Photographers rushed about inside of a studio and set up lights to get the perfect shot for an article/photo spread for an upcoming edition of EBWF magazine. In the middle of all this was a very expensive, platinum colored throne that was being occupied by Maryse. It was very similar to the throne Paul Heyman had given Maryse upon winning last years Queen of the Ring tournament and joining the short lived Coalition stable. Except that this one was so glitzy and sparkly that it could probably be seen if it were on the moon. Maryse, dressed in a silver colored version of her ring attire, watched all the rushing about and going on's like a monarch as she stood upon her throne. Her arms were adorned with platinum and gold and she even held a scepter that was awarded to her for winning the tournament and it was in an equally bejeweled state. A pair of dark sunglasses covered her eyes and a crown fit for a Queen rested upon her head.
Maryse: I want this shit to look like a rap video. Someone get me a fog machine and a gun!
A small army of shirtless men were also a part of the shoot and Maryse observed them while lifting up her shades.
Maryse: ..I'm going to have sex with you. And you. And..yeah, I guess you too.
Maryse took a glance downwards and noticed that Todd Grisham had arrived. She sneered and eased down into her throne.
Maryse: But not you if my life depended on it. Hey! Lift my throne up so he has to look up when he's talking to me!
A few of the bulky models hoisted the throne upwards and Todd tilted his neck up in an uncomfortable position while Maryse stared forward and sipped from a ridiculously huge chalice that was also silver and sparkly.
Todd Grisham: Ah, Maryse, as last years Queen of the Ring, a lot of our fans are very interested in what you have to say about this years tournament. Would it be possible for you to come down here and speak with me?
Maryse: No.
The blonde crossed one leg over the other while tapping her scepter against one of her palms.
Maryse: I'm the Queen and I don't have to do shit. Bitches.
Todd Grisham: Well, you're going to be defending your crown this year against a very large field filled with women who are going to be gunning for your throne.
Maryse opened her mouth to speak but paused and held up a finger that began to stroke itself along her chin.
Maryse: I guess I should watch what I say. Evidently, calling people like Trish Stratus "old" or calling people like Natalya "fat" is cliche. Here I thought I was being honest. But that IS a response I would expect from fat, old people.
Todd Grisham: How are you after coming up short in becoming the first ever Women's Tag Champs?
Maryse: My back is a little sore because Natalya put me in the Sharp Shooter and, like I said, she's a gross fatty so I didn't really have a choice but to tap. Otherwise I'm fine. Who is my first opponent anyway?
Todd Grisham: Brooke Tessmacher.
Maryse tried to remain straight faced but soon began to snicker upon hearing this information.
Maryse: Oh. Well, let me give you the non "cliche" answer response first. I'm not exactly shaking in my boots since the only thing Brooke has ever done was win a battle royal at WrestleMania and that's only because she's so unimportant and unimposing that everyone LITERALLY forgot she was in the match. Sneaky little skank. And then when she got her title match she lost to that lame ass, green haired chick that's packing my title around in like three minutes. So, yeah, I have less respect for her than I do most people. Now do you want the cliche answer? She's got a huge, nasty, jiggly ass and that's the only reason she's employed. I guess some people are into that but I'm positive that those kind of people aren't allowed to cross busy streets without someone holding their hand.
Todd Grisham: And if--
Maryse: Wait, shut up for a second.
A few of the photographers got closer and Maryse rose from her throne and straddled her scepter while licking the tip of it. The flashes died down and she sat back into her throne.
Maryse: So, anyway, I'm sure Brooke will think differently and that's cool She's gonna cut her usual "the world is going to see a different side of me, this is a rebirth, I'm not completely useless, blah blah" promo that she does like..three times a month. And everyone who still eat paste post kindergarten will clap their filthy little hands for her but we all know I'm knocking her out in the first round. I won this tournament last year, easily and I went on to win the Women's Title. History is going to repeat itself for both of us. I'm going to champion again and her status quo remains exactly the same: no one knows or cares about who she is.
Todd was ready to pose a question but Maryse interrupted again.
Maryse: Seriously. What is she going to say about me? That she's hotter than me? Because we all know THAT'S a lie. Is she going to call me a whore? Big deal. I like sex and I like a lot of it. Plus, she's been passed around so many times by the guy's on the roster that we're calling her "Sloppy Seconds Suzie" backstage. Is she going to say I'm not a good wrestler or something? I don't know how to do a "Jumping Bomb Angel Double Stomp" but I'll kick anyone chick's ass on this roster without knowing a bunch of stupid, indy moves. And, uh, she's BROOKE TESSMACHER so if she said something like that I might have to point out the irony.
Todd: I--
Maryse: Can we add a stipulation to this match? Could we have the very first ever "Loser Never Tweets" again match? Have you READ this women's tweet's? I think she might be autistic. Or a robot. It's seriously all:
Maryse's eyes go wide and her voice becomes slow and robotic.
"I have a cupcake and someone gave me another cupcake so now I have two cupcakes."
"Let's go sports team."
"I really enjoy this horrible top 40 song."
Her voice returns to it's normal rude pitch.
Maryse: God damn, shut UP, bitch! Nobody cares about your life!
All of this twitter talk had Maryse fuming and she begin's tapping her scepter into her palm a little harder.
Maryse: I should break her thumbs so she can't tweet any more. I'm confident I would be awarded some kind of humanitarian award. In fact, that's the only chance she has. Maybe if her tweets popped up on the 'tron I would get distracted by how brain dead they are and she MIGHT be able to roll me up. I actually think I'm getting dumber every time I think about her. Do you have any actual questions Todd or are you just going to stand down there and remain inadequate.
Todd Grisham: Well, if you do manage to get past Brooke--
Maryse: Manage to get past BROOKE? Did you hear what I just said?! All she's ever got was a lucky win here or there but she's NEVER come close to my level. That girl is pathetic. The next words that come out of your mouth had better be thought provoking or I swear to god I'll have them drop this throne on you!
Todd Grisham: U-Uh! I just wanted to know your plans! If win the tournament for a second year are you going to be able to handle a mostly untested foe like MsChif, our reigning champion!
Maryse: Your life is spared. For the moment. I haven't had a singles match against MsChif because she's been too afraid to put her title up against me. So now that I have to jump through hoops to get to her overrated ass, when DO stomp Brooke and everyone else, I'm going to be quite pissed. When someone like MsChif is representing your division, it suffers. Just like, god forbid, if someone like Brooke ever represented it. Can you IMAGINE that? It needs yours truly to make ANYONE give a damn. Your Queen..has..spoken..
Maryse dismisses Todd with a dismissive hand gesture, much like the wicked ruler she envisions herself to be. Flashes continue to go off as the scene draws to a close.
