Post by spacestylebetsy on Jul 21, 2018 19:55:43 GMT -5
The camera flickers to life as upbeat trance style music starts to blare. The words “Who Wants to Know?” appear in bubbly blue font across the screen. The music fades as the letters disappear and Betsy Granger is seen behind her desk, leaning back in her chair, Converse clad feet propped up on the desk. Unlike her professional appearance last week, she’s wearing black, torn jeans, red Converse sneakers, a red crop top and a Deadpool ball cap, that’s currently over her face. Her arms are crossed over her stomach and she seems completely unaware that the cameras are rolling. From off camera, someone starts throwing Starbursts at her. This is effective, when one of the Starbursts catches her square on her cheek. With a start, she kicks her feet off the desk and adjusts her ball cap. She looks around, her eyes still hazy from her nap, and realizes that the camera is on her and blinking. Immediately alert, she clears her throat and fumbles with the papers on her desk.
Betsy Granger: “Hello! Welcome to ‘Who Wants to Know?’ with me, your host, Betsy Granger! I just wanted to start off this second episode by thanking all of you who tuned in for our pilot! Ratings where double what we were expecting, And that’s all thanks to you! Give yourself a round of applause and a pat on the back. I always knew I had the best fans in the universe!”
Applauding vigorously for a few moments, Betsy looks around her staging area and smiles to someone off camera. When she finishes, she selects a small index card from her pile and waves it carelessly in the air.
Betsy Granger: So there’s something I’m going to address before I move on to the exciting part of this weeks show.
She holds up the index card on which there were two questions, the same one, but different ways of asking. One says “What dat mouf do?” and the second asks more clearly “What does that mouth do?”. Betsy rolls her eyes heavily and sets down the card.
Betsy Granger: Two weeks in a row, I’ve gotten this question. And I feel if I don’t put a stop to it now, it’s going to get asked every week until it becomes a fucking epidemic. So, what does this mouth do? It tells the virgins asking the question to fuck off. It doesn’t matter what this mouth does because you’ll never have the opportunity to find out. So take that and stick it up your useless urethra's.
Tossing the card over her shoulder, she watches as Barksicle comes whizzing across the stage, ears spinning and tail wagging with excitement. He disappears from view as quickly as he appears into it and seems excited by someone out of view. Betsy smiles fondly towards the robotic dog and looks back into the camera.
Betsy Granger: With that out of the way, let’s get down to business, shall we? For week two, I managed to acquire a guest of considerable fame, undeniable talent, and maybe a mild personality disorder? I’m no doctor, so I couldn’t tell you for sure, but I do know one thing; The mask is nifty and the man is pretty great and someone I’m proud to include among my friends. He’s the current Vengeance Pro Undisputed and RINGENHOSTEL champion, an NGW Hall of Famer and the first ever guest to grace the stage on “Who Wants To Know”! So will you help me welcome the Pharaoh himself, Tyberius King or, as he chooses to be called nowadays, the Pharaoh Wadjehotep!
Pushing a button on her desk causes a clap track to sound across the room. Pharaoh Wadjethotep comes into the frame wearing a Motörhead t-shirt, a pair of red and black Nike shorts, and black chuck’s. He is also carrying a small pastry box and sits down in a chair next to Betsy. The blonde sticks out her hand to him, only to have it looked at before her looks back up at her face. She turns back towards the camera, barely concealing the eye roll that followed.
Betsy Granger: My silent guest. This isn’t going to work for too much longer. Say hello to the viewers… All 20 of them so far!
Wadjethotep just nods his head back and forth.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Hello. I brought you these.
He speaks coldly and hands the box to Betsy.
She takes the box and opens it. Her green eyes warm up and she gives her friend a happy smile.
Betsy Granger: Aaawww, the scones you wanted me to try!!
Licking her lips, she carefully shuffles through the box, observing each of the flavors before picking an apple cinnamon flavored one. She takes a bite and looks over at Wadjethotep and nods, her eyes widening and shooting him a thumbs up.
Betsy Granger: What the hell, these are the bomb shit! Thank you for your offering!
She slides the box over his way and licks some of the crumbs off her fingers.
He nods in approval. His snake face stays the same however.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Thank you. I made them myself.
Betsy Granger: No kidding?! I suddenly have this vision of you, in the kitchen wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron and your mask.
She giggles loudly for a few moments, but is sobered quickly by his silence. Clearing her throat, she plays with her already organized papers, rolling them up and tapping them on the desk.
Betsy Granger: Gee, I guess the mask took away your sense of humor. Right, then! Straight to business we go!
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: I don’t know what mask you’re talking about. This is my face.
He says bluntly and stern. Betsy answers his stern tone by raising a quizzical eyebrow, her face showing clearly her desire to argue this. It’s an internal struggle that lasts a full minute as she maintains eye contact with her friend. Finally, she grins and sweeps a hand as if to wave away the awkward moment.
Betsy Granger: As you say, then.
Taking a quick glance at her papers, she decides to plow right in to her own questions.
Betsy Granger: So I was wondering what you knew about my opponent for Dissension this week, another recent Hall of Famer in the halls of NGW by the name of KEG. Seems the powers that be want to waste no time in having me get my feet wet. I was curious as to what you knew about him as a competitor and if you had any tips that might help me in this match.
Wadjethotep turns to face Betsy more.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: He’s an idiot. An absolute idiot. His style is sloppy. I swear he’s more interested in drinking than winning anything. I’m almost confident that all of his major wins have been by accident. You want to know how to win this match? Just think. You don’t even have to think for a full second. I know that you’re smarter than most, myself included, but this man makes first graders look like Tesla.
