04/14/2024 - Flagstaff, Arizona - Walkup Skydome
Blaze of Glory XII
One of the more unique aspects of any SuperCard event hosted by Sin City Wrestling can be summed up by a single word: unpredictability. Literally anything is a possibility which continues after twelve years keeping fans on the edge of their collective seats. But nobody - literally NOBODY - was expecting anyone to step forward and attack the reigning Bombshell Internet Champion Tempest following her harrowing defense against Crystal Zdunich only moments earlier.
Yet that was exactly what had occurred only moments ago when Tempest had stepped foot through the gorilla position curtains and received a steel chair thrown at her skull like a missile, courtesy of Mercedes Vargas. And while Tempest had been known through previous years at shrugging off such attacks, she had always been prepared for them. This attack came from out of nowhere.
Mercedes had planned well.
And now a fuming amazonian Bombshell was currently undergoing a much needed (at least in the opinions of the bosses) medical evaluation backstage. And there was one thing you might come to learn about Tempest was the fact that she was a terrible patient.
Tempest: I told you I am FINE!
Her voice could be heard from clear down the hall, and from behind closed doors, which was had prompted the boss man Christian Underwood to roll his eyes as he took the initiative to open the door himself and set foot inside to get some medical feedback from the poor man who had drawn the short straw in regards to her brief medical examination.
Christian: You’re not fine.
Tempest lowered the ice pack from her head albeit temporarily because admittedly, her bells had been rung and the chimes continued like Church services on Christmas morning. She glared at the more … saucier of the two bosses before putting the ice pack back to her scalp.
Tempest: I think after everything that I’ve been through, I’m a better judge on whether or not I’m fine.
But Christian wasn’t the easiest of officials to intimidate, just ask Michael Harris who tried a minimum of two occasions to push his authority around on Christian without much success.
Christian: Grandstanding aside from your illustrious bounty hunting career, you’re still not as fine as you think?
Tempest: Oh really? Perhaps you’d care to explain to me why?
Christian just stared at her but said nothing to answer. At least, not verbally. He just tilted his head and gave it a nod, directing her attention to the ice pack in hand.
Tempest: What, this?
She pulled it away from her head to look at it.
Tempest: What about…?
But whatever else she might have had a mind to say was lost to her temporarily as her eyes were fixated on the crimson stains on the ice pack, a testament that her scalp had been busted open from beneath the hairline. She reached up by instinct before either Christian or the paramedics could stop her, and touched her hair and thus her scalp and her fingers came back stained with her own blood. She glanced upward but was looking at nobody in particular although her words would have been directed toward Vargas herself.
Tempest: I’m going to kill that bitch….
She started to stand up but the medic placed a hand on her arm to keep her where she was, but Tempest grabbed him by the wrist and effectively removed his grip from her person.
Medic: You need to…
Tempest stood up and threw the ice pack clear across the first aid station, the wet slap of the fabric striking the wall and it fell to the tile floor with a pathetic thump.
Tempest: What I need to do is go find that bitch and twist her neck until her goddamn head pops off!
This was where Christian had to temporarily forgo the admitted unease he felt when in her presence and instead play the role of concerned boss. He stepped forward and held up a hand.
Christian: Despite your propensity for saying such glowing poetry, I’m going to have to insist on waiting until the end of your exam. You might need to go to the hospital for a more thorough…
Tempest: Hospital???
She brazenly scoffed and shook her head.
Tempest: I don’t think so!
Christian stared at her with a hand on his chest and as much sarcasm as he could muster, which for him would be an endless supply.
Christian: Ohhh, I see! You think this is a democracy? No, no. I wasn’t asking. I am telling you to wait until the nice medical examiner is finished…
Medic: Christ you make me sound like a forensic pathologist!
Christian just exchanged a glance with the man before finishing his thoughts directed at the gargantuan woman before him.
Christian: … And we are going to let him decide whether or not you’re fine enough to not make a trip to the hospital.
Tempest: Or what?
Christian: Orrr… I just suspend you right here, right now, until such time as you’re willing to make the decision like the calm, rational human being that we like to imagine you capable of being.
Tempest just stared at the boss man who tried his damndest to hide the hard swallow as they engaged in their battle of wills before slowly, reluctantly, Tempest had a seat and allowed the paramedic to continue.
“Dead. Woman. Walking.”
“Name three words best used to describe the soon to be deceased Mercedes Vargas!”
“I have been an active woman on this roster for a fair few years and during that time, one or two women have had the guts to literally get right up into my face. Bobbie Dahl and Zoey Lukas, chief amongst them. But those women had every reason and edge to try and get in my face because both were about as close to my size as anyone on the Bombshell roster was capable of being! Two bad ass chicks who had the stones to get in my face for one reason or another. For Zoey, it was just purely competitive. For Bobbie? She was looking to right a few wrongs and defend someone else. But Mercedes Vargas…the great historian of Sin City Wrestling…”
“A woman of your intellect I had expected better from, Vargas. I have to admit. I also have to admit that your great memory and intellect seems to have failed you in this case because you got so butt hurt over what I said about you - which was the stone cold truth, by the way! That you were so blinded by humiliation and denial that you thought you would rather take a cheap shot when I wasn’t looking! I expected you to fight with your words and head games rather than weapons and whatever cheap tricks you could conjure up from out of that cauldron of yours.”
“That was my mistake, I admit, and it isn’t one that I am going to allow myself to repeat. You see, this match that we’re having here tonight? You don’t have Mark Ward or Christian Underwood to thank. You have me. Just me, Mercedes. You see I didn’t go looking for you that night so I could put your head through a wall and straight into the parking garage for one reason; that I got my hands on you at the earliest possible convenience! And Normandy, France, is just that right time.”
“Sad to say though that the championship isn’t at stake because, well, to say that you don’t deserve it would be the understatement of the century! Beat me though, girlfriend, and you get a chance at the title when we hit the conclusion of this Battlegrounds tour Mark Ward has us taking part in. I mean, it won’t happen but it’s always nice to think positive, am I right?”
“So that being said, and speaking of Battlegrounds … Normandy, France. Normandy Beach. Known best for the Normandy Landings in 1944 during the Allied Invasion. And in just a matter of days, will be known for when and where we bid a sad farewell to the so-called Best of the Best. Mercedes Vargas.”
“The Argentinean Assassin is about to get assassinated!”
