Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 29 de junio al 7 de julio de 2025

OK, let's get one thing straight from the jump: there’s a difference between being a champion and acting like one. But apparently, in Sin City Wrestling, definitions are as loose as Bella Madison’s grasp on reality—or her Twitter password.

So, I log into Twitter, minding my own business, and what do I see? Bella Madison, the perennial sidekick of her own story, chirping away about loopholes and crayons. Sweetheart, if I needed a lesson in coloring outside the lines, I’d ask a toddler, not someone who’s been coloring her career with excuses since day one.

Let’s recap for those in the cheap seats:

After Into the Void:
I had a “bad night.” Oh, the horror. Newsflash: even legends have off nights. But unlike some, I don’t need a support group and a hashtag every time I stub my toe. I move on. Winners do.

Climax Control, two weeks after that:
Suddenly, matches “don’t count.” The mental gymnastics required to keep up with Bella’s logic would put Simone Biles to shame. Apparently, if you don’t like the outcome, just say “REASONS” and hope nobody asks for specifics.

Now, Summer XXXtreme:
Bella wants another shot. Because, of course, the world revolves around her rematch clause. She’s out here acting like the only thing standing between her and greatness is a technicality. Honey, it’s called talent. Look it up.

And then, the pièce de résistance:

“IT'S CALLED A LOOPHOLE, BITCH.”

Oh, Bella. Such language. I suppose when you run out of arguments, all that’s left is to shout into the void (no pun intended) and hope someone retweets you. Maybe next time, she should try a puppet show. I hear that’s more her speed.

But let’s talk about respect. I requested Bella vs. Crystal at the go-home show. Denied. Instead, Bella has the night off, I get Kayla Richards this weekend, and then, at Summer XXXtreme, I’m defending my title in a triple threat against Bella and Lilith. Let’s pause for a moment. Triple threat. As in, I have to beat two challengers at once. Because apparently, being the best isn’t enough. Now, I have to prove it against double the competition. Outrageous doesn’t even begin to cover it. I’m the champion. I should be calling the shots. But apparently, in SCW, respect is a one-way street. Bella gets handed opportunities on a silver platter, while I have to jump through hoops just to get a fair fight. Funny how that works.

Meanwhile, Bella wonders if I thought I could “get away with making that match.” Sweetheart, I don’t “get away” with anything—I earn my opportunities. Unlike some, I don’t need to dig through the rulebook for loopholes. My legacy isn’t built on technicalities; it’s built on victories.

And just when you think the circus is over, Victoria Lyons chimes in—Bombshell Roulette Champion, self-appointed voice of reason:

“Instead of complaining, why don’t you just woman up and handle your flies?”

Victoria, darling, I’d love to, but it’s hard to swat flies when you’re constantly surrounded by gnats buzzing about rematches and loopholes. Maybe if everyone spent less time whining and more time training, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.

If Bella spent half as much time perfecting her craft as she does perfecting her victim complex, maybe she'd be champion by now. But hey, not everyone can be Mercedes Vargas. Thank God for that.

I don’t need loopholes. I don’t need hand puppets. I don’t need to shout in all caps to make my point. My resume speaks for itself. But if SCW management wants to stack the odds, I say bring it. Triple threat? Fine. I’ll beat two at once. Maybe then, Bella will finally get the hint: you can’t loophole your way to greatness.

That’s what separates me from the rest. I don’t just survive pressure—I thrive in it. I don’t just accept challenges—I demand them. I don’t need management’s approval, I don’t need the fans’ validation, and I sure as hell don’t need anyone’s permission to be great.

So, to all the would-be contenders, the loophole hunters, and the self-appointed keyboard warriors among you: Step up or step aside. Because while you’re busy arguing about crayons and clauses, I’ll be busy doing what I do best—winning.

And that, darlings, is the only lesson you’ll ever need.

So, here we are. Another weekend, another match, another opportunity for Mercedes Vargas to remind the world why this division revolves around me.

Now let's get one thing straight: I don’t overlook anyone. I don’t underestimate anyone. That’s why I’m still champion, and everyone else is fighting for scraps. But when it comes to Kayla Richards, the World Bombshell Champion herself, stepping up to face me, I can’t help but notice a familiar pattern—big talk, bigger ambitions, and when the lights are brightest? That’s when the real stars shine.

Let’s be clear: Kayla’s reign as World Bombshell Champion is impressive. No one can deny she’s earned her spot at the top of that division. She's a champion in every sense of the word. But this weekend, the spotlight isn’t just on Kayla’s belt, it’s on her heart, her grit, and her ability to handle the pressure that comes with facing me.

This isn’t just another match. This is a collision of legacies. The Bombshell Internet Champion versus the World Bombshell Champion. The woman who holds the division’s spotlight versus the woman who is the spotlight.

So, what can the SCW Universe expect this weekend? Simple: A show-stealer. A match that reminds everyone why the Bombshell division is the best in the business. Expect fireworks. Expect a battle that will have everyone on the edge of their seats. Expect two women who refuse to back down, who refuse to settle for second best.

And when the final bell rings? Expect Mercedes Vargas to still be standing—because I don’t just defend my title, I defend my legacy.

This weekend isn’t about loopholes, excuses, or Twitter drama. It’s about wrestling. It’s about legacy. It’s about proving, once again, that when you step into the ring with Mercedes Vargas, you step into greatness.

This weekend, it’s more than just pride on the line. It’s about proving who truly runs this division. Who deserves the spotlight. Who’s the real queen of SCW.

So to Kayla Richards, before our collision this weekend: Don't mistake my confidence for arrogance. Don't mistake my words for empty threats. What you're hearing is the voice of a woman who has been forged in fire, who has turned pain into power, who has transformed setbacks into comebacks.

You're good, Kayla. Maybe even great. But I'm legendary.

When we lock up, when we stand toe to toe, when we push each other to our limits, remember this moment. Remember that I warned you. Remember that I saw through your facade of confidence to the doubt that lingers beneath.

Because that's the difference between us. You hope you can win. I know I will.

So bring your title. Bring your best. Bring everything you've got. It won't be enough. It's never enough against Mercedes Vargas.

The spotlight doesn't find me—I command it. The crowd doesn't cheer for me—I demand it. Success doesn't come to me—I seize it.

That's not arrogance. That's not hype. That's the cold, hard truth that everyone in Sin City Wrestling has to face eventually: In a world of contenders, there's only one Mercedes Vargas.

Will Kayla’s World Bombshell title shine brighter, or will my Bombshell Internet championship—and my legacy—outshine her? The answer lies in the ring.

This is the moment. This is the match. This is Mercedes Vargas, reminding the world why I’m not just in the spotlight—I am the spotlight.

Kayla Richards. Mercedes Vargas. Two champions, two titles, one ring—and only one can walk out standing tall.

And after this weekend, after I've beaten Kayla Richards, after I've demolished both Bella Madison and Lilith Locke at Summer XXXtreme, maybe—just maybe—they'll finally understand what I've been saying all along:

This isn't just my time. This is my legacy. This is my dynasty.

And dynasties don't fall. They reign.

So come at me with your loopholes, your darkness, your titles, your threats. Throw everything you have at me. And when the dust settles, when the smoke clears, look for me.

I'll be the one still standing. Still champion. Still Mercedes Vargas.

I’m not out to prove if I still got it. I’m here to remind the world I never lost it.


B O U L D E R • C O L O R A D O

[The same boulder at Garden of the Gods, late afternoon. The sky is streaked with soft hues of orange and pink. Mercedes sits hunched on the boulder, elbows on her knees, her championship belt draped loosely across her lap. Her breath clouds in the cooling air. She absently rubs her thumb over the metal plate of the belt, lost in thought.]

“You ever lie awake at night, replaying every time you almost walked away? Every time you wondered if any of this was worth it—if you were worth it?”

[She pauses, her eyes fixed on the horizon, fingers tightening around the belt. A gust of wind stirs her hair. She closes her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.]

“But then I remember why I started. Every door slammed in my face, every ‘you’ll never make it.’ And the first time I held this belt—how heavy it was. How real."

[She swallows hard, voice cracking just a little. She shifts, sitting up straighter, as if bracing herself against the weight of memory.]

“I’m not just fighting Bella and Lilith soon. I’m fighting every shadow that ever tried to swallow me. And I’m still here. Still standing.”

[She exhales slowly, shoulders dropping as a quiet resolve settles over her. She runs her palm along the rough surface of the boulder, grounding herself.]

“This isn’t just about winning. It’s about proving to myself that I’m more than the doubts, more than the pain. I’m still here.”

[Suddenly, footsteps approach softly from behind. Irma appears, carrying a giant thermos and a suspiciously large sandwich.]

IRMA:
You look like you need a snack and a pep talk. Lucky for you, I brought both.

[Irma sits beside Mercedes, plopping the sandwich on the boulder and offering the thermos.]

MERCEDES:
Is that… a triple-decker? Irma, we’re supposed to be training, not eating our weight in carbs.

IRMA:
Hey, fueling up is part of the process. Besides, champions need carbs. And that belt looks better with a full stomach.

[Mercedes fiddles with the belt, pretending it’s a fashion accessory.]

MERCEDES:
I’m scared, Irma. Not just of Bella and Lilith. I’m scared of losing myself—of fighting so hard I forget who I am. What if I start talking in nothing but wrestling promos?

IRMA:
“Then you better start practicing your ‘What?’ chants. But seriously, you’re stronger than you think. You’ve faced down every doubt, every shadow, and every bad haircut. And you’re still standing."

[Mercedes shifts, tracing the edge of her championship belt with trembling fingers. She lets out a shaky breath, gaze dropping to her hands.]

MERCEDES:
Sometimes I wonder if this belt is a chain, not a crown. If it’s just another way to trap me in a fight I can’t win. What if all I am is this title? What happens when it’s gone?

[Irma leans in, voice steady and warm. She reaches over, gently turning the belt so the nameplate faces her.]

IRMA:
The belt doesn’t make you—you make the belt. It’s just proof of what you’ve survived, every scar you turned into armor. Bella and Lilith can’t take that. Even if you lost it tomorrow, you’d still be the woman who never quit.

[Mercedes breathes deeply, the tension in her shoulders easing just a moment.]

MERCEDES:
I want to believe that. I want to believe I’m more than the fear, more than the mistakes. But mostly, I want to believe this thermos has coffee in it.

IRMA:
Better. It’s hot chocolate. Because sometimes champions need a little sweetness. And you on more caffeine? No thanks.

[Mercedes laughs, then takes a big sip from the thermos.]

MERCEDES:
Okay, I take it back—hot chocolate is the real championship fuel.

IRMA:
See? I told you. Forget protein shakes. Next time, I’m bringing churros.

MERCEDES:
Churros? Now you’re talking. Think I can get a snack break written into my contract?

IRMA:
Only if you promise not to hit anyone with a baguette again.

MERCEDES:
That was one time! And technically, it was a breadstick.

[They both burst out laughing, the tension broken, as the sun dips lower behind the rocks.]

MERCEDES:
Heard The Floating Penalty Box is going all out for the Fourth of July.

IRMA:
Nothing like celebrating freedom with a side of root beer BBQ wings and a river breeze. I’m already dreaming of those bacon-wrapped poppers. Tomas keeps bragging about those sweet potato tots and his house-made fry sauce. Honestly, that sauce deserves its own trophy.

MERCEDES:
If I win Sunday, I’m claiming the biggest slice of that berry pie. No questions asked.

IRMA:
And I’ll be right there, making sure you don’t get distracted by the fireworks and forget who you’re supposed to be beating next. Kayla Richards is no joke.

MERCEDES:
Deal. But if I lose, you’re buying me a round of those “Delayed Penalty” cheeseburgers.

IRMA:
You’re on. But fair warning—those burgers are almost as dangerous as Kayla's finishing move.

MERCEDES:
Good. I like a challenge—on the plate or in the ring.

END


Present Day ♦ G R A N D J U N C T I O N • C O L O R A D O

[REC•]

[Sidewalk Café, late morning. Mercedes Vargas sits at a sun-drenched bistro table, the bustle of Grand Junction reflected in her sunglasses. She’s dressed impeccably: crisp white blouse, tailored slacks, designer heels. Her Bombshell Internet Championship belt is draped over the back of her chair, just visible to the camera. She checks her phone, then sets it aside, crossing her legs with practiced elegance.

[She lifts her coffee cup, savoring a slow sip. Her Hall of Fame rings catch the sunlight as she sets the cup down with a soft clink. She leans back, a knowing smile playing at her lips as she looks straight into the camera.]

"You know, there’s something refreshing about Grand Junction in the summer. The air is clean, the sun is bright, and the people… well, they’re not nearly as bitter as some of the company I keep in Sin City Wrestling."

[Mercedes idly drums her fingers on the table, her Hall of Fame rings glinting. She glances at her phone, scrolling briefly before locking the screen and placing it face-down. She picks up a silver spoon, stirring her coffee with a gentle swirl, unhurried and precise.]

"I always appreciate when someone takes the time to talk about me at length. Kayla certainly has a way with words—so many of them, in fact, I almost needed a second cup of coffee to get through her little TED Talk. But don’t worry, I took notes. I always do. Some of us like to be prepared for the test."

[Mercedes casually stirs her coffee, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she glances over the rim of her cup, clearly amused.]

"First, let me say how touching it is to hear you finally admit what I’ve known all along: I’m not so easy to get rid of. I mean, you’ve practically made a hobby out of telling me to quit. You begged, you pleaded, you even tried reverse psychology. I haven’t seen that much effort since the last time you tried to convince yourself you were humble. Or the last time you tried to convince the world you’re not obsessed with me."

[She pauses, letting the words hang in the air, then leans back with a playful roll of her eyes.]

"But I get it. It must be exhausting, constantly trying to keep up with someone who refuses to fade quietly into the background. While you’re busy counting titles and talking legacy, I’m busy making moves—quietly, efficiently, without the need for a spotlight every step of the way."

[Mercedes taps her rings lightly on the table.]

"The “I’m not a bitch, I just play one on TV” routine is so you, Kayla. I have to admit, you do arrogance like nobody else—except maybe me, but I do it with better shoes."

[She glances down, shifting her foot to show off her designer heels, then looks back up with a sly smirk.]

"You’ve got a lot of opinions about who’s “over the hill” and who should retire, but let’s be honest—you talk about legends like you’re not desperate to become one. You’ve set records, collected titles like Starbucks rewards points. But for someone “untouchable,” you sure spend a lot of time talking about everyone else’s legacy."

[She leans in, lowering her sunglasses just enough to reveal a glint in her eye, her voice soft and conspiratorial.]

