Lil' Naitch Tinder Date

[Kamden]

Backstage in the production area, the familiar but nowadays often absent face of Lance Storm, stoic and stern, could be seen gazing into a soft blue light. The heavenly light emitted from his enormous iPhone 6 Plus. He was tapping and swiping on the screen with an index finger, not a thumb, which was alarming. So much so it caught the attention of the BOSS, Sasha Banks, from afar. When Storm was not being hip, it was her duty to set him straight. The promise was made months ago when he traumatized her, shaking her gently and repeatedly begging to “Help him be hip”. So, Sasha approached Lance and sighed loudly.

Sasha Banks: Umm… What are you doing? It’s the thumb, not the pointer. Tuh.

Sasha held up her own gold iPhone 6 plus, complete with a glittery gold case. She swiped the screen with her thumb to unlock, and made sure Lance saw this. Lance’s face lit up.

Lance Storm: Allow me to give YOU a POINTER young Banksy - follow what the Lance man does and you too will be hip hop.

He waved a hand in the air in what was meant to be some cool gesture. Sasha cringed. At everything. The comments. The gestures. The index-swiping. Probably the hair too. Even his simple grey and neatly unwrinkled t-shirt. None of this was cute... or hip.

Sasha Banks: If you’s gonna teach me how to knit a scarf or plant a tomato, I don’t wanna know. There’s Gucci and WalMart for that.

Lance’s eyes widened.

Lance Storm: You… don’t know how to plant a tomato?

Sasha’s eyes rolled.

Sasha Banks: Please proceed.

Lance Storm: Well first, you need a fresh tomato--

Sasha Banks: HOLD!

The HBIC threw a hand up to stop him. Lance fell over, despite being upright.

Sasha Banks: Okay you aren’t that old, I know you don’t need hearing aids. I meant please show me this “pointer” you think I don’t know of.

Sasha went to help Lance to his feet, but refused to touch his collarless shirt. He ended up standing himself without any help. As any normal human being could. Even those who lacked fashionable tastes.

Lance Storm: I - the very eligible and desirable Lance Storm - have entered the world of online mating. That is why I am using my INDEX FINGER. I am using it to judge these humans that are in this strange rectangle. Who judges with their thumb?

Sasha peered at Lance’s phone and noticed he was on Tinder. She gasped, clutching a hand to her chest and quickly opened the app on her iPhone 6 plus.

Sasha Banks: OMG. Tinder! Summer and Eva made a profile for me. They want me to start dating outside of the company.

Lance Storm: Ah yes! I just saw you. I gave you an affirmative as you are a mighty fine professional wrestler.

Sasha looked a little concerned, since in the Tinder world Lance Storm was hitting on her. But in the real world, she decided to take it as a compliment.

Sasha Banks: Umm, thanks? But I already swiped left for you… Because you’re a NOT for soooo many reasons.

Lance Storm: Wow. My feelings. You don’t appreciate my wrestling skills? BEE?

Sasha Banks: WHERE?! I’M ALLERGIC!

Lance meant to say “Bae” of course. And now Sasha was beginning to get creeped out. Was Lance asking her about his wrestling skills or “wrestling” skills?! This was too much for the BOSS. When she realized no bees were around, she calmed down. Her iPhone 6 plus chimed with a notification. She received a new Tinder match. A man with dashing blonde hair, probably bleached and highlighted, appeared on her screen and she showed it to Lance.

Sasha Banks: He’s umm… Interesting looking. What do you think?

Lance quickly grabbed Sasha’s iPhone. She immediately went to protest but he halted her, leaving her looking utterly disgusted. How dare he.

Lance Storm: I know this man.

Sasha’s face turned from disgusted to mildly curious. If Lance knew him, it probably wasn’t good.

Lance Storm: This man knows wrestling.

His index finger moved towards the screen.

Sasha squealed, shaking her head vigorously, trying to block Lance’s attempt at swiping right for her. But his massive arms easily kept her frail body from intervening. The deed was done and the date was set in stone by universal online [mating] etiquette.

Lance Storm: An immediate match! See, you are a fantastic wrestler! Enjoy grappling with Lil Naitch.

He patted her on the back - she immediately cringed - and walked off with a huge grin on his face.

*****

The BOSS decided it was best to get this date over with as soon as possible, so she would have the time to cleanse her soul of any negativity gathered on a spa day with her besties. It was later that night Banks arrived at a restaurant with too many vowels in the name. The driver opened the door for her and she was greeted by the host who took her to her table. She had brought a bright yellow flower to signify her presence, and her date would hold a matching one, but his bright hair was signal enough. He pulled out her seat for her and they sat down. It was hella awkward because in person he seemed much older. Filters do justice.

Sasha Banks: Ummm, so I guess you’re “Lil Naitch”... And I guess you’re a wrestling fan too, right?

