Put 'Em Up

Drunk, hurting, bleeding on the floor of a bar with a name she couldn’t remember off the top of her head, because of a fight that started because some crazy bitch had gone spouting her mouth and had to be put down.

Vanessa had never felt more at home in Japan until this very moment.

”Shit, shit, shit.” Vanessa his and rubbed the blood off her face, glad she was wearing gloves for more than the typical reasons. She wasn’t sure what was pissing her off more: the pain, or the fact that she fell for something she would’ve done her damn self if the positions had been swapped. She’d put Bacchus down with the grounding and pounding, but she wasn’t in any position to take advantage of it right away, and-

Her writhing froze when she saw the lights in the corner of her eyes, flashing red and blue. The police. Of course. Now she really felt like she was at home.

Sure enough, they came in, flipped her over like a pancake, and gave Vanessa the familiar sensation of stainless steel around her wrists. While her Japanese wasn’t good enough to understand much of what they said when it was being barked into her ear, she got the general gist of it, recognizing the Japanese equivalent of Miranda rights. While there was a slight chance of deportation, she wasn’t too worried about it. First offense, no property damage, and if worse came to worse, she’d AFW wrestlers tended to get a little leeway with this sort of thing. Probably a fine. Tops.

What she was more concerned with, though, was the Chinese woman smiling at her like a mad fool as they were hauled off. She wanted another go, and Vanessa didn’t hate the idea. A unfinished fight was like a movie you only watched halfway through, a song with the end cut out. It would gnaw at her, and there was only one way to scratch the itch.

”Yeah,” She called out as the policeman led her off for a free trip to his office. ”Sooner than you think!”