"But here’s the thing, Kayla. You keep asking me to walk away, but you never seem to ask yourself why I’m still here. Maybe it’s because I love this business. Or maybe it’s because every time you think you’ve got me figured out, I give you something new to worry about. Like, say, this Bombshell Internet Championship. Looks good on me, doesn’t it? Almost as good as that World Bombshell Championship looks good on you—back when you still smiled in your photos."

[Mercedes takes another sip of coffee, unbothered.]

"You say you’ve never given me your best. That’s cute. It’s easier to claim you were holding back than admit you just couldn’t put me away. But hey, if you need to tell yourself bedtime stories to sleep at night, who am I to judge? Some of us count sheep, others count excuses. Guess which one sleeps better at night?"

[She scrolls idly on her phone, then sets it down, her attention returning to the camera as she leans forward, elbows on the table.]

"You want to talk about hunger, about motivation, about legacy? Sweetheart, I built mine while you were still figuring out which side of your face photographs better. And I didn’t need to tear down every woman in the locker room to do it. See, that’s the difference between us: I don’t need to be the loudest in the room, because my actions speak for themselves. Bombshell Internet Champion, and still here. Still winning. Still making history, even when people like you pray for my downfall."

[Mercedes flashes a dazzling smile, her tone light but her words sharp. She uncrosses her legs, shifting in her chair to face the camera more directly]

"And let’s be honest, Kayla, you can’t resist coming back to this well, can you? No matter how many times you try to move on, you keep finding yourself face-to-face with me. Almost poetic, really. Remember the last time you tried to write me off? You walked out thinking you’d silenced me for good. But here I am, still standing, still winning, still the name you can’t escape."

[She picks up her phone, scrolling idly as she continues.]

"It’s adorable that you’re proud of me. I’ll be sure to send you a thank-you card—maybe even a fruit basket. I hear humility pairs well with citrus. And if you’re lucky, I’ll autograph it for you. A keepsake for when you’re feeling nostalgic. But let’s not pretend this is charity, Kayla. You know as well as I do that every time I step up, I force you to step up, too. That’s why you’re finally giving me your best, right? Because you know anything less just isn’t enough anymore."

[She leans back, crossing her legs, championship gleaming.]

"So here’s what’s going to happen, Kayla. You’re going to walk into our match with all the confidence in the world, and I’m going to walk in with all the experience in it. You’ll try to make an example out of me, and I’ll remind you—gently, of course—that you can’t kill a legend. You can only hope to keep up."

[Mercedes winks at the camera, then stands, gathering her purse and slinging it over her shoulder with effortless grace. She picks up her championship belt, draping it over her arm, and saunters down Main Street. The camera follows, heels clicking confidently on the pavement]

[She passes a mural of the Colorado River, pausing to let the sun catch her hair. She gestures to the mural, voice soft but pointed.]

"There's something poetic about this town. A place where the river carves its own path through stubborn rock, where the landscape refuses to be tamed. It reminds me a lot of this business we’re in—the wrestling world. You can try to shape it, control it, dominate it, but there’s always going to be someone ready to push back, to carve out their own legacy."

[She brushes her fingers along the painted river, then turns back to the camera.]

"That river? That’s me. Flowing, relentless, and always finding a way forward, no matter the obstacles. You? You’re the rock. Solid, sure, but worn down by time and pressure. And no matter how hard you try to hold your ground, eventually, you erode."

[Mercedes smiles, a mix of kindness and challenge. She resumes her walk, passing local shops and art galleries, occasionally glancing in windows, her stride never faltering.]

"I’ve been watching you the last three  years, Kayla. Watching you build your empire, stacking those titles like trophies on a shelf. But here’s the thing about empires—they’re fragile. Built on fear, on intimidation, on the illusion of perfection. And when the foundation cracks, the whole thing comes tumbling down."

[She starts walking again, passing local shops and art galleries, occasionally glancing in windows, her stride never faltering.]

"You say you’re “built different.” That you’re better than anyone who’s come before or after you. That you’re the standard by which all others are measured. That’s a bold claim. And I respect confidence—I really do. But confidence without humility is just arrogance. And arrogance? Well, that’s a dangerous game."

[Mercedes passes a jewelry store, her gaze lingering on the sparkling display before she pivots gracefully, meeting the camera’s eye.]

"You talk about me like I’m some relic, some fading star clinging to the past. But I’m not here to relive the past. I’m here to make new history. To redefine what it means to be a champion in this division. To show that experience and heart can still outshine youth and flash."

[She laughs softly, shaking her head, then adjusts her sunglasses, pushing them higher up her nose.]

"You think this is about age? About who’s “over the hill” and who’s “past their prime”? That’s a tired narrative. Wrestling isn’t a young person’s game—it’s a fighter’s game. And I’m still fighting. Still hungry. Still hungry enough to stare down someone like you and say, “Bring it.”"

[Mercedes’s expression hardens, eyes narrowing with intensity as she stops at the curb, waiting for the crosswalk signal.]

"You say you’re afraid of what would happen if I beat you. That it would be the “death of your legacy.” That’s adorable. But here’s a little secret: legacies aren’t built on avoiding defeat. They’re built on how you respond to it. On how you rise after you fall. On how you keep going when everyone else expects you to quit."

[She steps closer to the camera, voice dropping to a confident whisper.]

"And if I beat you? That won’t be the end of your legacy, Kayla. It’ll be the start of a new chapter. One where you finally learn humility. One where you finally learn what it really means to be challenged. To be pushed. To be humbled. Because that’s how champions grow. Not by talking themselves up, but by proving themselves in the ring."

[Mercedes straightens, smoothing her dress and sliding her sunglasses back up. She glances at the mountains in the distance, gesturing with her free hand.]

"I’m not here to break you. I’m here to elevate this division. To raise the bar. To inspire every woman who’s been told she’s too old, too small, too “not enough” to chase her dreams. Because I’m living proof that it’s never too late to rewrite your story."

[She gestures to the mountains in the distance, their peaks glowing in the late morning sun.]

"Look at those peaks. Majestic, unyielding. They didn’t get that way by standing still. They got there by weathering storms, by enduring the harshest conditions, by standing tall no matter what."

[Mercedes turns back to the camera, eyes shining with conviction. She rests her hand on her championship belt, thumb tracing the gold.]

"That’s what I bring to this match. Not just skill or strength, but heart. Experience. The kind of resilience that only comes from decades in this business. And that, Kayla, is something you can’t fake. Something you can’t buy. Something you have to earn."

[She smiles slyly, stepping off the curb as the crosswalk light changes.]

"They say wisdom comes with age. Lucky for me, I'm dripping in both. So, Kayla, by all means—bring your best. Bring the fire, the bravado, the monologues. I’ll bring the experience, the resilience, and the inconvenient truth that legends don’t die just because you wish they would. They evolve. They adapt. And sometimes, they remind you why you started chasing greatness in the first place."

[Mercedes walks confidently across the street, the camera pulling back to capture the vibrant life of Grand Junction around her—families, artists, the distant hum of summer. She pauses, looking back over her shoulder with a final, confident smile.]

"When we step into that ring, Kayla, don’t expect the “crusty old bitch” you think you know. Expect the champion who refuses to be written off. The woman who’s still got plenty of fight left. The one who’s going to remind you—and everyone watching—why I’m still here.

"And to everyone out there watching—get ready. Because this isn’t just a match. It’s a battle for respect. For legacy. For the future of the Bombshells division.

[Mercedes stands at the edge of the crosswalk, glancing up at the traffic light. She tightens her grip on the championship belt, draws a steadying breath, and steps forward with purpose as the signal changes, her silhouette framed by the morning sun.]

"So here’s to Climax Control 430—champion versus champion, legacy versus legacy. May the best woman win, Kayla. And if, by some chance, you find yourself needing a little pep talk after, don’t worry. I’m always happy to lend a hand. After all, I’ve made a career out of helping women like you remember who set the standard in the first place."

[Fade out as Mercedes crosses the street, the sun casting long shadows behind her, the sounds of Grand Junction fading into the background.]

[***Fade***]

Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 1 al 8 de junio de 2025

Alright, let’s talk. Let’s really talk. Because this Sunday at Climax Control, the world’s about to see something special. Something unforgettable. And I’m not just talking about another match—I’m talking about a moment that’s gonna be written in the history books. A moment where Mercedes Vargas reminds everyone why she’s the one to beat.

But before we get to Sunday, let’s rewind a little. Two weeks ago, in Paris—the city of lights, the city of love, and, as it turns out, the city where dreams come to die for anyone who steps in the ring with me. Into the Void. That’s where it all went down. That’s where Bella Madison thought she had a shot. That’s where she realized—too late—that she was in way over her head.

Let me tell you something about Paris. It’s beautiful, but not everyone gets to leave with a souvenir. Bella tried, but the only thing she took home was another lesson—courtesy of yours truly. And honestly? She should be thanking me. Not many people get a front-row seat to greatness. Most just get a free lesson in humility. But Bella? She got both.

That night, I showed the world what I’m made of. I showed Bella what it takes to be a champion. And when the dust settled, when the crowd was on their feet, when the lights were shining down on me and that title was around my waist—that’s when she knew. That’s when everyone knew. Mercedes Vargas is the real deal. The rest? They’re just playing catch-up.

But here’s the thing about being at the top: you never get to rest. There’s always someone nipping at your heels, always someone thinking they can take what’s yours. And this time, it’s Bella again. She wants a rematch. She wants another shot at the title. And you know what? I get it. I’d want another shot too, if I were her. But wanting ain’t getting, and getting ain’t keeping. And this title? It’s not going anywhere.

Let’s talk about Bella. She’s got heart, talent, and a legion of fans behind her. She’s got the passion, the drive—and after tasting defeat in Paris, she’s hungrier than ever for redemption. That hunger makes her dangerous, but it still won’t be enough to take this title from me. Not now, not ever. Bella’s story is one of perseverance. She’s been in this business for years, grinding, fighting, always coming up just short. She’s had her share of wins, but the big one has always eluded her. That’s why she wanted this match so bad. That’s why she gave everything she had in Paris. And that’s why she’s coming back for more. But let’s be real—sometimes, being the people’s champ is just a fancy way of saying you’re still chasing the real thing. And honey, I am the real thing.

I get it, everyone wants a second chance. But sometimes, the story’s already been written. Bella’s looking for redemption, but she’s still trying to figure out the ending.

Bella’s been grinding for years, and I respect that. I really do. But respect doesn’t win matches. It just reminds you how far you still have to go. And for Bella, that journey isn’t over—it’s just getting longer. Because every time she thinks she’s close, I’m there to remind her that the top is still out of reach. I’ve seen the way she trains, the way she talks, the way she carries herself. She’s all heart, all effort, all the time. And that’s admirable. But at the end of the day, effort doesn’t put titles around your waist. Skill does. Determination does. And a little bit of that Vargas magic—that’s what gets it done.

People ask me, “Mercedes, why are you so sure? Why are you so confident?” People love to call me arrogant, but let's face it—I've earned the right to be. I’ve fought and beaten every kind of challenger, and Bella is just another name on that list. She thinks she can walk in and take what’s mine, but this Sunday, she’ll learn again: you don’t just step up to Mercedes Vargas—you have to earn it. And so far, Bella hasn’t earned a damn thing.

This title is more than a trophy—it’s a symbol of everything I’ve fought for and overcome. I’ve been counted out and underestimated before, but I always come back stronger. This Sunday, I’m not just defending my title—I’m defending my legacy. And I’m not about to let anyone, especially not Bella Madison, stand in my way.

This Sunday, I’m not just looking to win—I’m looking to dominate and prove, once and for all, that Mercedes Vargas is the best. This is about respect, legacy, and showing I belong at the top. The stakes are high. For Bella, it’s about redemption. For me, it’s about proving that I’m still the best in the world. The fans are split—some want to see Bella finally get her moment, others want to see me continue my reign. The tension is real, and you can feel it in the air. But let’s be real: this isn’t about what the fans want. It’s about what I want. And I want to remind everyone why I’m still the one to beat.

I’ve seen the social media posts, the polls, the predictions. Some people think Bella has a shot. Some think I’m unbeatable. The truth is, anything can happen in that ring. But I know one thing for sure: I’m ready.

Let’s talk about the spotlight. It’s not for everyone. Some people crumble under it, some people chase it, and some people—like me—own it. I’ve seen what happens when the lights get too bright. I’ve seen challengers who talk a big game, but when the cameras roll and the crowd roars, they shrink. Bella’s got heart, I’ll give her that. But heart doesn’t make you a star. It doesn’t make you unforgettable. And it definitely doesn’t make you a winner.

I know what it’s like to have everyone watching, waiting for you to slip up. I know what it’s like to have the pressure of an entire arena on your shoulders. But here’s the thing: pressure doesn’t break me. It fuels me. It sharpens me. It reminds me why I’m still here, why I’m still the one to beat. And it reminds everyone else, too.

Bella’s hungry, sure. She’s got the drive, the passion, the fans. But hunger isn’t enough. Not against me. Not when I’m at my best. Not when I’m the one standing between her and everything she wants. I’ve seen her hunger before. I’ve seen her determination. And I’ve seen it crumble, every single time.

So bring your best, Bella. Bring your fans. Bring your excuses. It won’t matter. Because at the end of the night, you’ll still be looking up at me, wondering what it takes to be a real champion. And I’ll be happy to show you—again.

That’s why I’m still here. That’s why I’m still the one to beat. And that’s why, no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to take this from me.

Prepare for the worst.

Hope for the best.

And may the odds be ever in your favor.


L O S A N G E L E S • C A L I F O R N I A

[Carmen and Malcolm sit together in their patrol car, engines idling as the city outside blinks awake. Neon lights fading and replaced by the pale glow of dawn. Inside the car, it feels like another round of the same old dance.

Malcolm’s voice breaks the quiet, dry as the desert heat outside.]

MALCOLM:
Another day, another dollar… and another ride with you.

[Carmen shoots him a look, half-amused, half-exhausted.]

CARMEN:
Complaining already? We haven’t even started.

[Malcolm smirks, eyes flicking to the rearview. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, nervous energy bubbling under his calm exterior.]

MALCOLM:
Just saying, last time you let your cousin tag along, we ended up chasing a stolen ice cream truck.

[Carmen shakes her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips. She remembers the absurdity of it all—the flashing lights, the wailing siren, the bewildered driver with a cone in his hand.]

CARMEN:
That was a one-time thing. And we caught the guy, didn’t we?

[Malcolm leans back, feigning dramatic regret. He clutches his chest as if wounded, eyes rolling skyward in mock despair.]

MALCOLM:
Bean's Scene closed for renovations.

