Wrestling I AM MOLLY HOLLY

Author's Note: First off, Merry Christmas. Secondly, I do not own anything in this story. They belong to their respectful owners. Thirdly, don't forget to send in your reviews.  
  
I AM MOLLY HOLLY AND I AM FAT  
  
"Molly is a FATASS" are the chants that fill the arena when my music hits. The crowd doesn't erupt into cheers for me, like they do for Lita and Trish. Everybody hates me. I am nothing more than a fatso who they use to fill some empty airtime with. Sure, I have the title, but that doesn't mean anything anymore. To be a WWE diva, you don't even need talent. All you need are a pair of DD breasts and a nice ass. Or a pair of legs like Stacy Keibler. I have none of those. My breasts are of regular size, and I have a big butt. I don't have sexy legs like Stacy either. I can wrestle, but that doesn't count for anything anymore. I wish it was back in the day, where there were few women in wrestling, who could actually wrestle. For example, Chyna. She was a powerhouse. She showed that women are strong and can fight men. There was also the company's first women's champion, Fabolous Moolah. Back then, the title meant something. Now it's just a little belt compared to all the other ones around here. It's chump change compared to the World Title. The writers decide to throw in a women's match every once in a while so the majority of male fans can get their daily hard-ons or whatever. Why am I not like the others? Why can't I be like the others?  
  
Why can't I be like Trish Stratus? She's blonde, beautiful, every man's dream. I'm every man's worst nightmare. One-hundred percent of the male population would rather wake up to Trish Stratus sleeping next to them than me. I'm nothing more than a disgusting piece of fat. I'll never be more than that. Trish has nice curves, nice breasts and a nice face. I have "curves" and what I mean by "curves" is that my hips look like two hams glued to my sides. I'm so fat! My breasts are so-so, not as appealing as Trish's. And her face...everybody loves it. And everybody thinks I must've gotten hit with a trash can when I was born. Trish has guys wanting her from all corners of the world. I have guys wanting me from...well, nowhere. Trish has had Jeff Hardy go after her, and also a little thing with The Hurricane. And now her little stint with Chris Jericho. I've had Spike Dudley, but that wasn't much. He's a nice guy, but he isn't drop-dead gorgeous like Chris or Jeff. Sure, I was The Hurricane's sidekick, but Shane and I were just friends. Oh, I wish I had more!   
  
Why can't I be like Lita? She's fiery, sexy, but not blonde. She's got this flaming red hair that's exciting, unlike my boring brown mop on my head. I wish I kept my hair blonde, maybe it would've gotten me somewhere. Maybe I would be as popular as the other divas if my hair was still blonde. I wonder if it would make a difference. Would I be the champion if my hair was still blonde? Or would I still be the diva who had to job to every other person on the roster? I changed my hair color because I wanted to be seen as more than a 'dumb blonde', but it also cost me. I'm alone. I can't cry on anybody's shoulder. I can't be in anybody's arms at night when I go to sleep. I lay on my bed, alone. I'm cold because there is nobody to hold me. Lita's got it all. Sure, this whole Christian thing is a storyline, but the two are pretty tight when the cameras are off. Same with Chris and Trish. Lita's got a great body, flaunting it in those shorts and tank tops. I've got to stick to wearing pants and other shirts. Shirts that cover up my non-existent breasts and black pants. Black is supposed to be slimming, right? Then why do I feel like a pig?  
  
Why can't I have legs like Stacy Keibler? She's famous for those. Sure, Stacy sure as hell can't handle herself in the ring like I can, but that doesn't even matter anymore! All Stacy has to do is walk out there in a little jean skirt and a top that shows off her stomach, and she's got the whole male population at her feet. Speaking of stomachs, I wish I had hers. She's perfectly skinny. I'm perfectly fat. I wish I had one of those things that suck up liquids because then I could stick it inside of me and suck out all the fat. I'd be perfect then. Or would I? I mean, I will wouldn't have the breasts, or the legs. I wouldn't have the ass either. People would be amazed at all the fat I'd suck out. I'd probably fill three Olympic sized swimming pools, and that'd only be the fat out of my ass! It's not fair that these girls get to be perfect. It's not fair that they get all the time in the world, just because they've got the looks. None of them have the talent that I do, but ha...that means NOTHING!  
  
I hate my body. I hate my face. I hate myself, I'm such a disgrace. Why can't I be Stacy? Why can't I be Trish? Why can't God just grant me my wish? I want to be Lita. I don't want to be me. I'm fat and ugly, can't you just see? I have talent, but it's worth squat. I have the title, but it's not a lot. Why can't I be blonde? Why can't I be pretty? These ladies make me feel so itty bitty. At least I feel small in one way, for any other day, I can always say...  
  
I AM MOLLY HOLLY AND I AM FAT  
  
Note: This was not done out of hate for Molly, because I respect the woman with all that I have. I think she is incredible in every way. I just did this because maybe this is how she would feel, not being like the other divas. Don't think this is hate. Because it's not. Thank you. 


End file.

Wrestling, Angst