Biting The Bullet (Penelope)

[Sasha Lea]

The gig was up, literally. No more smoke machines, flashing strobe lights or having to see Penelope soak up all the spotlight. It had been great while it lasted. The crowd was really into our performance and it showed in their over enthusiastic reactions at the end of our playlist. Some lucky fan out there was going home with my Zildjian Artist Series drumsticks. Drenched in sweat and dehydrated from the humidity of the cramped venue I grabbed the nearest un-opened bottle of water in the vicinity , unscrewed the small white plastic cap and chugged. In my peripheral I noticed Penelope walk through the curtains with more than a hint of annoyance painted across her face.

I lowered the bottle from my lips after a few gulps and offered whatever was left.

“Want some?”

[Penelope Lea]

Want some? Want some?! Knowing Sasha she probably sprinkled some kind protein crap into the bottle, and was just using this as a sly method to force me to build unwanted muscle. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for improving my physical appearance, but I didn't want to look like Sasha. Look at her! You can practically see the veins of her arms popping out of her shirt. I don't want that, who would? Looking down at my rather loose-fitting clothing, the sleeves of my Xombie Skull Kickers (my mega-awesome-spectacular band) showing off the proud twigs I call my arms, I flick off a small piece of confetti paper clinging onto them. That was unexpected, confetti explosions, at this dump? Eying Sasha, I scroll down than upwards, she could cosplay as She-Hulk to an absolute tee if she wanted to and that absolutely annoyed me for no apparent reason. I'm not jealous, I just ranted earlier.

"No. Why would I?"

Rolling my eyes, I noticed a unscathed bottle of water to my right, and with my magnificent microphone-welding hand, grab it. Turning to see the label, Aquafina. Pouting, of course, we scheduled a gig at a location where they support the worst flavored bottle of water in the history of our entire universe. U-ni-verse. Why couldn't it be Arrowhead? Or brand with the transparent green label? 'Pure Water, Perfect Taste,' pssh, only idiots didn't know any better. Digging my thumb between the sticker and the bottle, I rip it off with ease, the gooey-glue-stuff sticking onto my thumb.

"Do you think this is sanitary?"

I hold my thumb up to Sasha and the rest of my band as the gooey substance vibrantly shines under the florescent lighting. Without even waiting for answer (like I ever do) I shrug off the dilemma, and uncap the lid.

"It wouldn't matter anyway, we were the definition of suckitude tonight. My voice can only hold us together for so long people."

Bringing the bottle to my lips, I let the water swash in my mouth for a bit, and purse my lips before spitting it on the strawberry logo of Sookie's polka-dot t-shirt. Aquafina will never find its way down my throat.

"Sookie, learn to master your bass! You were screwing us up the ENTIRE time. You're like the label of our band, you're the foundation, the setting of our musical wonderland. If you suck, the rest of us suck...except for me. I never suck, but you knew that already. "

Sighing, I watched as Sookie began to swell up in tears. She always did this, you could give her the nicest compliment in the world and she'll still have that knack for taking it as sarcasm. Shaking my head in disappointment, I watch her scurry to the bathroom. Maybe she didn't purposely run her mascara now that I think about it...Sasha should do something about it, she's her friend, not mine. Speaking of not-friends, I dart my attention to our biggest idiot, some dude named Cod-Trav-Brad? His name isn't important.

"YOU, LEAD-GUITARIST-WE'RE-ALWAYS-REPLACING, YOU'RE OUT OF THE BAND! In the future, learn the actual songs of the band you're playing for, even Sookie didn't suck as much you did, and she WAILED in the middle of our performance!"

Impeccable timing I hear Sookie wail in the distance. Codtravbrad just stared blankly at me, as if his entire world just crumbled before his eyes. At least he didn't get violent, like the last idiot did, the best bodyguard anyone could have is your freak of an older sister. Chucking the bottled water at his face, I smirk as he simply retracted back like those pathetic plastic punching dummies. Scrunching up the sticker from earlier I toss it in Sasha's direction, watching it fall off her face as it hit her square in the forehead and landed on the ground. Pointing at it, I sit myself up on a nearby table, feet kicking below me. I'm short, it's not funny, and I'm NOT a kid. I just like doing this.