CARMEN:
You’re kidding. That diner’s been our breakfast spot since the academy.

MALCOLM:
I had to drink gas station coffee. I can still taste the regret.

CARMEN:
And just for $1.49.

[Her phone buzzes—a message from the universe, or maybe just her family, ready to throw another curveball. Carmen sighs as she reads the text, already bracing for impact. The screen’s blue light flickers across her tired face, casting shadows under her eyes.]

***

HOLLENBECK DIVISION, LAPD § L O S A N G E L E S • C A L I F O R N I A

[Outside the LAPD station, Mercedes waves from her beat-up hatchback, grinning like a kid before a school trip. The car is a riot of bumper stickers and faded paint, a testament to her free spirit. Carmen and Malcolm step out of the patrol car, stretching their legs in the cool morning air. The station looms behind them, a fortress of brick and glass.]

[Mercedes calls out, voice bright and eager, cutting through the quiet of the parking lot.]

MERCEDES:
Hey, cuz! Ready for another adventure?

[Carmen arches an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. She eyes her cousin with a mix of suspicion and affection, already steeling herself for whatever chaos Mercedes might bring.]

CARMEN:
How did you even get my schedule?

[Mercedes shrugs, all innocence and mischief. She hops out of her car, her sneakers scuffing the pavement as she bounces on her toes, energy radiating from every pore.]

MERCEDES:
I have my ways. Besides, Aunt Estelle said you needed company.

[Carmen turns to Malcolm, weary but resigned. She throws her hands up in a gesture of surrender, a silent plea for backup that Malcolm only answers with a knowing smirk.]

CARMEN:
Tell me again why I can’t just arrest her for loitering?

[They pile into the car. Mercedes wedges herself between the seats, buzzing with questions. She leans forward, elbows on the center console, eyes darting between Carmen and Malcolm like a kid at a magic show.]

MERCEDES:
So, Carmen, you ever catch any real bad guys? Like, bank robbers or something?

[Carmen rolls her eyes, shifting in her seat to get comfortable. She glances at Mercedes in the rearview, her reflection a blur of excitement and mischief.]

CARMEN:
Mostly just traffic stops and noise complaints. Exciting, huh?

[Malcolm smirks, remembering wilder days. He drums his fingers on the wheel, a faraway look in his eyes as he recalls chases and close calls.]

MALCOLM:
And the occasional ice cream truck.

[The radio crackles to life—a call out to the streets: shoplifting, 4th and Main, blue hoodie. Carmen answers, voice steady. She sits up straighter, her posture shifting from relaxed to alert in an instant.]

CARMEN:
Copy that. We’re en route.

[Mercedes claps her hands, eyes shining. She bounces in her seat, unable to contain her excitement, as if she’s just won front-row tickets to her favorite show.]

MERCEDES:
Yes! This is what I’m talking about!

***

STOREFRONT, 4TH AND MAIN, LOS ANGELES • CALIFORNIA – DAWN

[At the store, Carmen and Malcolm move in, Mercedes trailing behind, trying to look official. The storefront is a patchwork of neon signs and sale banners, the glass doors reflecting the morning sun. Inside, the aisles are narrow and crowded, the scent of fresh bread and cleaning supplies thick in the air. Carmen leans close to Malcolm, voice low, her eyes scanning the room for trouble.]

CARMEN:
Keep an eye on her, will you?

[Inside, the suspect bolts—right into Mercedes’ outstretched foot. He stumbles, caught off guard, his arms flailing as he tries to keep his balance. Mercedes stands there, grinning, her arms crossed triumphantly.]

MERCEDES:
You’re welcome.

[Carmen sighs, rubbing her temples. She pinches the bridge of her nose, her patience wearing thin, but a hint of a smile tugs at her lips despite herself.]

CARMEN:
Mercedes, you can’t just trip people!

[Mercedes shrugs, unrepentant. She dusts off her hands, as if she’s just completed a difficult task, her grin never fading.]

MERCEDES:
It worked, didn't it?

[Back in the car, Mercedes brags about her “police work.” She leans forward, her voice animated, gesturing wildly as she recounts her heroic tripping of the suspect. The car is filled with her laughter and the faint hum of the engine.]

MERCEDES:
See? I’m a natural. Maybe I should join the force!

[Carmen groans, slumping in her seat. She rests her head against the window, the cool glass pressing against her temple as she tries to tune out Mercedes’ enthusiasm.]

CARMEN:
No. Just… no.

[Malcolm laughs, shaking his head. He glances at Carmen in the rearview, his eyes twinkling with amusement, then turns his attention back to the road.]

MALCOLM:
I don’t know, Carmen. She’s got potential.

[Carmen shoots him a look, her eyebrows raised in warning. She points a finger at him, her expression a mix of exasperation and affection.]

CARMEN:
Don’t encourage her.

[Mercedes' phone rings—Aunt Estelle, checking in. Mercedes answers, her voice loud and cheerful, filling the car with chatter. She nods along, her free hand gesturing as she recounts the morning’s events.]

MERCEDES:
Hey, Aunt Estelle! Yeah, we caught a bad guy. Well, I helped anyway.

[Carmen rolls her eyes. Some things never changed. She watches the city blur past the window, the familiar streets a comforting backdrop to the chaos of her life.]

[At the end of their shift, Carmen and Malcolm walk Mercedes to her car at the station. The sun is higher now, casting long shadows across the asphalt. The air is warm, the scent of gasoline and pavement mixing with the faint aroma of coffee from a nearby cart. Mercedes bounces ahead, her energy undimmed by the long morning.]

MERCEDES:
Same time next week?

[Carmen shakes her head, her expression stern but her eyes soft. She crosses her arms, her posture relaxed, the tension of the morning finally easing.]

CARMEN:
Absolutely not.

[Mercedes grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She throws her arms around Carmen in a quick hug, then hops into her car, slamming the door with a satisfying thud.]

MERCEDES:
You say that every time. See you next week!

[She drives off, honking the horn, laughter trailing behind her. The sound echoes across the parking lot, a bright note in the quiet morning.]

[Malcolm watches her go, a smile tugging at his lips.]

MALCOLM:
You know, she’s kind of growing on me.

[Carmen smiles despite herself, shaking her head. She watches the hatchback disappear around the corner, the morning sun warm on her face.]

CARMEN:
Don’t tell her that.

[Malcolm and Carmen share a look—exhausted, amused, and somehow, ready for whatever comes next. Around them, the city pulses, endless and alive, as another shift ends—another day in the life, another round with family, another story to tell.]

[END]


Present Day ♦ P R E S C O T T  V A L L E Y • A R I Z O N A

[REC•]

[Camera opens at Watson Lake Park in Prescott Valley, Arizona. Mercedes Vargas sits on a smooth granite boulder by the water’s edge, the late afternoon sun casting golden light across the rugged landscape. Her championship belt rests across her lap. She gazes out at the horizon, then turns toward the camera, her eyes sharp, her tone confident and playful.]

"Alright, let’s get into it. Two weeks ago in Paris—Into the Void—I showed the world exactly what I’m made of. I stepped into that ring against Bella Madison, and I walked out champion. Not by luck. Not by fluke. Because when the lights are brightest—that’s when I shine."

[Mercedes grips the title belt, her knuckles whitening for a moment. She exhales, shaking her head with a playful grin.]

"Now, this Sunday at Climax Control, Bella wants her rematch. She wants another shot at this title, at me. And let’s be real—who wouldn’t? But here’s the thing: beating me once was never in the cards for her, and beating me twice? That’s a fantasy.

But let’s talk about what’s really going on here. Alexandra Calaway—Queen for a Day, huh? Booking this match like you’re doing me a favor. Let’s be honest, you’re just setting Bella up for another fall. No bet, just faith? That’s not faith, it’s fear. You won’t even bet a dollar on Bella, and that says everything. You’re all hype and no guts, Alexandra. You’re not just booking a match—you’re booking a disaster. For Bella. For yourself. For anyone dumb enough to doubt me."

[Mercedes runs a hand through her hair, a confident smirk playing at her lips as she stands up, slinging the title belt over her shoulder. She steps down from the rock, the crunch of gravel under her boots echoing in the quiet park.]

"Don't worry, I’ll make Bella’s loss so legendary, you’ll be apologizing to her for ever believing she had a chance—and to me for ever wasting my time. Seriously, Alexandra, if you had a dollar for every time you made a bad call, you’d be richer than the champ. But here you are, still betting on the wrong horse."

[She chuckles, shaking her head.]

"It's easy to see why you're rooting for Bella with nothing to lose. That’s because you’ve already lost your dignity. I’ll make sure both of you regret ever stepping into my spotlight. Bella’s going to wish she never met me—and you, Alexandra, are going to wish you never opened your mouth. I’ll be sure to win so hard, you’ll wish you’d cashed in on my name. I’ll make Bella’s defeat so brutal, even your support will need a refund. Watch and learn, darling."

[She walks closer to the camera, her boots kicking up a small cloud of dust. She points at the lens, her voice dropping to a determined growl.]

"I know Bella. I know what she brings. I’ve felt her best, and it wasn’t enough. And let me tell you, Bella wanted it. She wanted it bad. She came at me with everything she had. Heart, soul, grit, you name it. She’s got heart, she’s got fans, and she’s got something to prove. But guess what? So do I. I’ve got a legacy to build, a title to defend, and a reputation to uphold. And I don’t plan on letting anybody—especially not Bella—get in my way."

[Mercedes pauses, tapping the championship belt against her thigh, her eyes narrowing as the wind picks up. She leans in, voice dripping with confidence.]

“You hear that, Bella? That’s the sound of your window slamming shut. Paris was just the beginning. At Climax Control, I’m not just closing the door—I’m locking it. And you’re on the outside looking in.”

[Mercedes tilts her head, smirking at the camera.]

"You know, Bella, I've been thinking... You say you got a family waiting for you back home. That you're living your dream, like you're some kind of superhero. And I respect that. I really do. I love how you walk around like you're the first woman to juggle a family and a career. Yes, you CAN have it all!

"But, see, Bella, I'm not threatened by your story. I'm not threatened by your little girl, your husband, or your highlight reel. I've seen it all before. I've crushed fairy tales and rewritten endings. You think motherhood makes you strong? That somehow juggling a family and a career gives you an edge? Sweetheart, I've been carrying the weight of this entire division on my back. When you were learning to walk, I was running circles around the competition. While you were dreaming, I was making dreams come true."

[Her gaze sharpens, voice dripping with venom.]

"Real talk? Here it is: You're out of your league. You're playing in the big girl's sandbox, but you don't have the claws to survive the fight. While you're busy trying to prove you belong, I'm busy trying to remind the world why I own this division. You're fighting for acceptance; I'm fighting for immortality.

"You want your rematch, Bella? You got it. But remember what happened in Paris. Remember how I broke down every ounce of confidence you had and left you begging for mercy. Remember who walked out with the gold. And get ready, because this Sunday, I’m about to do it all over again—bigger, better, and more dominant than ever before.

"And to Alexandra—keep talking. Keep doubting. Because every time you open your mouth, you just remind everyone why I’m the champion. You’re not just betting against me—you’re betting against history. And history has a way of repeating itself."

[Mercedes turns away, looking out at the lake, the wind catching her hair. She takes a deep breath, then spins back to the camera, her expression fierce.]

"Bella, you’re chasing a dream. I’m living your nightmare."

[She paces along the water’s edge, the championship belt glinting in the sunlight. She stops, turning to face the camera, her eyes locked on the lens. Mercedes locks eyes with the camera, her voice low and intense.]

"You want to know what’s coming for you, Bella? Pain. Humiliation. And another trip to the back of the line. I don’t just beat my opponents—I break them. And at Climax Control, you’re about to learn that lesson all over again. The way I see it, I'm glad this match is happening. At Into the Void, you didn't just lose your title, you lost your place in this company. This time, after I win, I'll never have to see your face again. You'll be a cautionary tale. A warning to every girl who thinks she can step up and take what belongs to me.

"Paris remembered that night, Bella. Not that you walked in as champion, but that you walked out empty-handed. Because you walked into a storm, and the storm swallowed you whole. Because you stood across from greatness and you realized you were never ready for this level."

[She slaps the championship belt against her shoulder, the sound sharp and clear. She takes a step toward the camera, her eyes locked on the viewer.]

“So when the lights go out, when the crowd falls silent and you're left staring up at the ceiling - again - remember this feeling. Remember the taste of defeat. Because it's the taste of reality. And reality is spelled M-E-R-C-E-D-E-S.

"This Sunday at Climax Control, I’m not just defending my title—I’m making it clear: this is my era. And Bella, you’re just living in it. Long before you knew. And long after you'll remember."

[Mercedes leans back, a satisfied smirk on her face. She pats her championship belt and winks at the camera. The screen fades to black, leaving only the echoes of her words and the anticipation for Sunday’s showdown.]

[***Fade***]

Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 9 al 16 de marzo de 2025

I used to think that I was a loner, that I never even had fans. As it turns out, I was very wrong. See, you learn eventually that haters are literally your biggest fans. They go out of their way. Without even following you, to see everything you do. Talk about you. Obsess over you. It’s a win either way, no?

Let’s talk about those imitators for a second. They watch my every move, study my every word, and try to replicate what I do in that ring. But here’s the thing: you can copy the moves, but you’ll never have the magic. You’ll never have the presence, the poise, or the power that comes with being me. Because what I have? It’s not something you can teach. It’s not something you can learn. It’s something you’re born with—and trust me, I was born to be great.

And don’t think I haven’t noticed all the little whispers backstage. ‘Mercedes is losing her edge.’ ‘She’s been on top for too long.’ Sweetheart, if being on top for this long bothers you, then maybe it’s time you stopped aiming so low. The truth is, I’ve been at the peak of this mountain for so long that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to look up at anyone else. And that’s not arrogance—it’s just reality.

They all want what I have—the accolades, the spotlight, the legacy. But here’s the thing: wanting it and earning it are two very different things. And while they’re busy running their mouths, I’m busy running my business.

Not many people can say they've had a legendary Hall of Fame career, won so many championships, be known as one of the most decorated wrestlers in the company, have seen people come and go, but still manage to maintain their place in the Bombshell Division. Some give excuses, others criticize the company. But those who stay and work hard definitely become legend. I'm at a place in life where I'm most happy and could not win another title and still be more relevant than I am now.

The women's division is so deep. You really have to show up now. There's no longer matches that are going to be a sure walkthrough. To be in Sin City Wrestling for well over a decade is to experience the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Sometimes, it hurts. But I take it and move forward

They said I was done. They said Mercedes Vargas had nothing left to prove. But here I am—still standing tall while others have come and gone. This isn't just about proving them wrong—it's about reminding everyone why I’m still the standard in this company.