The young blonde had chosen the wrong moment to take another bite of her scone. As the Pharaoh delivered the last line, Betsy choked on her scone as her laughter bubbled up her throat. She gasps, reaching for her water and taking a large sip. She holds up her finger and chugs for several moments. Wadjethotep faces her but his face remains unchanged.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Please don’t die. Not here. Not like this.
Betsy shakes her head and puts her cup down. Wiping her eyes with a tissue, she clears her throat several times before facing her guest once more.
Betsy Granger: What do we say to the God of Death? Not today.
Clearing her throat once more, she looks back down at her scone and decides against the next bite… At least for now.
He just shrugs.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Osiris isn’t that bad of a guy. He’s got a rough job and people just don’t understand.
This time, Betsy is unable to hide the rolling of her bright green eyes. They land directly on Wadjethotep’s and her gaze is unwavering under his coldness.
Betsy Granger: Rough job or not, I’m not walking through his gates until I’m good and damn ready. I don’t have enough riches to tip his scales yet, anyway.
His tone lightened slightly.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: I never said I wanted you to go did I? So what’s next?
Betsy Granger: Let’s see… Let’s see… Ah, here’s a decent one. This comes to us from Billy Reed and he says “Hi, Betsy! I was hoping to get to know what makes a great wrestler in your view, thanks!”
She taps the desk with her papers again as she ponders over her answer for a moment.
Betsy Granger: Good inquiry, Billy. I always enjoy a subjective question like this, because there can never be a wrong answer. So I suppose for me, a great wrestler is made when you have equal parts passion for what you do, talent in doing it, and a whole lot of luck in your bookings. Most people will tell you it’s all about who you know or who you blow, but I prefer to remain optimistic in this one. I can tell you from my own approach in the climbing of the proverbial ladder, I observe those I consider great and I take little pieces of each of them into myself. Skills in the ring and on the mic, the ability to do business as fairly as possible without being walked all over like a pushover, and the focus and drive it takes to reach every goal I set for myself. I brag about being the smartest in the business, but all these brains won’t mean shit if I don’t acquire the skills I have to defend them physically when my opponent is trying to bash my head repeatedly into a ringpost. Mental warfare is of course a major gameplayer in what makes some of these people the greatest, but if you don’t learn to balance in-ring skill and mic etiquette, what’s the point?
She turns in her chair and gestures for her distinguished guest to give his opinion on the subject. Hotep faces the camera and gives it a hard look.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Be the opposite of Keg.
He then turns to Betsy.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Seriously, how did they let him in the hall of fame? We’re they just like “damn, we don’t really have anyone this year. Someone see if they can drag Keg out of a gutter”.
Male Voice: “It was a foolish decision, my Pharaoh.”
Unexpectedly, a young man emerges from the shadows of the set. His dark hair contrasts his bright blue eyes, his skin a natural pale complexion, and eerily he smiles. On the stage, Rémiel Fontaine quietly approaches them. He directly faces Wadjethotep and he lowers himself to a knee before him.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Forgive my intrusion. I wanted to make sure all was well…”
Slowly, he turns his attention to Betsy and grins.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Don't fret. I am not here to cause an issue. Nor am I here to trigger the Awkward One… again.”
Betsy’s face darkens almost instantaneously at the arrival of the Prince, the very same man who had attacked her best friend. Her well-manicured hands tighten over the piece of paper in her hand as she eyes Prince Sekhmethotep warily.
Betsy Granger: “Excuse me… I don’t remember inviting you anywhere near this set. All is well enough… So kindly remove yourself.”
Her hands continue to tighten and loosen over the paper as she remains as polite as she possibly can, despite her desire her to leap over the table and scratch the boy's eyes out. There is a strain in her voice as the words leave her lips that are not lost on either the Prince, or the Pharaoh. Wadjethotep looks over Sekhmethotep’s way. Politely, the young man bows his head towards his mentor in respect.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “In this vast multiverse, there are only a select few I answer to…”
He raises his head towards Betsy and a smirk crosses his face.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “And you are not one of them, mortal. In fact, you are just a speck of insignificance. The only reason why you're attempting to become relevant to me now is because Signorino Adam is your best friend and you want to fight his battles for him. You are one of the many who twists and twirls his strings, making him dance like the puppet you all want him to be… but I'm very close to setting him free from all of you heathens.”
Her green eyes absolutely blaze as her skin takes on the bright glow that happens when her emotions are particularly high. She rises from behind her desk and walks slowly towards the kneeling Prince. She bears down on him, her rage clear all over her face. When she speaks, her voice is dangerously low.
Betsy Granger: “You don’t know the first thing about me, you wannabe Prince of Egypt. You think I’m just Betsy Granger, girl of Earth, nothing but an insignificant speck in this universe? You son of a bitch… I’ll have you know this now. I was chosen by a royal family in an entirely different star system to be their protector… They put into me the power and energy of a star to protect their people and the world they created.”
She thrusts her hand directly into the Prince's face, which is now shining brighter than any of the lights in her little studio.
Betsy Granger: “I’m not just Betsy Granger. I am the chosen Princess Aurelia, deemed worthy to protect not just their world, but all the worlds beyond. I am a traveler of time and space and I have seen worlds and being you couldn’t even imagine. Do you really believe I would play my best friend like a puppet on a string when I have spent the better part of a year helping to liberate enslaved beings from other worlds and led them to their freedom?”
