A Date With Disaster

Valerie was having a nightmare. She was having some weird dream, cobbled together by the dark demons of her soul, manufactured to prey on all her fears and insecurities. It was taking her dream date and mixing it with a cruel version of her job, torturing her through the combination.

As strange and farfetched as it sounded, it was the only thing that made sense, the only thing she could see to parse out how something like this could be happening to her in reality. But the pain she was feeling, that was real. The chill from her cold feet, that was real. Her heavy breath, her aching, all of it was real.

This was some kind of setup, had to be, and Valerie was just starting to connect the pieces when she detected movement nearby. She sat up, lifted her head enough to see Adalie climbing up a nearby chair, scaling it, pointing out, and…

Oh, God.

”Adalie, don’t-”

She did. Down she came, crashing into Valerie chest with an elbow drop from the heaven. The table was a weak thing, unaccustomed to bearing the sudden weight of two wrestlers, and it snapped under the pressure, clean down the middle. Valerie hit the floor and found herself covered up in the table clothes, as cutlery clattered all around her.

If there was such a thing as having too much fun, Zoey was probably nearing that threshold right about now. The feeling was starting to creep up on her from behind, bit by bit as she lifted herself up from the wreck into a kneeling position. She had the widest grin on her face and it only stood out more amongst the sea of perplexed faces and abject shock.

She didn’t pay them all that much mind, though. She had more than a few ideas drifting through her mind as she looked down at Val, thinking of the best way to keep the momentum going. There was a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to notice the waiter holding the platter with one hand. He kept the other one between them, trying to just get her attention and maybe tell her to cool it for two seconds before they call the police.

Zoey didn’t let him say any of that though. She was already reaching for the platter.

“Thank you, my good man!”

Now that’s what you call customer service.

With that, she turned back to her date and leaned down to straddle the Russian’s waist. She gave the platter a nifty little twirl before raising it high above her head. With a whip of air, Zoey would swing the plate right across Val’s face. Then, she’d reel it right back up and swing it again for the other side. Smacking the her this way and that. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Letting the momentum do all the work and seeing just how much color she could put on those cute little cheeks.

So. Valerie felt she could classify this as the worst date she’d ever had. That seemed like a safe bet.

She was laying her back, sandwiched in between the table, unable to move or free herself or even do much real thinking. That wasn’t to say she was unconscious or unaware of her environment, of course. She could feel, could process information, enough to experience unflinching rage at her current situation. She didn’t know why Adalie was attacking her, or where she’d learned wrestling moves from, or why no one had the courage to come over and help her, and she didn’t much care anymore. She just wanted it to stop.

But that wasn’t happening, from the looks like it. No, Adalie was not done with her, not just yet.

She started to squirm about as her waist  was straddled, trying to muster some kind of defense, maybe escape, but no, she was pinned too tight, her back ached far too much for any of it. To make matters worse, far worse, she saw the platter being held high and realized what was about to happen, her face contorting with horror.

”Stop-”

The platter smacked her hard across the face, lighting it up like fire on the skin

”Stop it-”

Another one, just a vicious, right on the other side.

”Adalie, why-”

Again, this one crashing right on her nose.

”Please-”

Once more, numbing up her face and leaving her so senseless that she couldn’t form any more words of protests. She laid there, helpless, as Adalie went to work, bashing her face back and forth with frightening glee.

She was saying something, but Zoey honest to god could not make it out over the sound of this platter. It was like a balloon was popping over and over again with each swing, making each and every onlooker jump with surprise and avert their gaze with every consecutive smack to the poor woman’s face.

They must have thought Korean-American was sick. Not quite. It was more that she just couldn’t remember the last time a match had gone this smoothly. It was seriously hard to deny how much fun this was. If she didn’t know any better, she’d guess this woman had never fought a day in her life. Sad, how some people could be that lame.

Now, as attached as she’d become to it, the platter was only getting her so far. Her arms were getting tired and Val was no doubt getting used to it. Or couldn’t feel it anymore. Whichever came first. Slowly, Zoey’s pace came to a halt as she let out a relaxed sigh. A bit too tired to go for a chokehold, she started thinking of another way to improvise and keep the pressure on. Standing up, she took a couple seconds to look around before her eyes rested on the bar directly behind her. Probably a good ten feet away, but hey, she was up for a challenge. A sly smirk worked its way onto her face.

“Hey, gramps! Might wanna watch the glass.”