At Climax Control 416, I silenced the doubters once again by defeating Crystal Zdunich and earning my spot in the Bombshell World Championship Elimination Chamber match. It wasn’t just a victory, it was a statement. Crystal brought her A-game—hell, her entire alphabet—but I brought something more: experience, resilience, and the will to win. This isn’t my first rodeo, and it won’t be my last.

Losses are part of this business. They’re humbling, frustrating, and sometimes infuriating—but they’re also opportunities. Climax Control 419 last weekend didn’t go as planned. Teaming with Cassie Wolfe was never going to be easy, and the tension between us showed in the ring. But let me be clear: one match doesn’t define me, nor does it define my legacy.

Cassie might think this loss proves her point—that I’m past my prime, that I don’t belong at the top anymore. But here’s the thing: setbacks don’t break legends—they build them. Every great wrestler has faced defeat, but what separates champions from pretenders is how they respond to it. And trust me, I’ve responded to worse than this.

Andrea Hernandez and Kayla Richards may have won this battle, but they haven’t won the war. Andrea’s reign as Bombshell World Champion is still on borrowed time, and Kayla’s arrogance will be her undoing sooner or later. As for Cassie? Maybe now she’ll understand that respect isn’t given—it’s earned. She has potential, but potential without discipline is just wasted talent.

Teaming with Cassie Wolfe wasn’t ideal—she’s young, brash, and clearly has a lot to learn about respect in this business. She might think she’s clever with her digs about my past reigns or calling me irrelevant, but I’ve been where she is now—and I’ve surpassed it. You don’t become a Grand Slam Hall of Famer by being carried—you do it by carrying this division on your back.

I don’t need to justify my career to Cassie or anyone else. She can talk about my past reigns, throw shade about me teaming with Goth, or bring up Harper’s win over me all she wants—it doesn’t change the fact that I’m still here, still winning, and still making history while she's busy trying to make a name for herself.

Cassie clearly has a chip on her shoulder when it comes to me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my career, it’s how to adapt. I’ve been in this business longer than Cassie’s been alive—I’ve seen it all, done it all, and faced every challenge thrown my way. So if I had to drag her kicking and screaming to victory against Andrea Hernandez and Kayla Richards, then so be it. 

You know, I was hoping Cassie finally realized that teaming with me wasn't a punishment—it’s an opportunity. An opportunity to learn from the best, to see what greatness looks like up close and to maybe—just maybe—pick up a thing or two about what it takes to be a true legend in this business. But if she's too blinded by her own ego to see that, then maybe she's not as smart as she thinks she is.

This loss isn’t the end of my story—it’s just another chapter. Blaze of Glory XIII is around the corner, and when I step into that Elimination Chamber, I’ll remind everyone why Mercedes Vargas is still the gold standard in SCW. Legends don’t stay down—they rise stronger.

Maybe I’m closer to the end of my career than the beginning—but that only makes every match mean even more. I may not be who I was at my peak—but even now, I'm still better than most of the roster, I'm still a threat and I'm still good enough and smart enough to compete at a very high level. So while Andrea and Kayla celebrate their win, I’ll be preparing for what’s next. Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s this: you can knock me down, but you’ll never keep me there.

Blaze of Glory XIII is coming—and it doesn’t matter who steps into that chamber with me. Andrea, Kayla, Cassie—they’ll all learn what I already know: Mercedes Vargas isn’t just a name; she’s the gold standard in SCW.


[The wrestling gym hums with the rhythmic sounds of effort—grunts, heavy breathing, and the occasional squeak of sneakers against the mat. The ring dominates the center of the room, an imposing square surrounded by workout equipment and scattered weights. Under the harsh glow of fluorescent lights, Mercedes Vargas moves with precision and intensity, her body a blur of controlled power.

She lunges forward, gripping an imaginary opponent. Her muscles flex as she executes a flawless grapple, her movements fluid and deliberate. It’s almost artistic, the way she transitions seamlessly into a strike. Her fists slice through the air with purpose, each motion refined by years of practice. Sweat glistens on her brow, dripping down her temple as she pushes herself harder. This isn’t just training—it’s a ritual. A fight against doubt. A fight for resilience.

Her thoughts swirl like a mantra: Resilience. Creativity. They’re not just for the ring—they’re for life. Wrestling forces her to adapt, to think on her feet when the odds seem insurmountable. It’s not about brute strength alone—it’s about strategy, finding beauty in chaos. And sometimes, life throws her into matches she didn’t expect.

Mercedes pauses, leaning against the ropes as her chest heaves with deep breaths. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand and gazes across the gym, momentarily lost in thought. The ring is her sanctuary—a place where she confronts fears and insecurities head-on.

The lights dim slightly as she steps out of the ring, ready to face whatever challenges await beyond its confines.]


[The art gallery buzzes with quiet activity. The faint hum of conversation blends with the soft shuffle of footsteps on polished floors. Paintings and sculptures are scattered throughout the space, each piece carefully arranged to draw the eye. In the center of it all, Irma adjusts a canvas perched on an easel, her brow furrowed with concentration. She steps back, tilting her head as if trying to see the painting from a new perspective.

The door swings open, and Mercedes Vargas strides in, still flushed from her workout. A towel hangs around her neck, and she uses it to dab at the sweat on her face. Her presence is electric, a stark contrast to the subdued atmosphere of the gallery.]

MERCEDES
You should’ve seen me in the ring today—I was on fire.

[Irma glances over her shoulder and offers a faint smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She sighs, turning back to the canvas.]

IRMA
I wish I felt that way about this show. I don’t even know if my work says anything anymore.

[Mercedes walks over to examine one of Irma’s paintings. The colors are bold and raw, each brushstroke heavy with emotion. She tilts her head slightly, taking it in.]

MERCEDES
It’s raw. It’s real. That’s what people connect with. Trust me—wrestling or art, it’s all about putting yourself out there.

[Irma hesitates, her fingers brushing against the edge of the easel.]

IRMA
But what if it’s not enough? What if I’m not enough?

[Mercedes steps closer and places a reassuring hand on Irma’s shoulder. Her grip is steady, grounding.]

MERCEDES
You are. Believe me, I’ve been there—doubting myself before every match. But you fight through it because your passion deserves to be seen.

[Irma’s fingers trail along the edge of the canvas, her gaze lingering on the bold streaks of color she once painted with such confidence.]

IRMA
It’s just… sometimes I feel like I’m shouting into a void. What if no one hears me? What if no one even cares?

[Mercedes crosses her arms, leaning casually against a nearby wall, but her expression is anything but casual. Her eyes soften as she watches Irma wrestle with her insecurities.]

MERCEDES
You know, I used to think the same thing. Every match, I’d wonder—what if I lose? What if no one remembers me? But then I realized something.

[Irma glances at her, curiosity flickering in her eyes.]

IRMA
What?

[Mercedes pushes off the wall and steps closer, her tone growing more animated.]

MERCEDES
It’s not about them. It’s about you. Your work—your art—it’s your voice. Even if only one person hears it, even if it’s just you, that’s enough. Because it’s yours.

[Irma exhales slowly, as if trying to let go of the weight pressing down on her chest.]

IRMA
Easier said than done.

[There’s a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.]

MERCEDES
Of course it is. If it were easy, everyone would do it.

[Mercedes gestures toward the painting in front of them.]

MERCEDES
But look at this. You’ve already done the hard part—you’ve put yourself out there. That takes guts.

[Irma studies the painting again, this time with a different perspective. The chaotic swirls of color that once seemed uncertain now feel deliberate, almost alive. She tilts her head slightly and lets out a soft laugh.]

IRMA
I guess I do have guts.

MERCEDES
Damn right you do! And don’t forget it.

[For a moment, they stand in comfortable silence, both women staring at the painting as if seeing it for the first time.]

[Later that evening, laughter and conversation fill the air as guests mingle and admire Irma's artwork during her show. Mercedes enters again, dressed casually but exuding confidence as she spots Irma across the room and waves.]

MERCEDES
Look at this place—it’s packed!

[Irma laughs nervously as Mercedes approaches.]

IRMA
I can’t believe it… people actually showed up.

[Mercedes places a reassuring hand on Irma's shoulder.]

MERCEDES
Of course they did! You’re amazing—and so is your work.

[Mercedes glances at one of IRMA's paintings—a bold piece with jagged lines and vibrant colors that seem to radiate energy.]

MERCEDES
This one’s my favorite. It reminds me of a match—messy but full of heart. Just like life.

[Irma looks at the painting thoughtfully as confidence grows in her expression.

[Later that night, after everyone has left, Mercedes stands alone in front of Irma's boldest painting—a piece symbolizing resilience and growth through its chaotic yet striking design.

Mercedes’ phone buzzes in her pocket. She pulls it out and reads a text from Tomas about a getaway weekend on his boat.  She smiles faintly and pockets her phone and studies the painting one last time before stepping out into the night, ready to face whatever battles lie ahead—inside or outside the ring.]


[A warm, modest dining room. The table is neatly arranged with plates and silverware. A simple family meal is laid out in the center. Mercedes sits across from her brother Jorge while their mother Estelle moves quietly around the table, refilling glasses and serving dishes.

Jorge sets his fork down, his eyes narrowing as he addresses Mercedes.]

JORGE
So, still chasing that wrestling dream? When are you going to settle down and get a real job?

[Mercedes stiffens, her jaw clenched in anticipation of a fight. She pushes her chair back slightly, her eyes locked intensely on her brother.]

MERCEDES:
Wrestling is my job, Jorge.

[Mercedes stiffens but doesn’t respond immediately. Estelle intervenes softly.]

ESTELLE:
Jorge, leave her be.

[JORGE crosses his arms over his chest but doesn’t drop his gaze from Mercedes.]

JORGE:
I just don’t see how it’s sustainable. You can't live off passion forever.

[Mercedes stiffens, ready to argue, but Estelle interrupts before she can speak.]

ESTELLE:
You know, I had dreams once too—before family became my whole world.

[Mercedes looks at Estelle in surprise. The room falls silent except for the faint clinking of silverware against plates. Estelle sits down and smiles sadly at Mercedes.]

ESTELLE
Don’t let anyone tell you to stop fighting for what you love.

[The room remains quiet after Estelle’s heartfelt words. Mercedes lowers her gaze to her plate, deep in thought as the weight of Estelle’s words sinks in. Estelle begins serving herself food again, breaking the silence.]

JORGE
Well, I just think it’s time to be practical. Dreams are great, but they don’t keep the lights on, Mercedes.

[Mercedes lifts her head, her jaw tightening as she glares at Jorge.]

MERCEDES
And what would you know about chasing dreams, Jorge?

[Estelle raises a hand, her voice calm but firm.]

ESTELLE
Enough. This is a family dinner, not a debate.

[The tension lingers for a moment before Jorge sighs and turns his attention back to his plate. Mercedes leans back in her chair, crossing her arms defensively.]

MERCEDES
You act like wrestling isn’t a real job… but it’s everything to me.

[Estelle looks at Mercedes with a soft smile, her tone gentle.]

ESTELLE
I know it is, sweetheart. And I admire that about you.

[Mercedes glances at Estelle, surprised by the support in her voice. Estelle reaches across the table to place a hand over Mercedes.]

ESTELLE
Just promise me one thing—don’t lose yourself along the way. Dreams are important, but so is remembering who you are and where you come from.

[Mercedes nods slowly, her defensive posture softening as Estelle’s words sink in.]

JORGE
You can’t live off passion alone. At some point, you’ll have to grow up and face reality.

[Mercedes exhales sharply, her patience fraying.]

MERCEDES
Reality? You think I don’t know what reality is? Every time I step into that ring, I’m putting my body on the line. Every bruise, every broken bone—that’s my reality. And it’s more real than anything you’ve ever done sitting behind a desk.

[Jorge sets his glass down with a loud clink, his jaw tightening.]

JORGE
Don’t you dare lecture me about hard work. I’ve sacrificed plenty for this family—

MERCEDES
And what do you think I’m doing? Wrestling isn’t just some hobby for me, Jorge. It’s my life. It’s who I am.

[Estelle steps in again, her voice calm but firm as she tries to diffuse the escalating argument.]

ESTELLE
Enough. Both of you.

[Her words carry weight, silencing the room for a moment. She looks at Jorge first, her expression sharp.]

ESTELLE
Jorge, your sister is not asking for your approval. She’s asking for your respect.

[Jorge leans back in his chair, crossing his arms but saying nothing. Estelle then turns to Mercedes, her gaze softening.]

ESTELLE
And you… I know how much wrestling means to you. But don’t let your anger blind you to the people who care about you.

[Mercedes looks down at her plate, her shoulders slumping slightly as Estelle’s words sink in. The room falls into another uneasy silence before Jorge finally speaks again, his tone begrudging but less harsh.]

JORGE
I just don’t want to see you get hurt… or waste your time chasing something that won’t last.

[Mercedes looks up at him, her eyes narrowing.]

MERCEDES (quietly but firmly)
Getting hurt is part of it. And so is the risk. But I’d rather fail doing something I love than spend my life wondering what could’ve been.

[Jorge studies her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighs and picks up his fork again. Jorge mutters under his breath, his tone laced with frustration.]

JORGE
Stubborn as ever.

[Estelle smiles faintly and places a hand over Mercedes’ on the table.]

ESTELLE:
That stubbornness is what makes her who she is.

[He shifted slightly, his voice dropping to a quieter murmur.]

JORGE
Well, I still think—

[Estelle shoots him a sharp look, cutting him off mid-sentence.]

ESTELLE
Jorge. Not another word.

[Jorge grumbles under his breath but says nothing more. The room falls into an uneasy silence as everyone continues eating. After a moment, Mercedes speaks softly, her gratitude evident in her gentle tone.]

ESTELLE
You know, Jorge… Mercedes isn’t wrong.

[Jorge looks up, his brow furrowing slightly as Estelle continues.]

ESTELLE
Passion doesn’t always make sense to everyone. But it’s what keeps us alive. You may not understand her world, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less valid than yours.

[Mercedes glances at her mother, surprised by the quiet strength in her voice. Estelle turns to Jorge with a knowing smile.]

ESTELLE
And let’s not forget, you weren’t always practical either. Remember when you wanted to be a musician?

[Jorge shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his expression softening as he lets out a reluctant chuckle.]

JORGE
Yeah… but that was a long time ago. I had to grow up.”

[Estelle leans forward, her tone gentle but firm.]

ESTELLE
Growing up doesn’t mean giving up on what makes you happy. It just means finding a way to make it work.

[Jorge looks at Mercedes, his gaze less critical now. There’s a flicker of something—perhaps understanding—in his eyes.]