Lil Naitch: Yes I am. I’ve been in the business a long time actually.

Sasha perked up at mention of “the business”.

Sasha Banks: Forreal? Don’t play with me. YOU are in the wrestling business?

Lil Naitch nodded, looking a little bemused.

Lil Naitch: I was quite surprised when you popped up on my tinder, and even more surprised when we matched. I’m certainly punching above my weight here! And with someone I admire a lot!

Sasha Banks: Yeah sayin’ stuff like that, you definitely are… Tuh.

His face went from bright to dark in record time.

Sasha Banks: Do you dye your hair like Ric Flair? Because that’s like livin’ up to the nickname for yourself. ‘Lil Naitch’.

Lil Naitch: Well… I do have a long history with the Flairs. But I’m clearly doing it to match Charlotte, right?

This angered Sasha. She was not amused. Lil Naitch was being blatantly sarcastic, but at mention of Charlotte the BOSS lost it, but had to keep it to a minimum being in a bougie establishment. Which also added to the anger. She tilted her head slightly sideways, clutching a hand to her chest in usual fashion but not gasping. From her clutch she removed her gigantic iPhone 6 plus (which was probably the only item in there) and began to type furiously with one thumb. In the middle of typing she stopped abruptly and looked up at her “date”.

Sasha Banks: Umm, before we swerve up out of here, what’s your name.... boo boo?

Sasha had to force the “boo boo” considering everything about this date was wrong. He looked a little affronted at the question.

Lil Naitch: I’m Charles Robinson!

After finishing her block of a text message and hitting Send, the BOSS had a curious look upon her face.

Sasha Banks: Why does that sound so familiar… Are you like a cameraman or something?

Lil Naitch: I’m a ref-

If Sasha had food in her mouth, she’d have spat it out. Or not, as that would not be boss. She stood up, ready to bounce. But not literally.

Sasha Banks: I have a bad rep with ref’s anyway. My bad this didn’t work out. Byeeeee.

The waiter promptly arrived after Sasha had left to take their orders. Referee Charles Robinson simply looked at the waiter with an even more insulted look upon his face.

*****

‘Lil Naitch’ Charles Robinson was seen walking to the entrance of his home when he was snatched from behind by a rather massive figure. Muffled screams were barely audible from under the gloved hand that covered it. He was dragged to a dark-colored vehicle parked right at the edge of the home (for some reason Robinson did not see this, but maybe that isn’t too far-fetched since referees are blind to EVERYTHING) and forced in with a black bag over his head. The locks clicked as the doors were locked and the vehicle began moving to an undisclosed location.

*****

After what he guessed was a 300-second count later, the vehicle in motion hit the brakes and Lil’ Naitch flew out of his seat headfirst into the one in front of him. He was pulled out of the vehicle, still kicking and fighting back as he was again dragged somewhere else. He was forced to sit down into a chair which he assumed was metal based on the sound it made as he made contact, and the head-bag was swiftly removed. He squinted and blinked his eyes to adjust to the light. The man who held him hostage stepped in front of him, holding a blonde wig in his hands.

???: We’re gonna put this on.

Charles Robinson: Where am I?! Are you crazy! Get the hell away from me!

???: Look man, you can’t make the boss madder than she already is. That ain’t the way this game is played. So make like Shia LeBeuof and just do it! You feel me?

Bald head. Big bright orange colored glasses. An interesting beret and a black polo, black slacks and black jordans. He recognized this bulk of a man.

Charles Robinson: Oh come on, is this some vendetta against me? I don’t even think you made it to the main roster for me to screw you over in a match--

???: Man what are you TALKIN’ about?! Just sit still so I can fix this up.

The kidnapper pulled the blonde wig down over Charles’ head, and tried to adjust it by yanking on various locks of blonde hair.

Charles Robinson: ARGH! Hey, watch the hair man! Geez.

???: I can’t tell what’s yours and what’s the wig, now you best simmer before the boss gets here. We only got a couple takes for this so be ready.

Lil’ Naitch gave up and huffed, trying to shake some of the blonde extensions out of his face as the assailant set up a camera and a tripod. The camcorder clicked and beeped as recording began. A door opened, then closed somewhere behind the scene. Charles Robinson’s face went wide-eyed as he stared at someone off camera. The unmasked napper hurried into the shot and adjusted the wig, pulling any flyways out or patting them straight. He looked off camera as well, finally revealing his identity to the audience.

Angelo Dawkins: Yo boss, I got-im! HaHAAAA! This is gonna be trending on every social media there is. Ya feel me?

The BOSS Sasha Banks appeared in the frame, high-fiving Angelo before turning to Lil’ Naitch and smirking. She patted him on the head and went to stand behind the chair he was sitting on to look at the camera. Angelo walked off set, presumably behind the camera as it adjusted slightly and came into focus.