Betsy’s hand comes back to smack the Prince, but the Pharaoh catches it. Betsy glares daggers at them both, her anger causing her to shine uncontrollably. She backs away from the young man, turning to walk back towards her desk… Before turning back around and spitting at his feet.
Betsy Granger: “You disgust me.”
Sekhmethotep chuckles darkly, shakes his head slowly, and bears his teeth in lunacy. But before he can say a word…
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Do not speak a single word. Do not come out here and criticize the way Betsy treats him. Also, how are you going to set him free when you can’t win clean? I saw that low blow. I don’t know how you would think I wouldn’t. I never told you or taught you to do that. You have brought shame upon you which brings shame upon me. Which brings shame upon the Gods. So next time you ever decide to do anything like that again, you won’t be up here arguing with Betsy. You’ll be dealing with me.”
His Pharaoh’s words ring in his ears. For a moment, it is Rémiel who surfaces as his bright blue eyes widen in shock. There is fear in his eyes and dread on his face. Unlike Sekhmethotep, the young man clearly understands Betsy's power and he lowers his head. His vision is not deterred by the clear eye contacts he wears. He closes his eyes and presses his lips together in a thin line.
Rémiel Fontaine: “I-I'm sorry, Ty…”
There's another visible shiver that runs through his body. The Prince takes over immediately and he aggressively bites his lower lip, intentionally drawing blood. He does this to silence his vessel.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “My apologies, Pharaoh. The cheating and vile tactics will not happen again. They were the actions of a boy. Please treat them as such and forgive him. I will not allow you, Sekhmet, or Wadjet to be dishonored again.”
Betsy continues to glare, crossing her arms now, allowing her temper to die down a bit. The glowing begins to fade as she clears her throat loudly. Common sense and respect for her guest dictated that she should take up her post behind her desk again, but that stubborn streak kept her planted on the spot.
Betsy Granger: “That’s all good and well, pretty boy, but it’s still time for you to leave before I shove a scone down your throat. Not that it’s anything you aren’t used to, right Rem?”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Betsy, please, that was a little much.”
The stubborn young blonde continues to pout, but Ty’s gentle reprimand brings her back from her temper. The glow fades completely, and she nods towards him. She turns towards the Prince and stares at him stone face.
Betsy Granger: “Quite right, my friend. My apologies, Prince Imhotep. That was a bit much… Although, let’s be honest now… Some of that statement IS accurate.”
A slight scowl briefly forms across Sekhmethotep’s face before he regards Betsy. Slowly, a confident yet relaxed smile crosses his face and he chuckles softly to her comment.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “...Why yes, I do perform oral sex gracefully for my boyfriend, J.D Ryan. What of it?”
Wadjethotep grips the chair before yelling.
Prince Wadjethotep: “Enough!”
His yell shocks both Sekhmethotep and Betsy as it is unusual to hear him talk at such a volume as Hotep or Ty. The cobra head then turns to Sekhmethotep.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Listen. I brought you here to watch and learn. To see how to use forums like this to promote your voice and your vision. Yet you come on here, unannounced and uninvited, to promote those things in a way which aren’t becoming. You may not get along with Betsy, but this is her show. One she politely invited me to do with her. So for the rest of the time we are here we are going to respect her and treat her with kindness. You know the rule of the law. It is the whole of the law, Betsy has not spit venom at me so she shall not receive it. Do you understand?”
Betsy turns quick enough for the Pharaoh to miss her look of smug victory, but not the Prince. Sekhmethotep lowers his head in shame, knowing he and his vessel has displeased the Pharaoh. A drop of blood trails down from his lower lip and drips onto the stage floor.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Yes, my Pharaoh… Please excuse me.”
He rises to his feet slowly, respectfully bowing towards Wadjethotep, and he makes his way towards the side where he watches quietly yet carefully. Rémiel is still young. He will learn his place soon enough. Betsy, meanwhile, examines the exchange between the two men with avid interest. Once Rémiel has retreated to the side, Betsy turns her attention back to Wadjethotep.
Betsy Granger: “Allow me to apologize for my less than gracious behavior towards your… servant… trainee… lapdog?”
The question in Betsy’s voice is genuine, not a dig at the young man now quietly watching from his spot. The Prince hisses slightly.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Protégé.”
Betsy rolls her eyes dramatically and turns her head back towards the masked Prince Sekhmethotep.
Betsy Granger: “Last I checked, no matter the title, inferiors are meant to be neither seen nor heard. So if you don’t mind…”
She once again turns back to Wadjethotep, who, despite his masked face, doesn’t look pleased with Betsy’s impertinence towards his underling.
Betsy Granger: “Here’s a question for you, from me. Why him?”
She casually waves her hand towards Sekmethotep in the most disrespectful way she can. The Prince scowls quietly before he forces himself to stay quiet, looking away for a brief moment.
Betsy Granger: “All I’ve seen of him thus far is that he is a coward, a cheat, and not worth the time it would take to turn him into anything worth note. He’s taken your message and completely convoluted it. So what do you see that I don’t?”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “I’ve known him for a long time. Years. He was with me at the worst times. Loyalty is a rarity these days. Despite the mistakes he makes, he cares. Plus he is young. We all make mistakes when we are young. He is full of potential and I have supported him since day one. I’m not going to steer away from that.”
Snorting derisively, Betsy shrugs her shoulders carelessly.
Betsy Granger: “Loyalty is rare. So many snakes in the grass, you never know who you can trust and who is going to strike next. Perhaps that’s why I stick by Adam as closely as I do. We’ve had each other’s backs since we met… I spent years building him up, trying to help him come out of his shell. Funny how I never tried to conform him to any particular image, seeing as I accepted him for who he is…”
Her green eyes slide pointedly back towards Prince Sekmethotep.