JORGE
I guess I just don’t want to see you get hurt… or end up disappointed.

[Mercedes straightens in her chair, meeting his gaze head-on.]

MERCEDES
I get hurt every day, Jorge. That’s part of the job. But disappointment? That only happens when you stop trying.

[The room falls silent again, but this time it feels less tense. Jorge nods slowly, as if conceding the point.]

[Estelle smiles warmly and pats Mercedes’ hand before returning to her meal.]

[The lights dim slightly as the family continues their quiet dinner, leaving them in a reflective tableau.]


Present Day ♦ L O S A N G E L E S, C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[The camera pans over the vibrant, rainbow-colored Micheltorena Steps in Silver Lake, Los Angeles. Mercedes Vargas stands at the bottom, dressed in a sleek black outfit that contrasts with the bright surroundings. She looks up at the stairs, a confident smirk on her face.]

"You know, I’ve waited long enough to address everyone about Climax Control 420, the go-home show before Blaze of Glory."

[Mercedes begins walking up the stairs, her heels clicking against the concrete as she speaks.]

"And trust me, the wait was worth it. Why? Because reacting out of emotion is so basic. That’s not me. That’s not Mercedes Vargas. I don’t do petty; I do power moves."

[She pauses halfway up, turning to face the camera with a dramatic flourish.]

"I have a splitting headache, my hand hurts, my body hurts. But what hurts the most is that I know it, those stupid fans know it, all those idiots in San Francisco knows it. I had that much won last weekend. It would’ve been so easy to come here and whine about Andrea Hernandez and Kayla Richards getting lucky last weekend or Cassie Wolfe dropping the ball. But let’s be real—luck is fleeting, and mediocrity is forever."

[Mercedes continues her ascent, her voice echoing off the surrounding building.]

"In two weeks, we step into the Elimination Chamber, and let me tell you something, history has a funny way of repeating itself. Andrea Hernandez knows all too well how cruel history can be. December 2 Dismember 2019? She walked out empty-handed in her first ever Elimination Chamber match—and while she wasn't the defending champion at the time, or the one to win the title that night, but she still walked out with nothing but regret. Sure, she eventually won the title at Blaze of Glory the next year, but Evie Jordan snatched that title faster than her reign could even matter in the main event of Into the Void. And now, five years to the day she won her first Bombshell Championship? Andrea’s scared—scared of losing her title without being pinned, scared of history repeating itself like it did when Evie dethroned her at Into the Void.

"But not to worry; I’ll make it easy for Andrea. Because at Blaze of Glory, history will repeat itself again like it did in her first chamber match at December 2 Dismember, like it did at Into the Void when she lost the title to Evie. Andrea will be staring down another avalanche of failure inside the Elimination Chamber—and I’ll be the one to bury her under it. And as for Kayla Richards? If I don’t leave as champion, she won’t leave at all."

[She turns back to the camera, her expression serious.]

"But let's put everything into perspective when it comes to my opponent this weekend. Now she may more concerned about glitter, but Candy is a former Bombshell Roulette Champion. She had a 154-day reign! Did it help change anyone's opinion that she's a threat in division? Probably not, but let's get this back to where it should be.

"Candy—sweet little Candy. Congratulations on your big win over Miss Manners at Climax Control 418 and for earning your golden ticket into the Elimination Chamber match, courtesy of Christian Underwood himself."

[Mercedes descends the stairs now, her eyes locked on the camera.]

"I mean, really, it must feel like a dream come true for you. But let me be the first to wake you up because this isn’t Candyland, sweetheart—this is Sin City Wrestling, and you’re stepping into my world now."

[As she reaches the bottom, Mercedes pauses for dramatic effect.]

"You see, Candy, while you were busy sprinkling glitter and cupcakes all over the ring, I’ve been out here doing what I do best: cementing my legacy as the most decorated Bombshell in SCW history. That’s not just a title; it’s a responsibility. It’s why I don’t dwell on losses like last week’s match against Andrea Hernandez and Kayla Richards. No, I think about the bigger picture—the war, not the battle—and that war culminates inside the Elimination Chamber at Blaze of Glory.

"But before we get there, you and I have some unfinished business at Climax Control 420. You know how they say pick your battles? Well, this match wasn't my choice, but fighting is. I’m not Miss Manners, and I’m not here to play nice. When we meet in San Francisco, I’ll show you what happens when glitter meets grit. Because while you’re dreaming of rainbows and unicorns, I’m focused on one thing: domination. You may have earned your way into that Chamber match with a little win here and a little favor there, but when you stand across from me this Sunday? This isn't all about fun and games. No, I’m about making statements. And my statement is simple: no one—and I mean no one—uses me as a stepping stone to Blaze of Glory.

"Candy, let me remind you what’s at stake here. You’re walking into an Elimination Chamber match with some of the most dangerous women in this company: Andrea Hernandez, Kayla Richards, Necra Octavian Kane and yes—me. Do you really think cupcakes and glitter are going to help you survive that? Andrea is already shaking in her boots knowing she could lose her title without being pinned. Kayla Richards? She’s on borrowed time if I have anything to say about it. And you? Well, let’s just say that after Climax Control 420, your sweet little dreams of glory might just melt away faster than frosting in the sun."

[The camera follows Mercedes as she walks away from the Micheltorena Steps, her heels clicking against the pavement with every confident step. The bright colors of the stairs fade into the background, replaced by the bustling streets of Silver Lake. Mercedes stops near a mural painted on a nearby wall, its vibrant imagery providing a striking backdrop to her commanding presence.]

"These steps? They symbolize my climb—the victories, championships, and defining moments that built my legacy. And as I leave these steps behind—just as I’ve left countless opponents behind in my career—I’m reminded of what drives me forward: resilience and determination. And Candy? You’re just another step for me to conquer on my way to the top."

[Mercedes stops in front of another mural—a depiction of a phoenix rising from the ashes—and smirks as she gestures toward it. She gestures toward the mural behind her, its bold colors reflecting her intensity.]

"This mural? It’s not just paint on a wall—it’s a testament to my journey. Every stroke, every color, every detail tells a story of resilience, dominance, and legacy. Much like this city, I’ve built myself brick by brick, moment by moment, and match by match. And just like this mural stands tall amidst the chaos of Silver Lake, I stand tall in Sin City Wrestling, ready to remind everyone why I’m the most decorated Bombshell in history."

[She begins walking again, her pace deliberate and purposeful as she moves through the streets of Silver Lake. The camera keeps up with her, capturing every word as she speaks with unwavering confidence.]

"Blaze of Glory is coming, and I’m walking into that Chamber with one goal in mind—to walk out as Bombshell World Champion. As for you? Consider our match your first taste of reality because when it comes to Mercedes Vargas versus Candy... well, darling, there’s only one winner here—and it isn’t going to be you."

[Mercedes steps closer to the camera now, filling the frame with her presence as she delivers her final words.]

"So enjoy your moment in the spotlight while it lasts, Candy. And trust me when I say this: at Climax Control 420, the only thing sweeter than victory will be watching your sugar-coated dreams crumble at my feet."

***Fade***

[The crowd roars as Mercedes Vargas finishes her match. She wipes the sweat from her brow, breathing heavily but exhilarated. A talent scout approaches her. Neatly styled hair, exuding an air of authority softened by his warm smile. Dressed in a tailored blazer over a casual graphic tee, he embodies the perfect balance between business and creativity.]

TALENT SCOUT: You were incredible out there. How would you feel about auditioning for a new reality show about wrestlers?

[Mercedes looks both excited and apprehensive.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
In that moment, my heart races. A reality show? It sounds like a dream, but what if I’m not good enough? What if they see through the persona I’ve built in the ring?

MERCEDES: I… I’d love to. But what exactly are you looking for?

[The talent scout smiles, sensing her hesitation.]

TALENT SCOUT: We want authenticity. We want to see the real you, not just the wrestler everyone knows. Think of it as a chance to share your story.

MERCEDES: Oh, you want authenticity? Sure, let me just drop the 'Argentine Assassin' act and show you my true self—sitting on the couch binge watching my favorite crime dramas, where the only thing I'm assassinating is my snack stash. But hey, even assassins need a break, right? All it takes is a Netflix subscription.

TALENT SCOUT: Think about it—this is your chance to show the world who you really are beyond the ring. Your story, your struggles, your victories—they're all part of what makes you relatable. The audience wants to connect with the real you, not just the fighter. This could redefine your journey and inspire so many others.

MERCEDES: Okay, but if I start crying over my ice cream choices on camera, can I blame you?

TALENT SCOUT: Only if you promise to make it a dramatic slow-motion scene. We need the ratings."

MERCEDES (V.O.): What does it mean to be on a reality show? Will they want me to be someone I’m not? The ring is my sanctuary, but this… this feels different.

[Mercedes nods slowly, accepting the offer while her mind spins with possibilities and fears. As she walks away from the ring, the cheers of the crowd fade into a distant hum. She glances back at the ring, where she feels most at home.]

EXT. BACKSTAGE AREA - NIGHT

[Mercedes steps into the backstage area, the sounds of the crowd still echoing faintly in her ears. The dim lighting casts long shadows across the concrete floor, and the smell of sweat and adrenaline lingers in the air. She takes a moment to collect herself, leaning against a cold metal support beam, her heart racing from both the match she just fought and the unexpected offer that now looms over her.

Suddenly, Ricardo approaches, breaking through the haze of uncertainty.]

RICARDO: Hey, what’s going on? You look like you just faced a bear in there.

[Mercedes forces a smile but can’t hide her apprehension.]

MERCEDES: A talent scout just offered me a shot at a reality show about wrestlers.

[Ricardo's eyes widen with excitement.]

RICARDO: That’s amazing! You should totally go for it.

[Mercedes shakes her head slightly, doubt creeping in.]

MERCEDES: But what if they want me to be someone I’m not? What if they don’t like the real me?

[Ricardo steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on Mercedes’ shoulder.]

RICARDO: Mercedes, you’re incredible just as you are. You’ve built this persona in the ring for a reason—because it’s part of who you are. Just let them see that.

[Mercedes looks into Ricardo's eyes, searching for reassurance.

The noise around her fades as she focuses on what lies ahead. Tonight might just be the beginning of something extraordinary—or it could be another step into vulnerability. Either way, she knows she must face it head-on.]

INT. MERCEDES’ APARTMENT - LATER

[The talent scout’s words echo in her mind as she heads home, each step heavy with anticipation and doubt. Mercedes sits on her bed, staring at herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back is both familiar and foreign—a fierce wrestler who commands respect in the ring but also a woman grappling with self-doubt. She takes a deep breath and speaks to her reflection.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
I’ve built this persona—strong, confident, unbreakable. But what if they want me to be something else? What if they want me to play a role instead of being myself?

[She takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair, trying to calm the storm brewing inside her.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
Maybe this is my chance to show everyone that I’m more than just a wrestler. Maybe I can inspire others by being authentic.

MERCEDES: What if they think I’m just another pretty face? What if they don’t see the fighter inside?

[Her reflection stares back silently, challenging her doubts. She leans closer to the mirror.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
I’ve fought against opponents who wanted to break me. But this feels more personal. It’s about showing who I really am.

[She straightens up, determination flickering in her eyes.]

[As she contemplates her next steps, determination begins to replace doubt. She knows that embracing her true self might be the greatest challenge yet—but it’s also an opportunity for growth.]

INT. COFFEE SHOP - DAY

[Mercedes sits at a small table in the corner of the bustling coffee shop, flanked by her brother and friends. Her laptop open in front of her but forgotten for the moment. She stirs her latte absentmindedly, watching the steam rise and swirl before dissipating into the air. The cozy atmosphere contrasts sharply with the whirlwind of thoughts racing through her mind. Her brother, Jorge, animatedly recounts a story from his day, his hands gesturing wide as he leans forward, drawing everyone into his narrative.]

JORGE: And then I told him, “You can’t just walk in there without a plan!”

[Laughter erupts around the table, and Mercedes can’t help but smile at the joy radiating from her friends. Yet, beneath the surface, a current of anxiety runs through her. Thomas nudges her playfully, breaking through her thoughts.]

TOMAS: You all right? You’ve been quiet since the match.

[Mercedes glances up, forcing a smile as she meets their curious gazes.]

MERCEDES: Just... trying to wrap my head around everything. I got approached by a talent scout. I might be auditioning for a reality show.

[Jorge raises an eyebrow, smirking.]

JORGE: Reality TV? Isn’t that where careers go to die?

[Irma rolls her eyes at Jorge's comment.]

IRMA: Come on, Jorge. This is a big opportunity for her.

[Mercedes looks down, feeling the weight of Jorge's words.]

IRMA: This is huge, Mercedes! You have to go for it.

RICARDO: Yeah, embrace it! Show them who you really are.

[But as they cheer her on, Mercedes can’t shake the feeling of vulnerability that tightens in her chest. She has always been a fighter, but this is a different kind of battle—one that requires exposing herself beyond the mat.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
I’ve fought against opponents who wanted to break me, but this feels more personal. What if they don’t like the real me?

[As they continue to chat and share stories, Mercedes allows herself to relax slightly, letting their laughter wash over her. The café buzzes with life around them—baristas calling out orders and patrons chatting amiably—creating a sense of community that feels reassuring.]

INT. MERCEDES' APARTMENT - NIGHT

[The soft glow of the overhead lights casts a warm ambiance in Mercedes' apartment, where the walls are adorned with posters of her wrestling idols and framed photographs of her journey. In front of a large mirror, she stands with Ricardo, who is helping her prepare for the audition that looms just hours away.]

RICARDO: Just be yourself. Embrace your personality—it’s makes you unique.

[Mercedes nods, though a flicker of doubt crosses her face. She adjusts her outfit, a vibrant mix of colors that reflects her spirited nature, but the nerves are still there.

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Irma and Tomas burst in with quirky training props: a giant foam finger and colorful wigs.]

IRMA: We’ve got some unconventional training methods for you.

[Mercedes can't help but laugh as Irma dramatically waves the foam finger in the air, pretending to cheer her on. The tension in the room begins to dissipate, replaced by a lighthearted atmosphere.]

TOMAS: You need to channel your inner superstar! Let’s see some flair!
With a playful grin, Tomas tosses a bright pink wig at Mercedes, who catches it mid-laugh. She puts it on, instantly transforming into an exaggerated version of herself, complete with over-the-top gestures.]

MERCEDES: How do I look?

RICARDO: Like a champion ready to take on the world!

[As they all burst into laughter, Mercedes feels the weight of her anxiety lift slightly. The camaraderie and support from her friends remind her that she doesn’t have to face this challenge alone.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
Maybe this is what I need—just to have fun and remember why I love this.

