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26 March 2013 Richards vs Ward and Milian vs Underwood

Page history last edited by Archer844 11 years ago

Denise Richards 07.jpg Susan Ward.jpg

DENISE RICHARDS VS SUSAN WARD

Christina Milian.jpg Carrie Underwood 02.jpg

CHRISTINA MILIAN VS CARRIE UNDERWOOD

BEACH FIGHTING

Posted by Rampant Fighting on March 26, 2013, 8:21 pm

‘Look, I don’t know who’s pushing her, or why. But the whole fight is going to be streamed live, multiple cameras. It’s good exposure, Den.’

Denise’s new agent was more brazen about staring at her tits than the last one. She crossed her arms and looked him in the eyes.

‘Say it.’

He sighed. ‘Fine, we need a half hour, okay. You look sensational in that thing; women are gonna buy it, guys are gonna buy it for their wives, but we need people to see it. So we need a half hour’

‘Don’t quit after five minutes. Got it.’

‘And remember, the main logo is on your ass, so try and keep off your back.’

‘Right.’

****

The rear seat of the car was piled up with toys that Carrie assumed belonged to Denise’s kids. Each time she turned around she thought about how incongruous it looked, given where the two of them were headed. Behind the wheel, Denise wore oversized sunglasses with thick, black frames. Her lips were pressed together, her profile sharp against the empty sky through the window.

‘I used to watch Susan on Sunset Beach. She was the sweet innocent country girl and there was this redheaded b###h who always tried to mess with her. I used to cheer on the redhead.’ Carrie was talking to fill the silence, aware that Denise had little interest in what she was saying, but she was nervous about her own fight, about the prospect of getting into it with Christina Milian on a private beach. ‘How did you choose her, anyway? Do you two have some kind of history?’

‘She was in the Wild Things sequel playing the straight to video version of me. There’s someone behind her ready to put up the money. That’s pretty much all it takes.’

Denise pressed a button on the wheel to turn on the radio and the inside of the car filled up with noise. It wasn’t a subtle gesture, and Carrie looked the opposite way as she felt her cheeks start to flush with embarrassment. Why must she sound so naïve? She hated being thought of as a dilettante because she didn’t need to fight to make money the way that some other women did. But what could she do to change people’s minds other than to win.

The car turned left off the street into a long driveway between bright green lawns. Outside the house’s entrance a uniformed valet waited in the heat, his shirt stuck to his chest, his shadow like a dark stain on the paving.

****

On the decking beside the pool Denise was displaying her ass to the crowd as she breast smothered Susan Ward. Susan’s right hand opened and closed in Denise’s hair, but slowly now; her tummy heaving, heavy legs flat to the ground. People were leaving their seats to get drinks, raising their voices in conversation. Carrie thought that it was disrespectful, somehow, and she resolved to stay to the end.

‘They look sexy together, right? Your boss lady still knows how to get it done.’ Christina Milian had watched the fight from a lounger next to the bar. She was wearing a silver one piece swimsuit, her hair in a bun, drinking from a tall glass filled up with ice, as though the day and the moment had been created only for her. If it was just a pretence of relaxation then it was a good one. ‘Our turn next. I hope she taught you some of those sweet moves.’

Denise’s hand rested on the crotch of Susan’s bottoms, like an implied threat. When Susan tapped her submission there was some brief applause before Denise rolled off to one side and the two of them lay there on their backs, bare breasts slick and alluring beneath the white sun.

‘Time to put on your fightin’ clothes, blondie. I’ll meet you by the water in ten.’

****

There was a telescope on the decking pointed at the horizon. It took a minute for Denise to figure out how to swing it down and around until it was aimed at the beach, then a little longer to find and focus on the two fighting women on the sand. There was something voyeuristic and strange about watching them this way. She wondered if it was simply the absence of sound; when Christina stepped into a right hand to the liver that left Carrie curled up and gaping in the sand, Denise knew from experience that the noise Carrie must have made would have been awful, a choking gurgle from deep in her throat, the sort that always made Denise think of water draining out of a bath. But all that she could hear from the deck was the sound of music being played in the house, and the call of the gulls that were nesting in the cliff.

Christina’s silver swimsuit flashed in the sun as though it was sending a message. She kicked Carrie in her gut, on her back, making her roll toward the water in a spray of yellow sand. It was hard to watch, and Denise stood up straight, tilting the telescope away from them so that it faced up at the sky.

‘I brought the contracts if you could sign them before I go?’ Susan's feet made no noise on the soft wood floor. She had changed into a lemon colored sleeveless dress, her damp hair making dark patches on the shoulders. She carried the papers loose in her hand, the edges curling upward in the breeze. ‘Everything’s like we agreed, venues, stipulations, money. I don’t know if maybe you still want to read it?’

She looked down over the railing at the beach as Denise put her signature on the bottom of each page. She wondered if Susan felt the same sense of melancholy at what was to come for them both. She had no animosity for Susan; their fight by the pool had been as close to a sporting contest as she had experienced, but after repeated confrontations it was almost inevitable that things would become mean-spirited and catty, as each of them invented or exaggerated slights in the hope of finding motivation. ‘Here.’ she said. ‘If there’s any problems have someone call my agent.’

‘I think maybe you should go down there. Your girl looks like she’s almost had enough. What did she do for you to book her for this, sleep with your boyfriend?’

‘Would it sound crazy if I said she’s the one I like? She asked for Milian herself, thinks it’s important to learn how to suffer.’

Susan threw her head back and laughed. ‘You can always tell the privileged ones, right?’ And she walked back to the house, the contract documents folded into a tube shape in her grip, the wind pushing at the hem of her skirt like a hesitant lover.

The steps leading to the beach had been cut out of the rock face decades ago. They were worn smooth with use, slippery beneath her feet, and Denise held onto the handrail hard. When she reached the bottom Christina had Carrie trapped between her legs, face snug against her crotch, the scissors so tight that Carrie’s head and her body seemed disconnected from each other by the thick meat of Christina’s thigh. ‘We're done here. Tell your girl she did good.’ There were bruises on Christina’s face, red and raw looking. Her voice sounded tired, empty. She pushed Carrie gently from between her legs and stood up. The waves broke against Carrie’s face like a succession of slaps.

(Susan Ward was on the fantastically bad Sunset Beach, then many years later Make It Or Break It, which made me feel old. Christina Milian is Christina Milian, you should know who she is!)