Betsy Granger: “Despite what OTHERS might believe.”
A stern sigh comes from Wadjethotep.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Betsy, you are a good friend, but please don’t think I haven’t accepted him for who he is. Every time he has made a decision I support him, whether it’s the right or wrong decision. I know there’s just somethings we need to learn on our own. We also need people to fall back on when things don’t always go right. Regardless of what that young man does next he knows I’ll support him. Just like I support you and wish you only the best.”
Momentarily shamed into silence, Betsy clicks her pen uncontrollably, managing her temper. Finally, she smiles sweetly and nods.
Betsy Granger: “I suppose we’re just going to have to agree to disagree. I’m sorry to put you in the middle of a tight spot, but this is where the loyalty issue comes in. You are my friend, but Adam is my brother. I would defend him to the death if necessary. And if that means making an example of your protege over there, so be it. Please believe, however, that it’s not a shot at you and the respect and fondness I have for you. I just don’t take kindly to…”
Betsy stops herself and takes a deep breath.
Betsy Granger: “To…”
She bites her tongue again to stop the barrage of insults that want to escape her lips. With a frustrated sigh, she slams her pen down on her desk.
Betsy Granger: “To sneak attacking little worms coming after someone they called a friend not even a month ago. He betrayed my best friend, he’s lucky I haven’t laid him out on this very stage just for showing up here. The nerve of him for even doing so! Out of respect for our friendship, I haven’t taken his head off. I won’t show the same clemency a second time.”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Then be mad at me and not him for coming because I thought this would be a learning lesson, I also thought he would keep quiet.”
The Pharaoh turns his glare to the Prince for a short moment. Sekhmethotep keeps his head down and his voice silent.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “For now, I see no reason to get involved in this any further. If that were to change for any reason I would speak to you personally first. Yet we are not here to speak of possible future transgressions. We are here to talk about your upcoming win, my dear.”
Nodding in agreement, Betsy’s face clears and her smile becomes much more genuine.
Betsy Granger: “I must say, your words have given me a bit of a confidence boost. I was admittedly feeling a bit intimidated at the idea of facing a Hall of Famer this early in my NGW run… But if he’s as incompetent as you say, I really don’t see how this should be a challenge for me. Sounds more like a novelty piece than an actual talent.”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Listen, just aim for the liver and kidneys, they’re likely trying to work double time as it is.”
The young blonde smirks and playfully slashes her finger across her throat.
Betsy Granger: “Consider this win my amends to you for the disgusting way I’ve treated your friend today.”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “I’ll take it, what was your favorite scone flavor?”
Betsy Granger: “I have to say, this apple cinnamon one is really tickling my taste buds… But that chocolate one… But there’s also this cherry one… I can’t decide, I need to keep eating them.”
Paraoh Wadjethotep: P“Well they’re all yours. Glad you enjoyed them. I like the peach ones myself.”
Raising his left hand, the Prince quietly wipes away the remnants of his own blood from his lower lip. He turns away to look at his own blood and he sucks in a breath of air. For a moment, there’s a shimmer in his eyes and Rémiel feels his heart ache. There’s a part of him that knows that his decisions are immoral by many, but it’s the path he wants to take. He no longer wants to be in the shadow of his aunt, the LWA Hall of Famer herself, Xaria Linette. It was nothing against her. She is family; she is dear to him. But the wrestling critics, the peers he’s surrounded by, all of them only saw him as the half-nephew of the Rainbow Angel. Nothing more. He needed to emerge and be himself… That was why he’s walking the path he is now.
Not that anyone would even begin to care to understand his reasoning.
Betsy giggles as she continues to nibble on the scones the Pharaoh made for her. Even still, she can’t help but allow her gaze to slide back to the sulking Prince. She was unfamiliar with him, his motives, his lineage… None of this mattered to her. All she knew was what she had seen and she didn’t like it. Twice now, he had attacked her best friend and she wasn’t the type to sit back and take that sort of thing lightly. Ty was her friend and she wanted to respect him and his feelings towards the young man he had taken under his wing. He was a guest on her show and she couldn’t fault him for wanting to bring the Prince along for a learning experience. But just having him breathing the same air as her felt like a betrayal to Adam. He was an enigma to her, a puzzle to be solved. The Prince seemed to sense her gaze on him. He turned and their eyes locked for several long moments and Betsy could sense, just as the Prince did, that they were two sides of the same coin. Whatever their story was to be, it wasn’t ending today. The realization knocked the wind out of her momentarily and she cleared her throat loudly.
Betsy Granger: “The peach are rather magnificent…”
She looks to the camera and realizes how long the show had been going on.
Betsy Granger: “I think that’s all the time we have for today! I want to thank the viewers for joining us and boosting our ratings. I want to give a very special thanks to my guest, the Pharaoh Wadjethotep for indulging my request to join me. I want to give a special shoutout to KEG, you’re going down, buddy. Join us next time, for you never know what shenanigans will occur on ‘Who Wants to Know’ with me, Betsy Granger!”
The music starts back up as the end credits appear on the fading screen. Once the camera’s are off, Betsy rises and briskly walks towards Ty, intentionally cutting off the Prince. Giving his hand a firm shake and a few friendly words, she turns back towards Sekhmethotep and they finally have a chance to size each other up properly. Rémiel’s eyes are vulnerable for a brief moment before they darken in the turn of the Prince. His sharp glare meets Betsy for a second before the Prince shakes his head and walks away from the Princess. The Pharaoh no longer required his services for the time being, softly chanting in Egyptian to himself as he goes. Betsy’s green eyes watch him as he makes his retreat, still puzzling over the mysterious young man. There is a mixture of disdain and intrigue that sweeps through her as she and Ty bid each other farewell and she watches the Pharaoh walk briskly to catch up with his underling Prince. With a shrug, she walk in the opposite direction, pulling out her phone to call Adam and regale him with what had just happened.