INT. AUDITION ROOM - DAY

[Mercedes stands in front of the panel of judges, nerves creeping in. She tries to balance her wrestling persona with her true self.]

MERCEDES (V.O.)
What if they want me to be someone I’m not? Can I really show them who I am?

[As she performs, she stumbles through some lines but pushes through with determination.]

EXT. WRESTLING GYM - DAY

[Mercedes trains hard with Ricardo and Irma by her side. They practice various moves while discussing strategy for the audition.]

RICARDO: Just remember: be yourself out there. That’s your greatest strength.

[Mercedes pauses mid-practice, contemplating his words.]

MERCEDES: What if being myself isn’t enough? What if they want drama instead of authenticity?

IRMA: Then give them drama. But make it your drama—your story!

[Mercedes nods slowly, feeling their support bolster her confidence. As she prepares for the audition later that week, Mercedes stands backstage once again, heart pounding as she watches others perform before her. Each person embodies their own version of strength and confidence. When it’s finally her turn, she steps into the spotlight and faces the judges with a mix of excitement and trepidation.]

 INT. AUDITION ROOM - LATER

[The room is brightly lit, filled with the faint scent of fresh paint and the lingering tension of hopeful contestants.
With a confident stride, she steps into the room, where three judges sit behind a long table, their expressions a mix of curiosity and expectation. The walls are adorned with posters of legendary wrestlers, a reminder of the legacy she aspires to join.

Mercedes stands just outside the door, her heart racing. She takes a deep breath, grounding herself as she recalls the feedback from her last audition. This time, she’s determined to show her true self.]

MERCEDES (to judges): I’m not just a wrestler; I’m someone who believes in being true to myself. I’m back for my second chance, and I want to make it count.

[She glances at the judges, their eyes fixed on her, and feels a rush of adrenaline. One judge, an older man with a weathered face and a thoughtful expression, leans forward slightly. The other judge was a woman with sharp features and an air of authority.]

JUDGE 1: That’s refreshing to hear.

JUDGE 2: Show us what you’ve got!

• • •

Present Day ♦ S A N T A M O N I C A, C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[As Mercedes Vargas stands confidently in front of the camera at Santa Monica Pier, the sun sets behind her, casting a golden glow that highlights her fierce presence. She’s dressed in a striking, fitted leather jacket adorned with shimmering sequins that catch the light with every movement, giving her an electric aura. Underneath, she wears a sleek, form-fitting graphic tee that showcases her iconic logo, a nod to her wrestling legacy.

Her bottoms are stylish black leggings that allow for both comfort and flair, featuring subtle cut-out details along the sides that add an edgy touch. On her feet, she sports bold ankle boots with chunky heels, elevating her stature and completing the look with an air of confidence.

Mercedes accessorizes with statement hoop earrings and a few layered necklaces that glint in the sunlight. Her hair is styled in loose waves, cascading over her shoulders, framing her face perfectly as she speaks passionately to the camera.]

"I never used to believe it, but I guess the saying is true: maybe we're doomed to burn twice as bright, half as long, you know? Over the years, I've gotten so much criticism, sometimes they're warranted, most times they're not. 'Mercedes is past her prime,' 'Ugh, she always get title opportunities,' 'Mercedes should have retired five years ago.' And, I mean, I kind of get it: It’s frustrating to feel like the other talent are constantly fighting for scraps while others bask in the spotlight. It's just that in my case, whether you’re a fan or a doubter or another Bombshell on the roster, the complaints never ends."

"2024 had been a tough year for me, the first of many, honestly. I've faced challenges that tested my resolve and made me question my path in this sport. There were moments when I felt like giving up, when the weight of expectations and setbacks seemed too heavy to bear. Yes, even for a two-time Hall of Famer."

[Mercedes leans in slightly, her eyes locked onto the camera, intensifying her message.]

"People don't realize how much pressure and hard work and dedication it takes to remain at the top in the Bombshell Division, whether holding a title or not. I've never had a major injury and to be relevant and competitive going on 12 years without falling off the radar takes relentless effort and undeniable talent."

[She gestures emphatically, emphasizing her point.]

"I’ve watched others rise and fall, and I’ve felt the sting of defeat more than once. I’ve seen my peers celebrate their successes, and while I’ve cheered them on, there’s always been a lingering question in my mind: when will I finally get my fair share?"

[Mercedes takes a deep breath, her voice steady and powerful as she continues.]

"As we step into 2025, I’m ready for a fresh start. This new year brings renewed energy and determination, and I’m focused on turning things around. This weekend, I'm competiting in my first most of the new year, and I’m here to prove that I belong at the top. I just didn't think I would be starting at the top."

[Mercedes pauses, crossing her arms confidently, and gives a knowing smile, as if to say she's been through it all before and emerged stronger.]

"I'm facing Kayla Richards, a formidable opponent and, well, I'm not sure how I should address her: is it 2 Beltz Kayla, Kayla 2 Beltz, the Forever Champion, SCW Woman of the Year? If I’m wrong, maybe she will correct me in the nicest way possible. It’s been a while, almost too long. I’m genuinely glad we're sharing the ring for the first time in ages, but maybe she doesn't feel that way, and that’s okay. She may have the upper hand against me because of our past matches, but that was then, and this is now. This isn’t just about winning a match; it’s about reclaiming my place in this division and proving to everyone that I am still one of the best in this division for well over a decade."

[Mercedes takes a deep breath, her expression shifting from fierce determination to a calm, calculated focus.]

"Kayla may come off as stuck-up, arrogant, and condescending, but let’s not forget the incredible year she had in 2024—one that will likely never be equaled by anyone in Sin City Wrestling (SCW) again. Her dominance in the ring was nothing short of legendary, and her accomplishments are a testament to her talent and hard work. She deserves her flowers."

[Mercedes takes a moment to let her words resonate.]

"People like Kayla say I'm 'past my prime,' yet here I am, still standing, still competing, and still relevant in a division that chews people up and spits them out. Longevity isn’t a weakness—it’s a testament to my skill, adaptability, and passion. I’ve faced the toughest opponents and risen to the occasion time and again. In a division of twentysomethings, overnight sensations, yesterday's hopefuls, and tomorrow's stars, keeping up is only half the battle. This match will be no different."

[Mercedes straightens up, her smirk fading into a look of steely resolve as she continues.]

"You see, Kayla, arrogance like yours is a funny thing. It burns bright, loud, and blinding—until someone snuffs it out. You walk around here like the sun sets on your ass, like your reigns and your records make you invincible. But the truth is, they don’t make you untouchable; they make you a target. And I’ve been hitting bullseyes long before you even laced up your first pair of boots. You’re so desperate to protect your ‘legacy,’ but let me remind you of something: legacies aren’t built on fear. They’re built on respect. And judging by the way you talk about everyone in that locker room—about me—it’s clear you don’t have an ounce of it to give. That’s fine. You don’t have to respect me now. But after I beat you, after I show you that even the so-called 'best' can fall, you’ll have no choice but to."

[Mercedes pauses for a moment, letting the intensity of her words linger in the air before she continues, her voice steady and resolute.]

"You think beating me would be meaningless? That I’m just some relic of the past? Let me tell you something about relics: they endure. They survive. They stand the test of time while people like you burn out and fade away. You think you’re untouchable now, but one day, someone younger, hungrier, and better will come along and do to you exactly what you’re trying to do to me. And when that day comes, Kayla, I hope you remember this moment. Because it’s not age that humbles people—it’s reality."

[Mercedes takes a step closer to the camera, her voice dropping into a tone that’s almost chilling.]

"I am not defined by opinions or doubts, whether yours, Kayla, or anyone else. I've fought tooth and nail to be here, and every time I step into that ring, I prove that I still have what it takes to compete at the highest level. You can question my title opportunities, but never my resolve. You'll realize that this wasn’t just another day at the office for you. Because you're facing more than just an opponent—you’ll be facing a legacy. And legacies never fade away quietly; they roar back with a vengeance." 

[Mercedes takes a moment, her gaze unwavering as she allows the weight of her words to settle. The intensity in her eyes speaks volumes, revealing a fierce determination that has been cultivated over years of hard-fought battles.]

"I’m not just going to beat you, oh no; I’m going to expose every flaw in your game, Kayla. I’m going to show you that all those years of experience I’ve accumulated are worth more than any title you’ve held. And when the match is over, when you’re left lying on that mat wondering what went wrong, I want you to remember this moment. Remember that it was your arrogance that led you here. Remember that it was your underestimation of me that cost you everything. Because when I walk out of that ring victorious, it won’t just be a win for me; it will be a message to everyone watching: Mercedes Vargas is still here, still fighting, and still a force to be reckoned with.

"2025 is my year of resurgence, and it starts with you. So let’s see if you can handle the real Mercedes Vargas—the one who refuses to back down and is ready to claim her place at the top."

[She pauses for a moment, letting her words sink in before delivering her final blow.]

"So go ahead, bring your ‘pissed-off Kayla Richards.’ Bring the woman who ‘ends careers’ and ‘makes people run for the hills.’ You can bring every ounce of arrogance and condescension you’ve got because none of it will matter when that bell rings. When it’s just you and me in that ring, all the words in the world won’t save you from what’s coming. And when it’s over—when I’ve left you staring up at those lights—you’ll realize something: all your bravado was just a mask for the one thing you can’t admit to yourself."

[Mercedes leans in closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a whisper.]

"That deep down…you’re terrified of losing everything to someone like me."

[With that, she steps back, her smirk returning as she folds her arms across her chest.]

"See you in the ring, champ."

[Her voice softens.]

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

[With a fierce determination, Mercedes walks away, leaving a clear message that she’s ready to dominate and teach a lesson in the ring.]

[***Fade***]

S U N P R I N C E S S C R U I S E L I N E R

[Mercedes Vargas gazes out at the breathtaking skyline, her long black hair cascading down her back, framing her face with an air of elegance. Dressed in a striking short red dress, she commanded attention, the vibrant color echoing her passionate spirit. A delicate blue flower nestled behind her right ear, a subtle yet charming detail that added a touch of serenity to her appearance.

[She slightly lowers her head, the pain of Sunday's outcome at Summer XXXTreme still felt raw, still felt numb to the point where she struggles to process her emotions, the weight of disappointment hangs heavy. Memories of the match replay in her mind, each moment a reminder of what could have been.

[Ricardo walks onto the deck, noticing her near the railing.]

RICARDO: You all right? You’ve been quiet since the match.

[His voice breaks the silence, prompting her to look up, revealing a flicker of vulnerability beneath her poised exterior.]

MERCEDES: Just trying to wrap my head around everything. I thought I had it in the bag.

RICARDO: I know it hurts. But you fought hard. That counts for something.

MERCEDES: Does it? It feels like a failure right now.

RICARDO: It’s not. Every setback is a setup for a comeback. You’ll bounce back stronger.

MERCEDES: You really think so? I just feel lost.

RICARDO: Trust me. Take some time, but don’t let this define you. You’re too talented for that.

MERCEDES: Thanks, Ricardo. I needed to hear that.

RICARDO: Anytime. Remember, even the best have their off days. Look at the champions; they’ve all faced defeat at some point.

MERCEDES: That’s true. I guess I just wanted to prove myself, especially after all the buildup.

RICARDO: And you did! You showed everyone what you’re capable of. It’s just one match. You’ve got a whole career ahead of you.

MERCEDES: I know, but it’s hard to shake off the feeling of disappointment. It’s like a shadow that won’t leave.

RICARDO: I get that. But think about what you can learn from this. What would you do differently next time?

MERCEDES: I suppose I could focus more on my strategy. I got a bit caught up in the moment.

RICARDO: Exactly! Use this experience to fuel your fire. You’re not just a competitor; you’re a force to be reckoned with.

MERCEDES: You always know how to lift my spirits. I appreciate you being here.

RICARDO: Always. And hey, how about we grab some food? A little distraction might help.

MERCEDES: That sounds perfect. Let’s do it!

[After their exchange, Ricardo gently places his hand on her shoulder. It was the least he could do.]

• • •

[Mercedes and her friends disembark from the cruise ship, the salty breeze tousling their hair. As they stepped onto the dock, the sun warmed their faces, and laughter filled the air as they chat about the memorable experiences they shared on board.]

IRMA: I can't believe the cruise is over! It feels like just yesterday we were setting sail.

TOMAS: Remember that sunset dinner on the deck? It was breathtaking.

HUGO: And the karaoke night! You totally stole the show, Mercedes!

MERCEDES: Only because you guys cheered me on! What was your favorite part, Richie?

RICARDO: Definitely the snorkeling trip. Those fish were so colorful!

IRMA: I loved the dance parties! We should do this again next year.

MERCEDES: Did I mention I’m heading to Thailand?

IRMA: Wow, that sounds fantastic! Are you trying any local dishes?

RICARDO: Next time, we’re all going together. I want to experience that!

TOMAS: Absolutely. What are you most excited to see?

MERCEDES: The street food. I've heard the pad thai and mango sticky rice are must-tries.

HUGO: Those are delicious! Are you planning to visit any temples?

MERCEDES: Yes! I want to see Wat Pho and the Grand Palace. The architecture looks stunning.

IRMA: You’ll love it! The culture is so rich. Are you going to do any shopping?

MERCEDES: Definitely! I want to check out the markets for some unique souvenirs.

RICARDO: Make sure to bargain! It’s part of the experience.

MERCEDES: I’ll keep that in mind! I’m just so excited to immerse myself in everything.

HUGO: You’re going to have the best time! Have you thought about any specific markets you want to visit?

MERCEDES: I’ve heard the Chatuchak Weekend Market is a must. It’s huge and has everything from clothes to handicrafts.

IRMA: That sounds amazing. Just don’t get lost in there. It’s easy to spend hours browsing.

TOMAS: And make sure to try some street snacks while you’re there! I’ve heard the grilled meats are incredible.

RICARDO: Oh, and don’t forget about the coconut ice cream. It’s supposed to be heavenly.

MERCEDES: I’m writing all of this down. I want to make the most of my trip.

HUGO: You should also check out some cooking classes. Learning to make Thai dishes would be a fun souvenir to bring back.

MERCEDES: That’s a great idea. I’d love to learn how to make green curry.

IRMA: And you can host a dinner party when you get back to show us what you learned.

RICARDO: Count me in! I’ll bring the drinks.

THOMAS: This is going to be epic. We’ll be living vicariously through you until we can go together.

MERCEDES: I promise to take tons of photos and share all the stories. I can’t wait to tell you about my adventures.

IRMA: Just make sure to send us some pictures of the food. We want to drool over your meals.