"That's you."

[Sasha Lea]

Deep down inside I knew my drumming was the awesome sauce that gave our band spice regardless of what Penelope said. Reaching down I grabbed the discarded plastic label she threw so haphazardly and placed it deftly in my back pocket. She knew I hated people who litter, she threw it just because she knew I would pick it up…some people.

The closet trash can was in the restroom where Sookie had previously barricaded herself in there. I pressed my ear to the door to eavesdrop on her current condition.

“Sookie? Is everything okay?”

She said something or another but between the sobbing and the sniffling whatever it was that she said might as well had come from an extraterrestrial. I stopped and thought about how cool that would have been, an extraterrestrial friend.

“I need to use the bathroom Sookie.”

Gently , I tapped on the door careful not to startle her.

“Look, don’t listen to Penelope, you know how she can be. She likes to over exaggerate everything! She probably thinks Aquafina taste different from any other water and that I have veins popping out or something. I think your bass playing was great!”

A few snuffles and sniffles here and there but at least the crying could stop from what I can tell. She would still need some more coaxing ...

“Between you and me, Penelope loves your playing. She told me herself.”

Of course I lied. The only thing Penelope loves is her and me(I think).

“Really?”

“Really , really.”


Alas Snookie opened the door with a wounded puppy dog look plastered all over her face. Her mascara ran down into the collar of her shirt in which she wore like onyx necklace. Behind her laid a canopy of half used wads of toilet paper that she had used to blow her nose and wipe her tears. What a waste, first the plastic from Penelope and now this. Was I the only one who took global warming seriously around here? Sure it’s an outdated concept , proven false and forgotten about like yesterday’s 4 o clock new but it was still real to me damn it!

I decided to just pretend to not see what I obviously just saw. Certainly I couldn’t be the only tree hugger left in the world. Sigh.

“I need some protein…”

Luckily I packed a secret stash for moments like these. Unfortunately I didn’t have any Reeses peanut butter puff cereal to go along with it so simple liquidy-chocolately goodness would have to do. Not that I was complaining or anything. I searched through the smaller compartment of my Bob Marley backpack where I definitely remember placing a tiny ziploc bag full just a few hours earlier. Nothing. I tried the larger compartment because sometimes it’s like things grow legs and move on their own. Nothing. Panic started settling in as I searched already searched compartments to no avail. What is going on here? I could have swore I put a stash in here. Just then the realization hit me, Penelope must have stole it.

[Penelope Lea]

Twirling a plastic baggy around my index finger, my feet were now resting criss-cross on the table, the full length of my body not even long enough to complete the width of it. Not that it was a small table or anything, medium-sized maybe...the kind at least six people can sit around, eating on, discussing the marvels of their day. See, it was all part of my masterful plan, lately Sasha had been forcing me to drink these protein shakes after our performances, claiming it would give me that well needed energy boast to not crash straight after a show. She had ulterior motives, I Googled the significance of such filthy lies and tonight, tonight I wasn't going to gargle down another shake, EVER.

"Tree-hugger."

Staring at the ceiling, I could only imagine the thoughts going through Sasha's head as I continued to twirl the baggy around my index finger, using my other arm to cushion my head from the table. Throwing the Aquafina label on the floor, knowing she would pick it up. Sending Sookie to the bathroom, knowing it had the closest garbage can within our walking distance. Sasha leaving her backpack unguarded while she consoled her dearest friend. HAH! I'm not one to boast about my own intelligence, but I'm a genius. Who do you think writes our songs?

"I almost wish you didn't carry around a Bob Marley backpack. People could have assumed something else was in this baggy, and I'm too young to tarnish my public image."

[Sasha Lea]

Throwing my bag down in frustration I pulled at my hair.

“Grrrrrr... der abschaum der menschlichen gesellschaft! Penelope has it, there is no telling what she’s going to do with it or what she’s planning . Not only that but, no one knocks The Great Bob Marley. Bob Marley was a lot cooler than her image ever was or could ever be.”