Chucking the platter to the side, Zoey would place her foot on Valerie's stomach before leaning down and grabbing her arms, pulling them close to her sides and only raising herself back up slightly, adopting a crouched position. Then, in one snap movement, she’d fall back and lift the Russian beauty up from the wreckage by balancing her on her foot. At the apex of her date’s ascent, Zoey would kick Val clear across the table behind her and send her sailing towards the bar counter with a monkey flip.

The beating Valerie was taking wasn’t quite as bad as it seemed. Far from pleasant, clearly, but she was helped by the fact that the tray she was getting slapped with wasn’t exactly made with combat in mind, and that the continued abuse was helping to numb her to the pain. A small favor, but it was keeping her conscious.

Not that said consciousness was doing her much good at the moment. She was in no fit state to fight back. She was barely able to process what was going on around her, as Aladie moved in to continue her assault, pressing a boot down hard on her stomach. Valerie gasped, a wheezing noise as her wrists were seized and she was pulled upwards.

”Adalie…” She muttered, groggy and groaning as she was hauled. ”Adalie, why are you-”

That was as far as she managed to get before she lifted up and sent hurling away with the monkey flip. She hit the floor, rolled once, then wound up tumbling again, until her back hit the bar and left her upside down. She stayed that way for a moment, too, until gravity got the better of her, and she tumbled to her side.

She was reminded of one her class trips to the bowling alley as she watched Valerie take a tumble through a couple of idle chairs and tables towards the counter. The way the pieces of property fell to their sides and splintered apart as the woman tore through them drew a collective gasp from the somewhat thinned crowd of onlookers. It was a brutal fall, and Zoey couldn’t help but smile as she stood up and admired the sight.

Valerie’s prone body was a true contrast to the chipped pieces of wood and debris scattered around her. The broken glass and spilled drinks. The food splattered across the hardwood and patrons looking on just feet away from it. She was a modern Sleeping Beauty. It almost made Zoey feel bad about ruining such a pleasant view.
Almost.

The TKD chick traipsed her way over to the counter, stopping a pace beside Val before picked up her foot and giving her a good couple stomps in the head. It was just to tide the Russian over until Zoey could think of what to do next. That was until she noticed a fresh bottle left by the counter. Looked like a good brand. Cold, too. Shame to waste it.

Leaning over the blonde, she snatched the drink from the counter, tilting the bottle back and taking in a good swig. The barkeep looked back and forth between her and the woman fallen on the ground, mouth wide open and hands gesturing madly between the two. Probably thought she was underage. Nuh uh. She was over twenty. All good.

She set the bottle back on the counter before something off the side caught her attention. It was a full tray of uncorked bottles, a rainbow of varying brands that covered every inch of the silver they were set upon. The tray was clearly never meant to be moved. There were well over ten, three-liter bottles forced onto the container. Must have weighed a ton. Impossible to carry around a packed restaurant. The waiters were probably going back and forth between tables, drawing from the collection for convenience's sake.

And convenient it was. An evil smile wormed its way onto Zoey’s face as took a couple steps to the side, sucked in some air, and hoisted the tray up and off the counter. Her arms trembled at the sheer weight of it, elbows shaking back and forth as her face tightened, trying her best to move while keeping the contents level. With slow and heavy steps, she moved her way over to Valerie. Step by step. Inch by inch. She was finally back at her side before she looked down, crooked that smile a little further, and let the avalanche fall right onto her date.

Valerie was reminded of a car wreck that she passed on the way to this very date. A pileup on the highway. One car had stopped too soon or too late, and every car after that one had paid the price, going back, spilling all over the place, crashes over there and there and there. One ugly sight. Pure chaos. She wasn’t sure if everyone involved made it out in one piece, but she would’ve been surprised if that was the case.

Maybe it was an omen, come to think of it. Though that would imply that this was divine activity, and she couldn't imagine what she’d done to deserve this much wrath from the gods.

She was rutting about in the mess, dizzy from the tumble, just trying to figure out which way was the ceiling and where the floor was. In a way, Adalie was helpful in that regard, as she came over and stomped her in head, which gave her a good idea - the stomp came from above, so she had a good idea which way was up now. She didn’t have much idea on what to do with that knowledge, though, because she was having a hard time just sitting up, much less standing, far less fighting back.

Thankfully, Valerie seemed to be getting a reprieve, as it seemed that Adalie had backed off for a moment. Unthankfully, she knew better than to enjoy that. She could see the pattern, and she knew that, in all likelihood, this break meant that her date was preparing something special. And painful. And humiliating.
She was correct, much to her dismay.