MERCEDES: You got it. I’ll keep everyone updated. Now, let’s grab a bite to eat before we head home. I’m starving.

IRMA: Good idea. Let’s find a nice café nearby. We can keep the vacation vibes going just a little longer.

TOMAS: Lead the way, Mercedes. We’ll celebrate the end of this trip and the start of your next adventure.

[As they walk together, laughter fills the air, their excitement for the future blending seamlessly with the memories of their recent cruise.]

• • •

Present Day ♦ S A N T A M O N I C A, C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[In front of the camera, Mercedes takes a deep breath, her excitement is adamant as she stands confidently at Santa Monica Pier, the vibrant atmosphere buzzing with energy around her. Dressed in stylish summer gear, she sports a fitted tank top that showcases her toned arms and a pair of high-waisted shorts that highlight her athletic build. A pair of trendy sunglasses rests atop her head, catching the sunlight, while her hair flows freely in the ocean breeze.]

"So, Summer XXXTreme has come and gone. I poured my heart and soul into that the Ultimate X Over the Pool. I fought hard, and while I walked off that cruise ship empty-handed, again, I know I gave it my all. The competition was fierce, and I learned a lot about myself and my opponents. That said, Victoria Lyons, I owe you an apology, I really wasn't familiar with your game. I don't get impressed easily, and I was left impressed. We may be going our separate ways, but I'm sure this won't be the last time we see each other."

[Mercedes pauses, takes a deep breath, and clenches her fists, showcasing her determination. Like Mercedes, Alexandra Calaway and Bella Madison also gave their all, but Victoria wouldn't go quietly. In Mercedes's mind, it was destiny delayed, not denied.]

"After some much-needed R&R, I'm ready to step back into that ring and prove myself as we approach this weekend's showdown. That leads me to this weekend where I, Mercedes Vargas, step into the ring against Diamond Steele and SCW newcomer Raine. This is supposedly a Proving Grounds match, but exactly who has something to prove here? Raine stumbled in her debut last weekend and Diamond is four matches into her in-ring return and her first match in over a month."

[Mercedes exudes confidence as she addresses her opponents with unwavering determination.]

"Raine, I'll start with you. Now, I get it. It’s tough starting a new job. The anxiety, the butterflies, making a first impression – preferably the right impression...it’s enough to make anyone a nervous wreck. Taking the SATs would be a piece of cake compared to this. And no matter how many times you've convinced yourself, the butterflies in your stomach never seem to let up. The questions never seem to let up either: are your coworkers going to like you? Were they going to pick on you? How are you going to act around management? Fitting in as “the new girl” and starting out on the right foot are probably the least of your worries, mamita. Living up to the hype you've built up for yourself is probably going to be tougher than you expected."

[Mercedes pauses, crossing her arms confidently, and gives a knowing smile, as if to say she's been through it all before and emerged stronger.]

"For the first time in years, you're the rookie again, the newcomer, the fish out of water. Having to learn new names and faces will take getting used to, but then this is what you signed up for. You signed on the dotted line and now you're officially part of the Sin City Wrestling roster. The first few days, weeks and months will be telling as to how you're received by what I'm assuming will be a capacity crowd in Bangkok, Thailand in just a few days time.

"Your opponents will be ready, the crowd will be ready, but will you? As the latest addition to the Bombshell roster, you had better be. In a division of twentysomethings, overnight sensations, yesterday's hopefuls, and tomorrow's stars, keeping up is only half the battle.

[Mercedes takes a moment to adjust her stance, exuding confidence and focus.]

"Now the question remains whether you will stand out from the crowd or become just another face in the crowd. I know you are one of my next opponents, and it doesn’t matter to me what you’ve done in other companies. You believe you are the hottest new thing on the block, but on Sunday, you are just another person standing across from me. And I’m going to beat you because I’m not just better than you think—I’m better than you think you are."

[Mercedes leans in slightly, her eyes locked onto the camera, intensifying her message.]

"Now, granted, you may have given Andrea a run for her money last weekend, but when it comes to skill, I’m in a league of my own. You’re stepping into the ring with someone who’s not just experienced but relentless. I’m sure you’ve taken the time to study my moves, anticipate my strategies, and prepare to counter everything I throw at you. You might think you’ve seen everything I have to offer, but trust me, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.

"I know you’ll bring everything you have, and I welcome the challenge. But understand this, Raine: I’m not just another opponent. I’m a competitor who thrives under pressure, who rises to the occasion when the stakes are high. But don’t think I’m going to underestimate you; every loss is a lesson learned. Lucky for you, school’s in session, and I’m the teacher. Raine and Diamond, you may think you’re ready for this challenge, but I’m about to school you in the art of wrestling."

[Mercedes gives a confident nod, as if to emphasize her readiness and determination. She pauses, letting her words sink in before turning her attention to Diamond Steele.]

"And as for you, Diamond? It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Almost too long. I’m genuinely glad we're sharing the ring for the first time in ages, but maybe you don’t feel that way, and that’s okay. Since Into the Void, you kinda fell off the grid in SCW, so I totally understand that Mark had to find warm bodies for this tournament of his, but if you think you can just stroll in and take the spotlight, I’m here to remind you that I’m not just another opponent. I’m a force to be reckoned with. We’ve shared this ring, faced each other time and time again. If you think I’m going to be intimidated or worried because you showed up, or because your name is next to mine, you are dead wrong.

"Here's the thing that sets me apart from every other so-called 'legend' in this business. I'm not content with past glories. I'm not here to rest on my laurels or reminisce about the 'good old days'. Every match, every promo, every moment in this ring is another chance for me to prove why I'm the best damn wrestler SCW has ever seen."

[Mercedes Vargas continues, her eyes locked on the camera with a determined gaze.]

"This Sunday, it’s not just about reminiscing on past encounters; it’s about creating a new chapter. A chapter where I come out on top, where I show the world that I’m not just a name from the past, but a dominant force in the present. The only thing that this match is really about for me, is proving myself at least one more time."

[Mercedes Vargas takes a moment to let her words resonate before delivering her final thoughts.]

"So Raine, Diamond? bring your best, because I’m coming to claim my victory. The question isn’t who is going to let me; it's who is going to stop me."

[As she exhales slowly, a flicker of determination ignites within her, pushing her to confront the challenges ahead, ready to channel her frustration into future victories.

[Her voice softens.]

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

[With a fierce determination, Mercedes Vargas walks away, leaving a clear message that she’s ready to dominate and teach a lesson in the ring.]

[***Fade***]

[Mercedes Vargas walks out of the bustling Bombshell locker room, her confidence radiating after her recent victory over Bobbie Dahl. As Mercedes makes her way through the crowded space, she spots Janet the Makeup Lady, who was busy applying the finishing touches to a wrestler's makeup. Janet looks up and caught Mercedes' eye, a warm smile spreading across her face.

Janet the Makeup Lady:  There you are! Congratulations on that win over Bobbie Dahl. You absolutely crushed it out there!

[Mercedes beamed with pride, feeling a sense of validation from Janet's praise.]

Mercedes: Actually, I thought Bobbie was about to crush me out there, but thanks, Janet. It was a tough match, but I'm glad I came out on top.

Janet the Makeup Lady: You deserve it. You've been on a roll, and it shows. Now, I have some news to share with you. You're scheduled to face off against Ariana Angelos.

[Mercedes' expression turned serious, her mind already racing with strategies for the upcoming match.]

Mercedes: Ariana, huh? That's going to be a tough one. But I'm ready for her.

[Janet nodded, her confidence in Mercedes evident.]

Janet the Makeup Lady: I know you are, Mercedes. You've got this. Just remember to stay focused and trust your instincts. You'll do great.

[With that, the two women parted ways, each returning to their respective preparations for the next match. The air in the locker room remained electric, filled with the anticipation of what was to come.]

After most losses earlier in the year, Mercedes Vargas would look up at the arena lights, her eyes reflecting the harsh glare as she contemplated her performance. The sights and sounds of the crowd washed over her, the sting of defeat weighed heavily on her shoulders.
Sentimentality. Melancholy. A sense of loss, but she refused to let it break her spirit. Instead, she used those moments to fuel her determination and drive for improvement.

As the year continued, Mercedes began to channel her post-loss ritual into a source of strength. Each time she gazed upward, she silently vowed to work harder, train smarter, and come back stronger. The fire in her eyes growing brighter with each passing match, her determination unwavering.

And now, whatever two-month lull that she had at the start of 2024 seemed like a distant memory. Mercedes had transformed her outlook. The arena lights no longer represented failure, but rather illuminated the path to success. Her resilience paid off as she's had several crucial victories, including her first win in a Climax Control main event in years. Mercedes Vargas had turned her moments of reflection into a catalyst for growth, proving that sometimes, looking up is the first step to rising above.

The ultimate achievement in any SCW Bombshell career is to win a championship, with some having gone to winning the world championship. Various Hall of Famers and current Bombshells on the roster can say this. For others, winning a championship, much less the world championship, is a plateau they may never reach.

Despite her impressive accolades, Mercedes Vargas' journey in Sin City Wrestling remains incomplete without a championship title. She's won a lot of these, sure, but none in the past few years. As a two-time Hall of Famer, Mercedes has undoubtedly left an indelible mark on the history books, but her next elusive championship continues to evade her grasp over the last three years.

As Mercedes continues to compete in SCW, her quest for championship gold again adds an intriguing layer to what has been a struggling year in 2024. The tension between her established legacy and the unfulfilled dream of holding another title now carries the weight of her unbridled ambition.

She had secured another opportunity at Summer XXXTreme in the Ultimate X Over the Pool for the Bombshell Roulette Championship in a few weeks, but her job was not finished yet. If the Bombshell locker room haven't taken notice of Mercedes' relentless pursuit then, they will now.

This weekend, she had the inevitable task of keeping someone out of this match. An interloper, an intruder, a Bombshell who very well may have enticed the owners for a chance to also take part in challenging Alexandra Calaway and fellow challenger Victoria Lyons for the gold.

Alexandra has the title, Victoria has the number one contendership, Mercedes has the momentum.

And Ariana Angelos, her opponent?

She has a fight on her hands.

• • •

[Mercedes Vargas sighs as she gatheres her laundry, preparing for another trip to the laundromat. The piles of dirty clothes seemed to multiply by the day in her small apartment. She grabs her basket and heads out, determined to get her chores done quickly.

At the laundromat, Mercedes finds an empty machine and began sorting her clothes. As she loads the washer, a familiar face caught her eye.]

Mercedes: Betsabé! I didn't expect to see you here.

Betsabé: Mercedes! What a surprise. I'm just finishing up my laundry. How have you been?

Mercedes: Busy as always. It's been a while since we've had a chance to catch up.

Betsabé: Tell me about it. Between work and family, it's hard.

Mercedes: How's little Juan doing?

Betsabé: He's growing up so fast. He's already started talking and walking. It's amazing how quickly they grow.

[Mercedes sat down in the worn, plastic chair, watching the spin cycle of the washing machine. She pulled out her phone and began scrolling through social media, catching up on the latest news and gossip. The hum of the machines and the chatter of the other patrons created a soothing background noise.

Mercedes couldn't help but notice the differences in their laundry routines. Betsabé, a skilled laundry worker, efficiently moved through the process, while Mercedes struggled with the unfamiliar machines. Betsabé shared her secrets for efficient laundry day.]

Betsabé: The key is to have a system. Sort your clothes by color and fabric type, and always check the pockets before washing. It saves time and prevents any mishaps.

Mercedes: That makes so much sense! I've been doing it all wrong. No wonder my whites never come out as bright as yours.

Betsabé: Exactly. And always use the right amount of detergent. Too much can leave residue, and too little won't get your clothes clean.

Mercedes: Did I tell you the time I met Shaq?

Betsabé: This is random, but I like to hear this one.

[Mercedes nods.]

[FLASHBACK: A young Mercedes is walking down the streets of Las Vegas when she suddenly bumps into the towering figure of Shaquille O'Neal.]

Mercedes: Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there.

Shaquille: No worries, little lady. I'm a big guy, hard to miss.

Mercedes: You're Shaquille O'Neal! I can't believe I just ran into a basketball legend.

Shaquille: In the flesh. And who might you be?

Mercedes: I'm Mercedes Vargas. I'm actually an actress trying to make it big in Vegas.

Shaquille: An actress, huh? Well, you're in the right place, kid. Vegas is where dreams are made.

Mercedes: I sure hope so. It's been tough, but I'm not giving up.

Shaquille: That's the spirit. You know, I've dabbled in acting myself. Maybe we could run lines together sometime.

Mercedes: Are you serious? That would be amazing! Thank you so much, Mr. O'Neal.

Shaquille: Call me Shaq. And don't mention it. Anything to help a fellow performer.

Mercedes: You're the best! I'll never forget this chance encounter.

Shaquille: Neither will I, Mercedes. Now go out there and show 'em what you're made of.

Mercedes: I will! Thanks again, Shaq!

[End flashback.]

Betsabé: That's amazing, Mercedes. Who would have thought a chance encounter in Vegas could turn into such a memorable experience?

Mercedes: I know, right? It just goes to show you never know what kind of surprises life has in store.

Betsabé: Did you get his autograph?

Mercedes: Sadly, no.

[As they parted ways, Mercedes made a mental note to learn a few tricks from Betsabé next time they met for laundry day. For now, she was just grateful to have her clean clothes ready for the week ahead.]

• • •

Present Day ♦ L O S A N G E L E S • C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[Mercedes Vargas descends the stairs of the iconic Micheltorena Stairs, her footsteps echoing on the tile risers. She gazes down at the colorful mosaic steps, taking in the vibrant artwork and stunning views of the surrounding neighborhood. She turns to face the camera, a determined look on her face.]

"Apparently, my demise was greatly exaggerated. Some competitors respect my drive to be the best, others see me as vulnerable, a former multi-time champion desperately clinging to relevance. No matter how you see it, this perception has led to increasingly fierce rivalries, as up-and-coming talent seek to make their mark by defeating me, while I'm fighting to prove I still has what it takes to reign supreme, even though I really don't have anything to prove to anyone."

[Her face brightens as she smiles, her lips curving upwards in a gentle, warm arc. The smile is soft and inviting, radiating a sense of calm and contentment.]

"So just after beating Bobbie Dahl two weeks ago, what am I in for this weekend? Glad you asked. In a dramatic turn of events, I find myself facing off against Ariana Angelos, a former Bombshell Roulette Champion and Bombshell Internet Champion, a rising star half my age known for her innovative style and seemingly unbreakable spirit. And by "unbreakable spirit" I really mean stupidly annoying. Ariana hasn't had the best of luck in Sin City Wrestling lately, and to see what she's had to go through? My heart cries for her."