Betsy Granger: “Hello! Welcome to ‘Who Wants to Know?’ with me, your host, Betsy Granger! I just wanted to start off this second episode by thanking all of you who tuned in for our pilot! Ratings where double what we were expecting, And that’s all thanks to you! Give yourself a round of applause and a pat on the back. I always knew I had the best fans in the universe!”
Applauding vigorously for a few moments, Betsy looks around her staging area and smiles to someone off camera. When she finishes, she selects a small index card from her pile and waves it carelessly in the air.
Betsy Granger: So there’s something I’m going to address before I move on to the exciting part of this weeks show.
She holds up the index card on which there were two questions, the same one, but different ways of asking. One says “What dat mouf do?” and the second asks more clearly “What does that mouth do?”. Betsy rolls her eyes heavily and sets down the card.
Betsy Granger: Two weeks in a row, I’ve gotten this question. And I feel if I don’t put a stop to it now, it’s going to get asked every week until it becomes a fucking epidemic. So, what does this mouth do? It tells the virgins asking the question to fuck off. It doesn’t matter what this mouth does because you’ll never have the opportunity to find out. So take that and stick it up your useless urethra's.
Tossing the card over her shoulder, she watches as Barksicle comes whizzing across the stage, ears spinning and tail wagging with excitement. He disappears from view as quickly as he appears into it and seems excited by someone out of view. Betsy smiles fondly towards the robotic dog and looks back into the camera.
Betsy Granger: With that out of the way, let’s get down to business, shall we? For week two, I managed to acquire a guest of considerable fame, undeniable talent, and maybe a mild personality disorder? I’m no doctor, so I couldn’t tell you for sure, but I do know one thing; The mask is nifty and the man is pretty great and someone I’m proud to include among my friends. He’s the current Vengeance Pro Undisputed and RINGENHOSTEL champion, an NGW Hall of Famer and the first ever guest to grace the stage on “Who Wants To Know”! So will you help me welcome the Pharaoh himself, Tyberius King or, as he chooses to be called nowadays, the Pharaoh Wadjehotep!
Pushing a button on her desk causes a clap track to sound across the room. Pharaoh Wadjethotep comes into the frame wearing a Motörhead t-shirt, a pair of red and black Nike shorts, and black chuck’s. He is also carrying a small pastry box and sits down in a chair next to Betsy. The blonde sticks out her hand to him, only to have it looked at before her looks back up at her face. She turns back towards the camera, barely concealing the eye roll that followed.
Betsy Granger: My silent guest. This isn’t going to work for too much longer. Say hello to the viewers… All 20 of them so far!
Wadjethotep just nods his head back and forth.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Hello. I brought you these.
He speaks coldly and hands the box to Betsy.
She takes the box and opens it. Her green eyes warm up and she gives her friend a happy smile.
Betsy Granger: Aaawww, the scones you wanted me to try!!
Licking her lips, she carefully shuffles through the box, observing each of the flavors before picking an apple cinnamon flavored one. She takes a bite and looks over at Wadjethotep and nods, her eyes widening and shooting him a thumbs up.
Betsy Granger: What the hell, these are the bomb shit! Thank you for your offering!
She slides the box over his way and licks some of the crumbs off her fingers.
He nods in approval. His snake face stays the same however.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Thank you. I made them myself.
Betsy Granger: No kidding?! I suddenly have this vision of you, in the kitchen wearing a “Kiss the Cook” apron and your mask.
She giggles loudly for a few moments, but is sobered quickly by his silence. Clearing her throat, she plays with her already organized papers, rolling them up and tapping them on the desk.
Betsy Granger: Gee, I guess the mask took away your sense of humor. Right, then! Straight to business we go!
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: I don’t know what mask you’re talking about. This is my face.
He says bluntly and stern. Betsy answers his stern tone by raising a quizzical eyebrow, her face showing clearly her desire to argue this. It’s an internal struggle that lasts a full minute as she maintains eye contact with her friend. Finally, she grins and sweeps a hand as if to wave away the awkward moment.
Betsy Granger: As you say, then.
Taking a quick glance at her papers, she decides to plow right in to her own questions.
Betsy Granger: So I was wondering what you knew about my opponent for Dissension this week, another recent Hall of Famer in the halls of NGW by the name of KEG. Seems the powers that be want to waste no time in having me get my feet wet. I was curious as to what you knew about him as a competitor and if you had any tips that might help me in this match.
Wadjethotep turns to face Betsy more.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: He’s an idiot. An absolute idiot. His style is sloppy. I swear he’s more interested in drinking than winning anything. I’m almost confident that all of his major wins have been by accident. You want to know how to win this match? Just think. You don’t even have to think for a full second. I know that you’re smarter than most, myself included, but this man makes first graders look like Tesla.
The young blonde had chosen the wrong moment to take another bite of her scone. As the Pharaoh delivered the last line, Betsy choked on her scone as her laughter bubbled up her throat. She gasps, reaching for her water and taking a large sip. She holds up her finger and chugs for several moments. Wadjethotep faces her but his face remains unchanged.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Please don’t die. Not here. Not like this.
Betsy shakes her head and puts her cup down. Wiping her eyes with a tissue, she clears her throat several times before facing her guest once more.