I whispered to myself.

She sat cross legged on the table dangling my baggie in her hand with that annoying look on her face. Her lips pursed together with a smirk and eyes slightly squinted as if analyzing my every move. The "I know something you don't know" look. The look of a droog who had just been sploshed at the Korova Milk Bar. What exactly was she up to I wondered.

Knowing Penelope as well as I do she is probably going to want to cut a deal. Perhaps an Arrowhead bottle of water will suffice. Dinner maybe. No big deal. Just one of mischievous plots and if there was one thing Penelope knew it was mischievous plots.

I donned the cutest face that I could possibly muster up , looking towards her with my puppy dog face and hands out. Who could possibly resist?

“Peace?”

[Penelope Lea]

Anyone who wishes for any type of "peace" is a complete, and total idiot. Do I say that too much? "Idiot?"I suppose it's in the top ten words of my vocabulary...I should open up my mental thesaurus and think of a better word that means, and holds that exact same weight. Hmm...closing my eyes, I hold a finger to my forehead as I go into deep thought, the zip-lock bag of protein powder tucked securely in the other hand. Wanting to give the notion to Sasha that I was thinking deep and hard about "peace," I hum while synonyms of such a perfect word flash into my head.

Bonehead...no, that would imply that Sasha packs a good headbutt, which she doesn't.

Nimrod...again, idiot is three syllables, while '"nimrod" is only two. It doesn't hold that same weight, and isn't as simplistic as any demeaning word should be.

Fool, fool, fool! I am not Vegata, nor can I provide a good enough impression to warrant such a usage of a phrase. I suppose if I spike my hair, get a wicked widow's peak, start wearing body armor...no, no! Then I would look like Sasha when I assume she goes to medieval conventions!

Running a hand through my hair, I flick it like a pop-star, sparkles and all, while I open my eyes and give my dearest sister my devilish little-sister smile. I knew she loved when I did this, you can just see the mental sighing going on within her head. Tossing the baggy into the air, I catch it while jumping off the table and landing squarely on my feet. If I was feeling like being awesome, I would have thrown in a couple twirls, but I just had a performance. I'm tired.

"You cannot ask for peace, you'll be like all the losers at beauty pageants, and between the both of us, only I have the body to win one. In fact I did."

In the third grade.

"My voice won the hearts of the judges and my audience, and funny how that still happens today...but "peace?" HAH! Not happening. Ever. Not as long as you have this lolly-gagging in Bob Marley's idiot mouth."

There I go, using that word again. I swear, I just ha...nevermind. Shaking the bag, I bring it within proximity of Sasha's face, but far enough so she didn't have the lightning reach to grab it. I was like dangling a carrot stick in front of a donkey in all those classic cartoons.

"But, I am willing to strike a deal, now all we need is Howie Mandel holding one of those classic microphones, complete with his Bobby's World curly mullet, asking you to choose a silver briefcase. Do you think he's in Vegas? All those one-shot celebrities go there."

And then, my plan came into fruition. Pulling out a folded origami swan from my back-pocket, I toss the folded masterpiece to Sasha.

"You know how much it pains me but unfold it and read the flyer."

Closing my eyes, so I wouldn't have to witness he destruction of my ART, I wait to hear Sasha's expression.

[Sasha Lea]

Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. Bane of my existence. These are the words that I would use to describe my dearest sister Penelope. Her appetite for self-preservation was simply insatiable, but this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me. My mom used to tell stories of when we were born.

“Sasha was my warrior princess!”

This is how she always started off the story.

“When she barged her way out into the world she arrived kicking her small legs and failing her tiny arms around so furiously. Her purple flush faced bawling out for food hungrily. The doctor said she was a picture of perfect health. Healthy as an Ox! Strong as one too! Penelope, well she was a different story, but she was sooooooooo cute with her tiny little limbs barely moving. Poor thing had the weakest of lungs. We couldn’t take her home for weeks don’t cha know?"

