"What day is it?” Angel directs the question at me, as she sips her tea. Her sister, Demonica is busy lighting her unfiltered Black Cherry cigarette. As she begins to drag, the space between us fills with the mildly saccharine scent of artificial cherry and subtle tobacco. I inhale the smoke hanging above us deeply, trying to remember what day of the week it is. I give up remembering, concentrated on the way, like a skilled smoker, Demonica sucks on the cancer stick and lets it dangle between her pout burgundy lips while she looks out of the wide window we are seated next to. I now think of the last time I had a cigarette.
“Sunday.” Demonica answers, cigarette bobbing, exhaling clouds through her nostrils.
“It doesn’t feel like Sunday.” Angel says, squeezing lemon into her dark blue mug.
“Yeah, but yesterday was Saturday, right?”
“Yeah,” Angel says slowly, as if hesitant, ”Yeah”, she repeats with confidence,” I remember Hackers was on and I asked you if I would look nice with Angelina Jolie’s haircut and you said something like ‘only if you wanted to join a softball team’.” Angel’s smiling now.
“Oh, yeah,” Demonica smiles at this also, “that or the bowling team.”
The girls share a laugh between them. I say “girls” because even though they are mature, business-minded women, they still have these tendencies to say or do child-like things. We sit in the busy bistro of Cabot’s Café, drinking tea and shooting the bull on this apparent Sunday morning in this year of our lord, 2004. Amazing to think that just three years ago they were virtually unknown, but have now come to be known as idols for aspiring female wrestlers who dream of making waves and shattering stereotypes…in a way that doesn’t require them to shed clothing and degrade themselves in any other fashion. Their trials and tribulations, documented and unknown have been inspiration for some and merely entertainment for others. Their daredevil talents have landed them many titles and other honors, but now, a humbler pair sits before me as they prepare for another comeback. I sit across from them, my idle hand slowly rubbing circles in my nicotine patch as the bobbing cigarette taunts and teases me.
Demonica is either unaware of this torture or is as cruel and evil as her moniker suggests. Angel, blind to this as well, fingers dancing furiously on the keyboard of her notebook laptop, editing an article on the Team Scream website. A comfortable silence passes over our table, but I feel as though it must be broken: I have a deadline.
“Tell me about your career, before LIWA.” I addressed this to no one in particular. Demonica slowly turns away from the window and looked at me with lethargic eyes and drags.
“What do you want to know?” The cigarette bobs on ever syllable, hanging on every word.
“Everything.”
She looks at me, but doesn’t see me. She thinks a bit before scissoring her cigarette and poising it on the rim of the ashtray in front of her. I stare at the smoldering embers and the ribbon of smoke flowing up, suppressing the urge to grab it. I rub the patch harder.
“Well, I started out in Blood, Sweat, and Tears Wrestling Federation. I joined with Ange when it was in the beginning stages. We were the only girls there. I feuded with this guy named ‘Unknown’ and she had Skater-X, both of ‘em were nutcases. That was also the first and last time I’ve fought a man. It lasted long enough to have one show; I lost there. It crumpled up after that, so we went to the Hard Core Wrestling League. That one was a lot better: it had more wrestlers and also had at least four women on the roster. We finally had some competition, but that folded in less than three weeks. The president of HCWL started another association called Global Professional Wrestling. Ange decided to take her chances there, but I wanted to venture else where, so we separated and I went to American Badass Wrestling Association. There were a lot of women, but most of them were valets. It was my first time being a valet (for Bomber Bruce) and a heel. It was different, not really something I hated or enjoyed. By the time I broke off from him and wrestled on my own, they neglected me, so I got bored and left.”
Angel’s clacking keys have hushed, but she’s still staring something. It’s not the screen. She sighs and begins:
“That was a rough time for me. I was doing so well in my professional life, winning titles left and right (including Hardcore four times and the last person to win the GPW world title), but my personal life was a real hell at that point. Not only were we separated, but I started hanging around with a bad element at that point. I was really low, I felt really…cheap. I didn’t see the point and going on with this life, y’know? It was like, what’s it all about?” She’s looking out the window now.