Betsy Granger: What do we say to the God of Death? Not today.
Clearing her throat once more, she looks back down at her scone and decides against the next bite… At least for now.
He just shrugs.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Osiris isn’t that bad of a guy. He’s got a rough job and people just don’t understand.
This time, Betsy is unable to hide the rolling of her bright green eyes. They land directly on Wadjethotep’s and her gaze is unwavering under his coldness.
Betsy Granger: Rough job or not, I’m not walking through his gates until I’m good and damn ready. I don’t have enough riches to tip his scales yet, anyway.
His tone lightened slightly.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: I never said I wanted you to go did I? So what’s next?
Betsy Granger: Let’s see… Let’s see… Ah, here’s a decent one. This comes to us from Billy Reed and he says “Hi, Betsy! I was hoping to get to know what makes a great wrestler in your view, thanks!”
She taps the desk with her papers again as she ponders over her answer for a moment.
Betsy Granger: Good inquiry, Billy. I always enjoy a subjective question like this, because there can never be a wrong answer. So I suppose for me, a great wrestler is made when you have equal parts passion for what you do, talent in doing it, and a whole lot of luck in your bookings. Most people will tell you it’s all about who you know or who you blow, but I prefer to remain optimistic in this one. I can tell you from my own approach in the climbing of the proverbial ladder, I observe those I consider great and I take little pieces of each of them into myself. Skills in the ring and on the mic, the ability to do business as fairly as possible without being walked all over like a pushover, and the focus and drive it takes to reach every goal I set for myself. I brag about being the smartest in the business, but all these brains won’t mean shit if I don’t acquire the skills I have to defend them physically when my opponent is trying to bash my head repeatedly into a ringpost. Mental warfare is of course a major gameplayer in what makes some of these people the greatest, but if you don’t learn to balance in-ring skill and mic etiquette, what’s the point?
She turns in her chair and gestures for her distinguished guest to give his opinion on the subject. Hotep faces the camera and gives it a hard look.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Be the opposite of Keg.
He then turns to Betsy.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: Seriously, how did they let him in the hall of fame? We’re they just like “damn, we don’t really have anyone this year. Someone see if they can drag Keg out of a gutter”.
Male Voice: “It was a foolish decision, my Pharaoh.”
Unexpectedly, a young man emerges from the shadows of the set. His dark hair contrasts his bright blue eyes, his skin a natural pale complexion, and eerily he smiles. On the stage, Rémiel Fontaine quietly approaches them. He directly faces Wadjethotep and he lowers himself to a knee before him.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Forgive my intrusion. I wanted to make sure all was well…”
Slowly, he turns his attention to Betsy and grins.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Don't fret. I am not here to cause an issue. Nor am I here to trigger the Awkward One… again.”
Betsy’s face darkens almost instantaneously at the arrival of the Prince, the very same man who had attacked her best friend. Her well-manicured hands tighten over the piece of paper in her hand as she eyes Prince Sekhmethotep warily.
Betsy Granger: “Excuse me… I don’t remember inviting you anywhere near this set. All is well enough… So kindly remove yourself.”
Her hands continue to tighten and loosen over the paper as she remains as polite as she possibly can, despite her desire her to leap over the table and scratch the boy's eyes out. There is a strain in her voice as the words leave her lips that are not lost on either the Prince, or the Pharaoh. Wadjethotep looks over Sekhmethotep’s way. Politely, the young man bows his head towards his mentor in respect.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “In this vast multiverse, there are only a select few I answer to…”
He raises his head towards Betsy and a smirk crosses his face.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “And you are not one of them, mortal. In fact, you are just a speck of insignificance. The only reason why you're attempting to become relevant to me now is because Signorino Adam is your best friend and you want to fight his battles for him. You are one of the many who twists and twirls his strings, making him dance like the puppet you all want him to be… but I'm very close to setting him free from all of you heathens.”
Her green eyes absolutely blaze as her skin takes on the bright glow that happens when her emotions are particularly high. She rises from behind her desk and walks slowly towards the kneeling Prince. She bears down on him, her rage clear all over her face. When she speaks, her voice is dangerously low.
Betsy Granger: “You don’t know the first thing about me, you wannabe Prince of Egypt. You think I’m just Betsy Granger, girl of Earth, nothing but an insignificant speck in this universe? You son of a bitch… I’ll have you know this now. I was chosen by a royal family in an entirely different star system to be their protector… They put into me the power and energy of a star to protect their people and the world they created.”
She thrusts her hand directly into the Prince's face, which is now shining brighter than any of the lights in her little studio.
Betsy Granger: “I’m not just Betsy Granger. I am the chosen Princess Aurelia, deemed worthy to protect not just their world, but all the worlds beyond. I am a traveler of time and space and I have seen worlds and being you couldn’t even imagine. Do you really believe I would play my best friend like a puppet on a string when I have spent the better part of a year helping to liberate enslaved beings from other worlds and led them to their freedom?”
Betsy’s hand comes back to smack the Prince, but the Pharaoh catches it. Betsy glares daggers at them both, her anger causing her to shine uncontrollably. She backs away from the young man, turning to walk back towards her desk… Before turning back around and spitting at his feet.
Betsy Granger: “You disgust me.”
Sekhmethotep chuckles darkly, shakes his head slowly, and bears his teeth in lunacy. But before he can say a word…
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Do not speak a single word. Do not come out here and criticize the way Betsy treats him. Also, how are you going to set him free when you can’t win clean? I saw that low blow. I don’t know how you would think I wouldn’t. I never told you or taught you to do that. You have brought shame upon you which brings shame upon me. Which brings shame upon the Gods. So next time you ever decide to do anything like that again, you won’t be up here arguing with Betsy. You’ll be dealing with me.”