Penelope always hated me more when she heard mom repeat the story to whomever we were entertaining that night for dinner. It wasn’t my fault of course but tell that to someone like her.

Within my palm I held the blue and black origami swan. Origami…something we learned together in girl scouts. I remember she had the most difficult time learning how to make even folds but yet she wouldn’t let me help her. It was adorable.

Now was not the time to feel all nostalgic. Emotions is something that Penelope manipulated with the greatest of ease. Even now she made me feel like the smallest person in the world despite me being easily 4 inches taller.

Just look at her sitting there with her eyes closed, nose pointed to the ceiling and squared up shoulders as if she owned the room. Now would be the perfect time to sock her one clean in the mouth.

Immediately I balded my hand into a fist and clinched my teeth as the thought came across me. Just one punch Sasha, just one.

No, that would be exactly what she want me to do. Penelope always thought 3-4 moves ahead and if I punched her now she would make me regret it one way or another. There was really only one logical way to get my protein back. Looking down, I took apart the origami swan one fold after another until her demand came in full view.

-Sin City Wrestling-

“Gotta know when to hold em’ and when to fold em’ “

Featuring Superstars: Nikki Mauler , Sara Stone , Kenji Katana and more.

It was a flyer for a local wrestling organization in Las Vegas. Not that far from our gig in Reno.
Sigh. Last time I was in a ring she made me lay down so that she could pin me for a 3 count without us actually having a real match. The fans hated me after that. I knew I could beat her, they knew I could beat her, but what did they know. They didn’t understand, no one understood what it was like to be Penelope’s sister but me.

"Bleh"

[Penelope Lea]

"Bleh," was that really she all had to say? No, no, no, there had to be more, much more. Despite her physical appearance, Sasha had a working, functioning brain! Alas, not as good mine, but still pretty HIGH up there. Opening a single eye, I peek, being weary of the sudden death of Wonder, my previously perfectly folded origami swan. I can fold and create anything, en-nee-thang, and Wonder was the first swan I made from an under-the-wind-shield-wiper wrestling advertisement. Being the first notice it on Sasha's crappy car, I swiped it just this morning while I was outside our Motel 6 hotel room, chilling near the vending machine, and kicking it when no one was looking. Hoping for a Mountain Dew, I managed to get a nasty Gatorade, which I graciously gave to Sasha when I snuck back into our room after her shower. But seriously! This company advertised their women wrestlers, that had to mean something absolutely, positively awesome right?

"We're not contractually obligated to any wrestling organization at the moment Sasha~"

Stringing my words together like a poem, I put on my best puppy-dog eyes and quivered my lips. The expression that got me everything I wanted, such as forcing Sasha to lay down during our match that ultimately got us "future endeavored" from our last place of employment. How exactly was I to know that such actions would result in such a consequence? Yes, Sasha hated...no sisters cannot hate one another, Sasha was strongly displeased with for me for a short while, even so much as to not give me a birthday present, sleaze, but that was ages ago! AGES!

Grabbing Sasha's arm, I forcibly make her flex and take ample note of her muscle growth. Looking directly at her face, I amplify my expression, and add higher pitch to my voice.

"Wasting such pythons on drumsticks? Drumming is fun an' all, but that doesn't really satisfy that inner hunger for you to completely mutilate someone. Maybe, maybe it does. A little, tiny, incy-wincy bit, but nothing really lives up to the satisfaction of ripping someone's head off their shoulders with a swift spinning back first, right? Try as you may, but a drum lacks a head...and shoulders for that matter, you're just banging on a glorified trashcan."

Strumming on a street light. Calling me, calling me, some little voice is telling Sasha that joining Sin City Wrestling is the best idea ever. Letting go of her arm, I swipe the advertisement out of her other hand, being careful of paper-cuts, and shove it right into her face.

"SMELL IT! That's the aroma of destiny, the tiny tree air-freshener of our future, and it includes free housing. IT SAYS IT RIGHT THERE! Look, 'You will no longer have to live in Sasha Lea's car!'"

I might have penciled-in that last part.

