guard can barely breathe as he scans the list and finds the name.

Guard: Y… y… yeah. It’s right here, Miss Meaner.

Misty: Call me, Misty.

Guard: Mi… Misty. But, and I’m genuinely sorry, you still can’t park here. Your boyfriend will have to take his bike to…

~At the word “boyfriend”, the driver leaps from the bike and rushes at the guard. Misty holds the driver back.

Misty: Come on now! We don’t want to make too much of a scene on our first day.

Guard: Please calm down, sir!

~The rider rips off HER helmet and throws it at the guard, narrowly missing his head. She’s big, blonde, and not bad looking… if you can get past the snarling and spitting. Misty pushes her back and gestures for calm. The rider huffs and puffs but stops moving forward. Misty turns back to the guard.

Misty: If you’ll take another look at that list, you’ll find Anna Ballic too.

Guard: Right, right. Sorry, ma’am. Honest mistake.

~Misty turns and looks at Anna, then back at the guard, suddenly cold.

Misty: “Honest mistake”? What do you mean by that exactly?

Guard: Uh… just that… well, I mean look at the size of her!

Misty: ~shaking her head~ I tried. I tried to be nice. But you had to go there. All yours, Anna.

~Without warning Anna unleashes a furious ‘Roid Rage, raining blow after blow on the hapless guard. Barely conscious, he is then hoisted up into powerbomb position by a seething Anna. At this, Misty launches herself off the Harley and dropkicks the guard in the face while Anna executes a high impact powerbomb. The guard is unconscious but Misty talks to him anyway.

Misty: We’re Femme Fatales and that’s what we call a Femme Fatality! Don’t forget it or we’ll be happy to remind you. Come on, Anna.

~Misty pulls Anna toward the door before the big woman can inflict any more punishment.

Misty: Oh, and if our bike isn’t here when the show’s over… well, I think you can figure out what’ll happen then.