Appearances By: None
Mentioned: Hardcore Timmay


Apathy
Questions


I sat quietly in the living room as Darkstar and Demonica beat the living fuck out of each other in the basement. I sank faintly into the leather sofa. Zane was curled on my lap, her tail flicking up and down sharply and tickling my elbow. The underside of my forearm lay across her back, my middle and index finger tenderly stroking along the top of her little skull. She purred happily against my leg, paws stretching out briefly before curling back in, nails digging into my jeans though I barely felt it.

The television was on, but I was hardly paying attention. It was one of Darkstar’s soaps. Yeah, you heard me, soaps. He never missed an episode of Days of Our Lives… he even taped it because when it aired during the day, he was still fast asleep. So was I, now that I thought of it.

My toes curled lightly around the edge of the glass coffee table which was holding my laptop, cigarettes and pretty much everything else I kept on my person most of the time. The coffee table was a replacement. Darkstar and I had a little… incident with the previous one. And no, we weren’t having sex on it.

In my previous federation, Spotlight Syndicate Wrestling, and about a month before Darkstar and I started seeing each other, I starred in a commercial with a fellow wrestler named Xavier Phibes. Phibes had his hand in promotions for the fed, namely doing commercials and pawning off merchandise. Well, he roped me into doing a commercial for, of all things, a thing called the Gwenivere Jordan Lil Domme Bondage Kit for Beginners. What a laugh. Well… our commercial wasn’t exactly pre-primetime acceptable to put it lightly. Even post-primetime would be a tad iffy. It was one of those commercials that you see at like three in the morning on the “dirty” channel when nothing else is on. Yeah… that’s right. It gets worse. Phibes and Darkstar were enemies… unbeknownst to me.

Anyway, the first time the commercial aired was a week or so after DS and I started dating. We’d got the tape of Sunday Night Violence and were watching it to see what had gone on. Well, the commercial break came on… and what happens? I see the dark, dungeon-like set in the background with Phibes walking through it. I’d shot right up and stared at the television screen. The commercial played through and all I could do was stare at my boyfriend who began to drink a bit faster and whose eyes grew a lot darker. In the end, Darkstar up-turned the table, shattering the glass into a zillion pieces and I went home for the week. (See why DS was fucking pissed here)

An email popped up in the corner through my Hotmail address that only a few people had. Mainly my brothers and my very good and very trusted friends. I reached forward to the small mouse pad beneath the keyboard and clicked the pop-up. My email box opened. It was a message from ‘a friend’. My brow rose curiously as the cat mewed in protest to my movements. I read over the words, silently noting the video file attachment.

I know you don’t watch promos… but here’s a little ditty I like to call ‘PIG’. -- T.M.


I curiously read the short, anonymous note for a few seconds before clicking the video file called ‘pig’. My laptop whirred softly before Windows Media Player popped up and began to play a sort of choppy video of Hardcore Timmay and what I figured to be some of his friends. I stroked Zane silently as I stared at the video; the smoke, the limousine, the protestors… all of it. I understood PIG suddenly. The cat pawed lightly at my belly, having found one of the four barbells through my navel.

“Easy, Zaney…” I cooed tenderly to her. She chewed at the hem of my t-shirt lightly, obviously hungry. I let the video play on loop as I picked up Zane, perched her on my shoulder and moved out into the kitchen. Unconsciously, I stepped around stains on the floor. The basement door was open, and I could hear Darkstar and Demonica down there… as I expected… beating the living, or not so living, fuck out of each other.

T.M. I thought to myself quietly, brow furrowed as I moved to the refrigerator to retrieve a can of turkey-gut pâté… yum yum. I cracked open the small can and dumped its less-than-appealing contents into a small, makeshift cat bowl. My fingers stroked down Zane’s back again as she began to eat and slurp quietly.

Heavy feet made their way up the stairs in the main hallway as Zane and I remained quiet in the kitchen. Soon enough, I felt hands slide around my waist, large paws curling together over my navel, index finger lightly toying with the right-most navel bar. The body behind me was large, muscular, and no doubt bleeding everywhere. I turned my head to the side to see piercing blue eyes, one with a nice shiner beneath it, and sharp canines digging lightly into my shoulder.

“What do you want?” I asked, though the words came out a bit harsher than I had originally intended. No, scratch that. Good. Good for me at barking at him. I knew Darkstar wasn’t the type of guy to buy flowers or say those three words that supposedly every woman wanted to hear. Hell, I was fine with the occasional piece o’ sugar, if you get my meaning, but I couldn’t help feel a tad outside of my boyfriend’s life.

“Training is done for the day. Come join us for a beer.” He said, rather monotonously in that gravely, low voice of his. I continued to calmly pet my kitten as he nibbled up the side of my neck. Whether he admitted it or not, down low, he knew he was in trouble.

“I’ll be in when Zaney’s finished eating. I don’t wanna let her crawl around too much. She’s still a little weak.” I replied quietly. His hands shifted away from my stomach, giving my hip a lingering squeeze before he left me alone in the kitchen to go drink his little heart out as I just watched with my one beer. No wonder I’d adopted a cat…


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------