"I don't know about you, Saush, but you look so uncomfortable sleeping in the backseat. Plus you're so big I can't even pull down the backrest in mine. I could only imagine the luxuries of a LAS VEGAS apartment. They'll put little Andes Mints on our pillows, suggest we buy a ten dollar Snickers bars, and treat us like QUEENS!"

She looks at me funny.

"...the real kind of queens!"

[Sasha Lea]

Looking down at my worn converse that harbored a barrage of dirty shoelaces and million year old bubblegum(that I had never bothered to peel off the bottom of my shoe) I didn’t want to admit that I had an itch to start wrestling again. It was nothing more than that, just an itch.

“It doesn’t smell like destiny! It smells like wet cardboard and what’s wrong with my car? I like my car! It might not be the best but it’s mine none the less. She’s always been faithful and reliable. I can’t say the same for you.”

I glinted at her with the steeliest impression that I could muster up before crinkling up the flyer and chucking it at her forehead. The wad of cardboard ricocheted off the small area between her eyes and down onto the cheaply carpeted floor.

“We’ve been down this road before. We know how this story ends so just give me back my protein.”

[Penelope Lea]

"Wonder..."

Sasha didn't have to crumple it up! The nerve she had! I thought she loved trees. Now there was absolutely no chance of reviving my origami masterpiece. I was going to re-fold it, display it proudly on Sasha's car dashboard, and pretend it's gliding across the road while she drove. You understand that feeling right? Kind of like when you're taking a bath, and you glide your Ariel doll across the water, pretending she's swimming...not that I still do that. I'm not a child. Lost amongst its new garbage friends on the dirty floorboard, I put the feelings behind me and refocus myself on the task at hand.

"No one ever said 'destiny' was going to smell like your coconut-scented shampoo, not every smell in the world has to make you smile! I wouldn't wait twenty minutes after you use the bathroom otherwise."

I pause, waiting for a blush. All I got was a continuous annoyed expression. Lame.

"We may know the cover of this story, but we have yet to reach the ending. Yes, in the past our metaphorical book series may have ended similarly, with the hero, coincidentally being me, slaying that fire-breathing, ice-gushing, claw-scratching dragon, but Sasha! We're on book seven. Despite giving our fictional readers the same ending, over, and over, we're insanely popular, why else would we be on book seven? We're like the holy grail of literary cash cows! This is our epic conclusion, this is when we wrong our rights - I mean right our wrongs, this is where we cement our legacy!"

If I had an awesome visual effects guy in my band, I would force him to shoot a bolt of lightning behind me to really sell my point. Unfortunately, we didn't.

"KA-BOOM!"

So I did it myself, complete with opening the zip-lock bag and sprinkling the protein powder in the air to sell the rain.

"Can't you feel it Sasha? Please tell me you do, we need to not only kick skulls with our music, but kick skulls with our feet as well! I know you miss it, that sound they make when you kick them, maybe a little bit too hard, but not enough to seriously injure the person. That slight little 'crack.' You can't ignore the addiction, there isn't a patch for it."

[Sasha Lea]

“Fine! I’ll do it! I'll join. Just… stop sprinkling my protein all over the floor. I don’t need dramatic KA-BOOM’s and special effects with my protein to get the point. If you say I can kick a few skull in then I’m down but if you try any funny business Penelope which I know you're good for, I won’t hold back just because you're my little sister. I promise!”

Motioning in her direction I clinched my fist to signal that I meant business. She has lured me in before and I always bit at the bait, hook, line and sinker. Never had I learned to put my childlike delusions of grandeur aside. I want to inhale excellence, practice perfection and one day, one day…….be called best in the world. Like Samuel Anders I too saw the beauty of physics and the wonders of mathematics. I wanted to be connected to that. Perfection, that's what I’m about.

Couldn’t tell you what Penelope’s agenda was. Power? Pride? The specifics hardly mattered. You think you have her pegged and she switches up the puzzles pieces. Whatever her goal was deep down I knew I was just a tool in her trade toolbox of tricks.

This will be my chance to become so much more.