Demonica reaches out and grabs a handful of grapes from the food plate on the table, eats them, few at a time, and drinks from her mug. I wait until she’s done.
“What were your initial feelings toward EFWO?”
“I noticed right off the bat, that it was more professional than any other federation I had ever been a part of. I liked the fact that the women’s division was booming. They even had their own show. My mind was blown and we were seriously interested in being a part of it. I wanted that competition, I needed it.”
She drags again and I almost forget the question. She holds it for awhile and exhales, the cherry tobacco bringing me back to my senses.
“How would you say you were perceived when you first arrived?”
“Well,” Angel begins,” it pretty much went that I was the ‘goth’ and she was the ‘slut’. People who didn’t know us that well just thought we were Goth, which was pretty weird, but expected when the word is as misconstrued as it is.”
“At the time I really wasn’t concerned about that, I was focused on doing the best job I could and have fun. Now, I look back and think, “Wow, we were pretty bold then, man”, ya know. It’s like, “Who are these tarts and who’s this ‘Damien’ guy-“
“Who was he?” I interrupt.
Demonica shakes her head and shrugs. “He was this guy I knew, we had an on and off relationship, kind of a creep. But, the point is, we come out of nowhere and played the typical ‘I’m the Diva you better not touch’ cunt role--well I did at least. The strange thing is, people liked us and then I was thinking, ‘why wouldn’t they?’, now, it’s more ‘how could they?!’. My mind recoils in horror thinking of the way we use to be.”
“How did it feel to be two-time tag-team champions?” my question brightens Demonica’s dim eyes, they seem to sparkle like emeralds and she gives a small smile.
“It felt fantastic the first and fuckin’ fantastic the second. I had never won anything in my career so I was ecstatic. The second time, I felt that they belonged to us because then there were no other great legitimate tag teams. Most of them were slopped together as a makeshift team and sure, you can put two great wrestlers together and expect great things, but if there’s no real teamwork, the whole thing will go to shit in two seconds. There’s no heart. There is an art to tag-teaming, you have to know your partner almost to the point where you can predict what they will do and trust them completely.”
Angel nods and adds on:
“Yeah, but the main problem with tag teaming is that sometimes, you’re forced to always be a tag team. Sometimes, you’re not seen as an individual. It’s like, you’re sold as a set; you gotta take one with the other. It’s rare that teams are able to break apart to pursue one-on-one matches.”
“What are, or were, your feelings on ‘The Kliq’?”
Angel answers this first: “That was an interesting angle. All I remember is that it was hard to get acceptance from some people because at that time, they were top tits to the fans. It’s hard to fight faces against faces. It gets complicated.”
Demonica takes a long drag before extinguishing the butt. I quickly drink my tea to drown the whimper building in my throat.
“I think they should have been called ‘The Clit’, but that’s my jejune thought.”
She says with a shrug and smile. I smile too, Angel rolls her eyes.
“Everything seemed to be going exceptionally well for you as a team, but just when your star was rising, Team Scream disappeared. What happened?”
Angel: “It was a bit too much too soon. Before that time, we’d never been in a serious fed. The rest of them were just slackin’ off, no one took it seriously. There, it was all organized, these people knew what they were doing and you either had to deal with it or shove off. We…shoved off.”
“You got yourselves together, and decided to come back after some months. Why did it fail?”
“The main thing was that, we just weren’t ready. We both had the itch to come back, but had no idea with how to satisfy it. We were so anxious, but we didn’t plan anything.”
“Is this time the right time?”
“This time is about setting things right. We feel that we’ve changed for the better and we’re going to step up and accept the challenge. Right now, we’re very excited about the way the women’s tag team division has evolved, but we’re kinda disappointed in the Cazzes having the belts. If they’re the same as I remember them…it’ll be a pleasure seeing them in the ring. ”
I nod as I listen to Angel and I start to thank them for giving me their time but almost shriek when I see Demonica preparing to light another Black Cherry. I also notice that “Darlin’ LiL Devil” is engraved in the metallic lighter and think about how true it is.