His Pharaoh’s words ring in his ears. For a moment, it is Rémiel who surfaces as his bright blue eyes widen in shock. There is fear in his eyes and dread on his face. Unlike Sekhmethotep, the young man clearly understands Betsy's power and he lowers his head. His vision is not deterred by the clear eye contacts he wears. He closes his eyes and presses his lips together in a thin line.
Rémiel Fontaine: “I-I'm sorry, Ty…”
There's another visible shiver that runs through his body. The Prince takes over immediately and he aggressively bites his lower lip, intentionally drawing blood. He does this to silence his vessel.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “My apologies, Pharaoh. The cheating and vile tactics will not happen again. They were the actions of a boy. Please treat them as such and forgive him. I will not allow you, Sekhmet, or Wadjet to be dishonored again.”
Betsy continues to glare, crossing her arms now, allowing her temper to die down a bit. The glowing begins to fade as she clears her throat loudly. Common sense and respect for her guest dictated that she should take up her post behind her desk again, but that stubborn streak kept her planted on the spot.
Betsy Granger: “That’s all good and well, pretty boy, but it’s still time for you to leave before I shove a scone down your throat. Not that it’s anything you aren’t used to, right Rem?”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Betsy, please, that was a little much.”
The stubborn young blonde continues to pout, but Ty’s gentle reprimand brings her back from her temper. The glow fades completely, and she nods towards him. She turns towards the Prince and stares at him stone face.
Betsy Granger: “Quite right, my friend. My apologies, Prince Imhotep. That was a bit much… Although, let’s be honest now… Some of that statement IS accurate.”
A slight scowl briefly forms across Sekhmethotep’s face before he regards Betsy. Slowly, a confident yet relaxed smile crosses his face and he chuckles softly to her comment.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “...Why yes, I do perform oral sex gracefully for my boyfriend, J.D Ryan. What of it?”
Wadjethotep grips the chair before yelling.
Prince Wadjethotep: “Enough!”
His yell shocks both Sekhmethotep and Betsy as it is unusual to hear him talk at such a volume as Hotep or Ty. The cobra head then turns to Sekhmethotep.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Listen. I brought you here to watch and learn. To see how to use forums like this to promote your voice and your vision. Yet you come on here, unannounced and uninvited, to promote those things in a way which aren’t becoming. You may not get along with Betsy, but this is her show. One she politely invited me to do with her. So for the rest of the time we are here we are going to respect her and treat her with kindness. You know the rule of the law. It is the whole of the law, Betsy has not spit venom at me so she shall not receive it. Do you understand?”
Betsy turns quick enough for the Pharaoh to miss her look of smug victory, but not the Prince. Sekhmethotep lowers his head in shame, knowing he and his vessel has displeased the Pharaoh. A drop of blood trails down from his lower lip and drips onto the stage floor.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Yes, my Pharaoh… Please excuse me.”
He rises to his feet slowly, respectfully bowing towards Wadjethotep, and he makes his way towards the side where he watches quietly yet carefully. Rémiel is still young. He will learn his place soon enough. Betsy, meanwhile, examines the exchange between the two men with avid interest. Once Rémiel has retreated to the side, Betsy turns her attention back to Wadjethotep.
Betsy Granger: “Allow me to apologize for my less than gracious behavior towards your… servant… trainee… lapdog?”
The question in Betsy’s voice is genuine, not a dig at the young man now quietly watching from his spot. The Prince hisses slightly.
Prince Sekhmethotep: “Protégé.”
Betsy rolls her eyes dramatically and turns her head back towards the masked Prince Sekhmethotep.
Betsy Granger: “Last I checked, no matter the title, inferiors are meant to be neither seen nor heard. So if you don’t mind…”
She once again turns back to Wadjethotep, who, despite his masked face, doesn’t look pleased with Betsy’s impertinence towards his underling.
Betsy Granger: “Here’s a question for you, from me. Why him?”
She casually waves her hand towards Sekmethotep in the most disrespectful way she can. The Prince scowls quietly before he forces himself to stay quiet, looking away for a brief moment.
Betsy Granger: “All I’ve seen of him thus far is that he is a coward, a cheat, and not worth the time it would take to turn him into anything worth note. He’s taken your message and completely convoluted it. So what do you see that I don’t?”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “I’ve known him for a long time. Years. He was with me at the worst times. Loyalty is a rarity these days. Despite the mistakes he makes, he cares. Plus he is young. We all make mistakes when we are young. He is full of potential and I have supported him since day one. I’m not going to steer away from that.”
Snorting derisively, Betsy shrugs her shoulders carelessly.
Betsy Granger: “Loyalty is rare. So many snakes in the grass, you never know who you can trust and who is going to strike next. Perhaps that’s why I stick by Adam as closely as I do. We’ve had each other’s backs since we met… I spent years building him up, trying to help him come out of his shell. Funny how I never tried to conform him to any particular image, seeing as I accepted him for who he is…”
Her green eyes slide pointedly back towards Prince Sekmethotep.
Betsy Granger: “Despite what OTHERS might believe.”
A stern sigh comes from Wadjethotep.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Betsy, you are a good friend, but please don’t think I haven’t accepted him for who he is. Every time he has made a decision I support him, whether it’s the right or wrong decision. I know there’s just somethings we need to learn on our own. We also need people to fall back on when things don’t always go right. Regardless of what that young man does next he knows I’ll support him. Just like I support you and wish you only the best.”