She shrieked as the bottle fell down on her in a hellish, crashing ran, shattering and splattering all over her. The air filled with the foul stench of multiple beverage, mixed in a naseauting concoction with her at the center. She was soaking, her dress ruined beyond hope, bleeding, her hair a disheveled mess.

That was all she could take.

”Enough!” She screamed, her Russian filling the restaurant like a banshee’s howl. ”Enough! Stop! [I]Stop!” Valerie looked at Adalie with hatred blazing in her eyes. ”Why are you doing this?!”

Would it be cruel of her to laugh? Yeah, probably.

An evil little grin hung on Zoey’s lips as the tray tipped closer and closer to a vertical It was most funny after the first couple fell and kinda clonked against her head. That made her chuckle a bit. Then things started breaking and people started screaming and she just kinda lost the humor after that.

Seems Valerie was having enough of it, too. She was screaming and hollering like a woman possessed, throwing her hands up this way and that. Looks like the TKD chick was the one to draw first blood too. Okay, maybe she deserved a breather.

Zoey let out an awkward little smile as she looked down at Val. Didn’t have an answer to her question, though. She didn’t really think when she did things like this. Planning was a waste of time in her experience.

“Okay, yeah. I admit. Not the best use of wine, but…” She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “No big deal. This stuff comes out." Maybe? "Caught you off guard, though, righ-”

She stopped, catching the glare in the Russian’s burning blue pupils. That fierce scowl bore right into her. This wasn’t a joke. This woman was actually mad about all of this. For some reason, that got Zoey pretty heated too. This was hardcore rules. Who was she to start getting all pissy because she didn’t read the fight card? Zoey tossed the platter to the side and looked down at Val with furrowed brows and sulky little frown. Every second that passed was just one more ounce of fun being sucked out of this.

“The fuck’s your deal?”

Valerie was wet, soaked, stained, beaten, a little bloody, sore all over and possibly in need of minor medical attention. She was embarrassed, as she had to endure being helplessly beaten around by a woman who took it all as a game. She was disgusted by the myriad of clashing scents across her body. She was flabbergasted by the way things had gone so poorly in such a short amount of time.

But, more so than anything else, she was confused. Utterly, irrevocably confused.

She sat there, looking up at Adalie as she talked and prattled on, so casual about it all, until she suddenly wasn’t. Then, she was looking at Valerie with the same look that was coming her way, as if she had any righted to be insulted, as if the outrage belonged to her.

That idea alone was baffling, and when Adalie had the nerve to ask her that question, it only became doubly so.

”What...what the fuck is wrong with me?” Her mouth was agape, bobbing like a fish while she tried to make coherent sentences. ”What’s wrong with...are you...how? But…”

She shook her head and grabbed the edge of the table, trying to stand without slipping on any of the glass, careful all the way. ”We had a date, you come late, you attack me for absolutely no reason, and you have the gall to ask what’s wrong with me.” She spat to the side. ”Is this some sort of joke? Are you insane?”

“Duh? Uh? Wah? Huh? Nuh? You heard me. What’s your beef?”

Not really liking how this evening was turning out. Nothing could ever just go simply when she wanted things too.

The word "date" was what lingered in her mind the most. It was a weird way to describe this little night out they were having. She didn’t seriously mean they were supposed to sit down and have dinner or something, right? This was a match, right? She was told Val was going to be here, and here she was, so naturally...

As much as she would have liked to believe that this was all some kind of act, Valerie was putting on a bit too good of a performance for that to be the case. No, this woman was dead serious. Seriously confused. Seriously in pain. Seriously pissed off. Well, she wasn’t alone. Zoey was here to have fun. Not get her ass chewed out for nothing.

“No reason?” She quirked an eyebrow.

No. Zoey was not insane. At least, she didn’t think she was. It was kind of hard to make a convincing argument for that when she took a look around and saw all of the wide-eyed patrons staring right at her. Some of them crouched behind a chair or table, everyone making sure to keep a good ten feet away from the both of them. Was she missing something here?

Alright, just reel it back. Clearly, something wasn’t computing here, and it sure as hell wasn’t her.

“Fuck do you mean ‘no reason’?” She placed a firm fist against her hip. “Didn’t get the memo? We don’t have to wait to start. No ref this match.” Her eyes darted to the side for a quick second. “Or, ‘date’, I guess. Okay, I’ll give you that one. That’s a first for me.”

Still couldn’t figure that bit out. Zoey loved fighting, but wouldn’t exactly go that far.