Sasha Banks: What’s good EBWF universe. As you can see, I’ve got a new friend with me here today. Isn’t she… interesting looking. Tuh. Whatever you wanna call that blonde hot mess sitting right here.

Charles Robinson: HELP ME PLEASE THESE PEOPLE ARE CRAZY!

Both Sasha and Angelo looked at each other then to Charles.

Both: “These people!?”

Sasha Banks: SWERVE. CUT.

The footage paused. We could hear Banks continue to speak.

Sasha Banks: Lookit, this needs to be perfect boo boo. Now we’ve got you on camera in drag, yelling, and us lookin’ chill. How about you make this seem like it’s an act and we will all be on our way.

Angelo went behind Charles, who clearly was still bewildered, and shook him violently to the point he fell out of the chair. Sasha sidestepped his body just in time, tilting her head to look at Angelo.

Sasha Banks: Why’d you do that, Angelo? Tuh. We can’t really hurt him.

Angelo Dawkins: Some things just need to be done. It ain’t like I like doin’ this.

Charles Robinson flopped around on the ground, trying to get belly-up. Angelo easily lifted him back into his seat and Robinson appeared defeated. He sighed and sat upon his chair, flipping the wig over his shoulder best he could while Sasha and Angelo tended to it to make it prettier.

Sasha Banks: Are we good now?

Everyone nodded and Angelo went behind the camera again. He did a countdown and they were recording again.

Sasha Banks: Like I was tryna say, I’ve got a new friend. No, Summer is the only blonde bestie I’ll ever have the pleasure of knowin’, so miss us with that break-up stuff. This is Charlotte. You know, my first win in the Queen of the Ring Tournament.

Sasha smirked and patted “Charlotte” on the head.

Sasha Banks: This is my first queen of the ring and you can BET I’m in it to win it, starting with you boo boo. Charlotte needs not worry about getting her start here in EBWF. Do yourself a favor and start in like two months, after I win this thing and after you have a chance to even stand on your own two feet. Better grab a chair ‘cuz your behind gonna stay planted in that lockerroom for a looong time. You should hide in a locker tbh, because you look like Jesus and I know for a fact you are not the second coming to this divas division. I mean, this messy mess on your head is just too much.

The BOSS purposefully scrubbed at the wig on Charles’/Charlotte’s head. He tried to butt his head at her but she shoved it away.

Sasha Banks: And then whenever you DO actually get to stand up you look like an iPhone 4. Not even a 5. And you got an otterbox on too so you look hella bulky. Those linebacker shoulders don’t do no justice either. Try and spear me and I will scalp you Hines Ward style. There is no way you get by me in this tournament, so you should make like a doormat and let me walk all over you, in and out of that ring and make it easier for you and me. I feel sorry you have to come into this place and deal with me first, because like I said.. I’m in it to win it.

Sasha started circling Charles/Charlotte for dramatic effect. All he did was look down at his feet.

Sasha Banks: I’m killin’ your career here before it even gets started. Tuh. As if you did any better before. Daddy isn’t here to help no one today and I hope he stays watchin’ because he’ll get to see how much of a flop you are, Charlotte. There ain't a place for flunkies here, not in the same place the Mean Girls are on top. How many times have you heard of a girl tryna take on Summer, Eva or myself and come out with the win? Too little to count! Do the math boo boo, the number of moles on your face is how many times you'll lose this game, not how many times you win. Try me and your nose will be smacked straight. I will snatch your eyelashes so that your eyelids go bald too, like you probably will in the future if you continue frying your hair with whatever... just terrible flat iron you use. Those split ends tell all your secrets. Tuh. And I DARE you to try and lock that figure four on me! I will go crazy eights and ain't no runnin' from that. I'll hit that moneymaker Bank Statement and you will be done. Foreclosed. Overdrawn. BROKE. One of the Mean Girls will walk out this thing with a crown and we will continue to run the world. Pawns like you just get in the way of what's gonna come... Which still ain't that much, but that's for another day. It's not like you'll be around long enough to even see another day here anyway boo boo, but you do you... I'ma do what I want, and that's snatch this victory. And you can Bank On That.

The Head BOSS in Charge looked down at Charles Robinson, whose head was hanging down.

Sasha Banks: I hope you didn't kill him.

From behind the camera, Angelo shook his head and did the universal sleeping gesture. Sasha tuh'd once more then got right beside Lil Naitch's ear.

Sasha Banks: WOOOOOOOOO!

Charles shuddered awake and let out a variety of sounds as he was scared awake. Sasha rolled her eyes and shook her head as the footage abruptly cut off.

---------------------------------------------------
OOC: Ty Jay for the Lance Storm cameo and for playing LIL NAITCH as well, I hope you all enjoyed. Good luck Ben!

[Dotty]

Haha, I loved this!!

[Ben M]

This was great! Sorry I didn't get around to writing anything with Charlotte. Rest assured, her and Sasha will meet again