Momentarily shamed into silence, Betsy clicks her pen uncontrollably, managing her temper. Finally, she smiles sweetly and nods.
Betsy Granger: “I suppose we’re just going to have to agree to disagree. I’m sorry to put you in the middle of a tight spot, but this is where the loyalty issue comes in. You are my friend, but Adam is my brother. I would defend him to the death if necessary. And if that means making an example of your protege over there, so be it. Please believe, however, that it’s not a shot at you and the respect and fondness I have for you. I just don’t take kindly to…”
Betsy stops herself and takes a deep breath.
Betsy Granger: “To…”
She bites her tongue again to stop the barrage of insults that want to escape her lips. With a frustrated sigh, she slams her pen down on her desk.
Betsy Granger: “To sneak attacking little worms coming after someone they called a friend not even a month ago. He betrayed my best friend, he’s lucky I haven’t laid him out on this very stage just for showing up here. The nerve of him for even doing so! Out of respect for our friendship, I haven’t taken his head off. I won’t show the same clemency a second time.”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Then be mad at me and not him for coming because I thought this would be a learning lesson, I also thought he would keep quiet.”
The Pharaoh turns his glare to the Prince for a short moment. Sekhmethotep keeps his head down and his voice silent.
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “For now, I see no reason to get involved in this any further. If that were to change for any reason I would speak to you personally first. Yet we are not here to speak of possible future transgressions. We are here to talk about your upcoming win, my dear.”
Nodding in agreement, Betsy’s face clears and her smile becomes much more genuine.
Betsy Granger: “I must say, your words have given me a bit of a confidence boost. I was admittedly feeling a bit intimidated at the idea of facing a Hall of Famer this early in my NGW run… But if he’s as incompetent as you say, I really don’t see how this should be a challenge for me. Sounds more like a novelty piece than an actual talent.”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “Listen, just aim for the liver and kidneys, they’re likely trying to work double time as it is.”
The young blonde smirks and playfully slashes her finger across her throat.
Betsy Granger: “Consider this win my amends to you for the disgusting way I’ve treated your friend today.”
Pharaoh Wadjethotep: “I’ll take it, what was your favorite scone flavor?”
Betsy Granger: “I have to say, this apple cinnamon one is really tickling my taste buds… But that chocolate one… But there’s also this cherry one… I can’t decide, I need to keep eating them.”
Paraoh Wadjethotep: P“Well they’re all yours. Glad you enjoyed them. I like the peach ones myself.”
Raising his left hand, the Prince quietly wipes away the remnants of his own blood from his lower lip. He turns away to look at his own blood and he sucks in a breath of air. For a moment, there’s a shimmer in his eyes and Rémiel feels his heart ache. There’s a part of him that knows that his decisions are immoral by many, but it’s the path he wants to take. He no longer wants to be in the shadow of his aunt, the LWA Hall of Famer herself, Xaria Linette. It was nothing against her. She is family; she is dear to him. But the wrestling critics, the peers he’s surrounded by, all of them only saw him as the half-nephew of the Rainbow Angel. Nothing more. He needed to emerge and be himself… That was why he’s walking the path he is now.
Not that anyone would even begin to care to understand his reasoning.
Betsy giggles as she continues to nibble on the scones the Pharaoh made for her. Even still, she can’t help but allow her gaze to slide back to the sulking Prince. She was unfamiliar with him, his motives, his lineage… None of this mattered to her. All she knew was what she had seen and she didn’t like it. Twice now, he had attacked her best friend and she wasn’t the type to sit back and take that sort of thing lightly. Ty was her friend and she wanted to respect him and his feelings towards the young man he had taken under his wing. He was a guest on her show and she couldn’t fault him for wanting to bring the Prince along for a learning experience. But just having him breathing the same air as her felt like a betrayal to Adam. He was an enigma to her, a puzzle to be solved. The Prince seemed to sense her gaze on him. He turned and their eyes locked for several long moments and Betsy could sense, just as the Prince did, that they were two sides of the same coin. Whatever their story was to be, it wasn’t ending today. The realization knocked the wind out of her momentarily and she cleared her throat loudly.
Betsy Granger: “The peach are rather magnificent…”
She looks to the camera and realizes how long the show had been going on.
Betsy Granger: “I think that’s all the time we have for today! I want to thank the viewers for joining us and boosting our ratings. I want to give a very special thanks to my guest, the Pharaoh Wadjethotep for indulging my request to join me. I want to give a special shoutout to KEG, you’re going down, buddy. Join us next time, for you never know what shenanigans will occur on ‘Who Wants to Know’ with me, Betsy Granger!”
The music starts back up as the end credits appear on the fading screen. Once the camera’s are off, Betsy rises and briskly walks towards Ty, intentionally cutting off the Prince. Giving his hand a firm shake and a few friendly words, she turns back towards Sekhmethotep and they finally have a chance to size each other up properly. Rémiel’s eyes are vulnerable for a brief moment before they darken in the turn of the Prince. His sharp glare meets Betsy for a second before the Prince shakes his head and walks away from the Princess. The Pharaoh no longer required his services for the time being, softly chanting in Egyptian to himself as he goes. Betsy’s green eyes watch him as he makes his retreat, still puzzling over the mysterious young man. There is a mixture of disdain and intrigue that sweeps through her as she and Ty bid each other farewell and she watches the Pharaoh walk briskly to catch up with his underling Prince. With a shrug, she walk in the opposite direction, pulling out her phone to call Adam and regale him with what had just happened.