[She pauses down the steps for a moment, her expression thoughtful. Then, suddenly, her face breaks into a wide grin. Throwing her head back, Mercedes erupts into a fit of laughter, the sound ringing out bright and joyful.]

"Not to worry, though, because nothing will bring me great joy this weekend than seeing the Slaytanic Angel brought back down to Earth again. And Ari? You will be humbled again. This match won't just be a defeat for you, oh no. It'll be a public execution of your career, broadcast for the whole world to see. I'm going to use you as an example, to show everyone what happens when you dare to step to the best in this business.

"I know you've been waiting to hear my thoughts on our match, Ariana. But let me first offer my advice: just stay in catering. Or, better yet, just forfeit the match. Don't even board the next plane to Pueblo, Colorado. But if you do board that plane. If you're brave enough, or even foolish enough, to show up to the arena. If your entrance music hits as I'm waiting in that ring, Ari, I promise you that you're going to be in for the fight of your life. I'll tear you apart piece by piece, exposing you as the fraud you truly are. Your so-called "wrestling skills" will be nothing but a distant memory once I'm done with you. And you'll be sent on your merry way.

"You think you've seen my worst, Ari? You haven't seen anything yet. You can do all the yelling you want. The more you stomp and shout, the more desperate you seem. When that bell rings, I'm going to unleash a fury on you that'll make your past humiliations look like a walk in the park."

[Mercedes pauses, her expression turning serious.]

"You think you're ready for me, you think you can step up to me? Don't make me laugh, mamita. I'll humiliate you in front of the entire world, proving once and for all that you're nothing but a marginal talent in the Bombshell Division. The crowd will turn on you, realizing that you're not worthy of their adoration. The world will see you for the weak, pathetic excuse for a wrestler that you are. And when it's all over, you'll wish you had never stepped into my ring."

[Mercedes pauses, her expression hardening.]

"You've been living in a fantasy world, Ari, thinking you belong in the same ring as me. Well, it's time for a reality check. I'm going to shatter those delusions along with whatever's left of your pride. When I'm done, you'll be nothing but a broken shell of the wrestler you thought you were. Pueblo, Colorado isn't just another stop on the tour for you - it's where your delusions of grandeur come crashing down. You've been running your mouth for far too long, and now it's time to pay the piper. Your pitiful excuses, your empty boasts - they all end this weekend.

[She shakes her head, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.]

"I'm going to teach you a lesson in respect, one that'll be etched into your bones. Every bruise, every welt, every drop of sweat will be a testament to your foolishness in challenging me.

[She points directly at the camera, her voice rising with conviction.]

"When I'm done with you, the name "Ari" will be synonymous with failure in this industry. Kids will use your story as a cautionary tale of what happens when you bite off more than you can chew. Your defeat will be so total, so complete, that you'll be begging for the referee to call the match just to end your misery."

[She leans in closer to the camera, her voice dropping to a menacing growl.]

"You're not getting a championship opportunity off of my hard work. You're getting a one-way ticket to obscurity."

[She steps back, arms folded and an arrogant smirk on her face.]

"Long before you knew, and long after you'll remember. I'll see you Sunday."

***Fade***

Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 12 al 18 de mayo de 2024

At Climax Control 392, two streaks was on the line, a winning streak and a losing streak. After two weeks ago, one of them was broken. If you want to make a statement, pulling off an upset against the reigning Bombshell Internet Champion can do wonders for your career. That's right, I pulled it off. I beat Tempest! Don't ask me how or why, it just happened. Still, I think Tempest is just as surprised as I was. I handed Tempest her first loss of the year and her first loss in five months going back to last year. The crowd didn’t like it, but I can deal with the boos just fine. I expected it. I also expected to walk out of my match with my hand raised and look what happened. There was no doubt in my mind, in their mind and in Tempest’s mind that she had a chance, not even a minuscule one. Because a woman with nothing to lose is a dangerous one.

Tempest is on the verge of losing everything: her winning streak, her aura, and in a few weeks time at Into the Void, the Bombshell Internet Championship.

One match, one win, does not a serious title contender make - and I consider myself a serious title contender - but let's not lose focus, let's get this where it needs to be. In less than two days, those fans in Troy, Turkey are in for a treat. Where else are you going to see a match between two legendary Hall of Famers, a match between two women who have cemented their place in Sin City Wrestling history? With a combined seven world titles, 22 overall championships, and an impressive 21 years experience in this company, to say this match between Crystal Zdunich and I is destined to be an epic clash of titans would be an understatement. Never let it be said that the good paying fans at every SCW event aren't thoroughly entertained.

You know, ever since I joined Sin City Wrestling, I always looked forward to mixing it up with some of the best talent this company had to offer. I like to be challenged, kept on my toes, always having one eye open to the next opponent hoping to take their best shot. I was just another plucky newcomer who had to learn on the fly and get used to things fast if I wanted to succeed, and succeed I have, many times over. Proud to say it, not afraid to admit it.

I've had my ups and downs in my career but each time I've come back stronger for it. 2024 is already a lost year for me. But for a variety of reasons, I refuse to die. Perseverance got me here; determination is what made me stay. You want to be another wrench in the works, you want to throw another obstacle in my way, have me keep jumping through hoops? Bring it. Like the Phoenix I will rise again and like the Empire I will strike back.

If you have plans for an upset this weekend, Crystal, cancel them. Better yet, crumple it up and throw it away. You're going to want to be ready for the disappointment coming your way in Turkey. If you already planned to be there, then good. You are where you are supposed to be. I’m not going to tell you not to show up. That would be insulting to you and a disservice to me because I would hate to win a match by forfeit, but it helps that the option is still there on the table.You've known me to talk the talk, but I can also walk the walk. And I'm going to walk straight through you this Sunday.

And this isn’t going to be a match, oh no. This is going to be a war, and you are going to end up as a casualty, a martyr for your cause, or a rebel for cause. Whatever. Sunday night is where you learn first-hand that while silence is golden, I'm going to make my statement loud and clear and for all the world to hear when you end up on my checklist. But you already know what that's like over the years, don't you, mamita?


“I never got the whole mythos behind Superman.”

“What's not to get? The dual identity or the million-and-one superpowers?”

“I can handle the suspension of disbelief. It's the persona that's lost on me.

[Mercedes sits across from her brother, Jorge, who is reading a classic issue from his collection and turning the pages meticulously.]

..::JORGE::..
He's nigh invincible. He isn't called the Man of Steel for nothing.”

.::MERCEDES::..
Not when it comes to Kryptonite he's not. Or magic. Or lead.

..::JORGE::..
It's just Kryptonite, Red Sun radiation, and magic now.

.::MERCEDES::..
Sure, okay. But it does make me wonder.

..::JORGE::..
You mean the whole dodging bullets, powerful than a locomotive, and leaping tall buildings deal?

.::MERCEDES::..
Supposedly, he's “faster than a speeding bullet”. Well, is he faster than 100? 500? A Gatling gun?

[Jorge stops reading now as he gives Mercedes his full attention.]

.::MERCEDES::..
So the question, then, is not so much that bullets can't hurt him, but why does he need to duck when they throw the gun? Everyone talks about about him being faster than the speed of light, but does anyone ever wonder what the speed of dark is?

..::JORGE::..
Perhaps there's more to Superman than meets the eye.

.::MERCEDES::..
No. I don't think so.

..::JORGE::..
But he's the Man of Steel...

.::MERCEDES::..
He's not living up to his promise. So bullets bounce off his chest, big deal.

[Jorge reaches across the table to feel her forehead.]

..::JORGE::..
You OK?

.::MERCEDES::..
(swatting his hand away) What? I'm fine.

..::JORGE::..
You sure? I didn't think you would go all philosophical on a comic book.

.::MERCEDES::..
It's called common sense, Jorge. Someday, you will know what that is.

..::JORGE::..
I think I'll stick with suspension of disbelief, thank you.
(changing the subject as he goes back to reading, turning another page). So you had a match against Tempest, huh? Think you stood a chance?

.::MERCEDES::..
I was dreading it. And, yeah, that's the theory, at least.

..::JORGE::..
So what do you call staring up at a nearly six-foot giant?

.::MERCEDES::..
A tall order. I'm still feeling the injuries from the last match we had. I was practically counting how many lights were in the arena or finding out how hard the canvas was. Let's just say that for a rookie coming in as a wrestler in her second match, it wasn't what I had expected.

..::JORGE::..
Trust me, I remember.

.::MERCEDES::..
For what it was worth, though, I'm surprised our rivalry lasted for so many months. It may have been three years ago, but at least I won my fair share of matches against her.

[For the second time, Jorge looks up, slowly this time as he mouths the word “damn”.]

..::JORGE::..
How the hell are you going to beat Tempest at the supercard? Five stones and a slingshot?

.::MERCEDES::..
The same way I ended up beating her the last time...

[Without a beat, Mercedes offers her brother a weakened smile.]

.::MERCEDES::..
Suspension of disbelief.


Present Day

[REC•]

[Turkey is a fascinating country with a rich history and culture, offering a plethora of sightseeing opportunities. From the majestic Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, a former Byzantine church and Ottoman mosque, to the ancient city of Ephesus, with its well-preserved ruins and impressive architecture, there's no shortage of incredible landmarks to explore. Visitors can also wander through the vibrant bazaars and markets of Istanbul, sample delicious Turkish cuisine, and marvel at the breathtaking natural beauty of the Cappadocian landscapes, featuring unique fairy chimneys and honeycombed hills

The camera peels back just a bit to find Mercedes Vargas in front of the Hagia Sophia in Instanbul, Turkey, some five hours away from Troy, where this weekend's Climax Control was taking place. Mercedes is strumming a half-tuned baglama, an instrument similar to a lute. The notes flows from the instrument as she maneuvers over the strings. As of on cue, Mercedes looks up at the camera, sets the instrument aside]

"If there's one thing I was looking forward to this weekend, it definitely was the next great inspirational speech from Crystal Zdunich. You know how those lifting words bring me to tears every time hoping to get everyone to rally behind her. Yeah, she's good at that. Oh, and also running her mouth on Twitter and jumping into everyone’s business.

"This weekend, at Climax Control 394, yours truly will finally get the opportunity to take care of a common annoyance, a common problem that's been a pain in my ass for well over a decade in Sin City Wrestling. Anyone who has followed my career know that Crystal Zdunich and I have had a rivalry that has spanned multiple promotions. This matchup gets hype every year, and yet, when has it failed to deliver? Whether on Climax Control or on a supercard, we bring out the best in each other. It doesn't get much better in terms of star-power. Everyone will be watching, as they should. Bad enough that I've been embarrassed and humiliated against Crystal in every match we've had since I arrived to SCW. And with the mood I'm in dealing with how this year has already turned to shit for me..."

[Mercedes shakes her head slowly, a solemn look on her face as she continues.]

"Crystal and I have had our problems, our own differences, and my career has suffered because of it, more so because I've never pinned Crystal's shoulders to the mat in any of our previous meetings, and that bothers me. Insanity is doing something repeatedly and expecting different results. Or, to put it another way, "If you always do what you always did, you will always get what you got." Well, yes and no. If you make the same mistakes over and over, you'll stop calling a mistake.

"Before I defeat Tempest at Into the Void and win the Bombshell Internet Championship off of her, I have to take care of Crystal, who for some strange reason has suddenly cozied up to our six-foot giantess. Gee, I wonder why. It certainly not because Crystal suddenly has Tempest's best interest at heart. But we know better, don't we? Crystal is all about playing the long game: maybe she's angling for a rematch for the Bombshell Internet Championship or maybe she's going to hire Tempest as her muscle as she plans to get another opportunity at the Bombshell Championship. Don't get me wrong, anybody with five championship reigns deserves their flowers. But a sixth reign will boost her inflated ego even more than it already is.

"Crystal, ¿crees que puedes detenerme? Me gustaría verte intentarlo. Todavía voy a pasar por la competencia y haré lo que sea necesario para volver a ser campeón. ¡ya verás! ¡Todos verán!"
"Crystal, you think you can stop me? I'd like to see you try. I'm still going to go through the competition and I'll do whatever it takes to be champion again. You'll see. You'll all see!"

"Estar preparado para lo peor, esperar lo mejor."
"Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

[Mercedes stares menacing into the camera. She lowers her voice, barely a whisper.]

"Y que la suerte está siempre en su favor."
"And may the odds be ever in your favor."

[The camera pulls back on the lasting image of Mercedes smiling as we fade to black.]

[***Fade***]

[Mercedes Vargas sat in the corner of the locker room, her head hung low and fists clenched in frustration. With a deep breath she stares at the floor, replaying each defeat in her mind, especially her latest to Erika Moore in the opening match. The disappointment weighed heavy on her shoulders, the frustration evident in the way she kicked her gym bag across the room. Her resolve was wavering, but deep down she knew this defeat would only fuel her determination to come back stronger.]

"I'm starving. What are you still doing here?"

"I'm solving world hunger. I'm packing my fucking things. What do you think I'm doing?"

[Standing by the door is Ricardo and Irma, who picked up on Mercedes' sarcastic reply. Mercedes continues shoving clothes into her suitcase, not even caring if her friends were waiting on her.]

Ricardo: I don't want to be here longer than I need to be. Could you hurry up?

[Mercedes shuts the suitcase and zips it up before standing up from a kneeling position and shoulders her overnight bag and pulls her rolling tote bag behind her.]

Irma: Another rough night?

Mercedes: You don't miss much, do? What gave it away?

[Mercedes steps towards feints a smile as she fishes through her purse and comes up with the car keys. As she is walking, Mercedes aims her car remote as two brief flashes from the headlights comes from her Porsche.]

Ricardo: Just getting your butt kicked doesn't put anyone in a good mood.

Mercedes: Well, damn, when you put it like that, then I guess I can’t argue.

[Mercedes follows her friends down the orphaned hallways. Even though her match was on the early part of the show, Mercedes stayed until the main event ended. Mercedes steps through the double doors of the arena and into the cool night air.]

Irma: Are you ok?

Mercedes: What did you say?

Irma: Are you ok? You haven't been yourself lately.

Mercedes: No no...I'm fine. I just need to decompress.

[Mercedes, Ricardo and Irma hurriedly enter into the car. Mercedes settled into the driver's seat, adjusting the position of the seat and steering wheel to her liking, Ricardo squeezed into the backseat with a sigh of relief and Irma calmly gets into the passenger seat. The car soon roared to life as they all settled in, ready for their journey ahead.]

***Fade***


Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 24 al 31 de marzo de 2024

Well, that could have gone better.

Actually, now that I think about it, that could have gone much worse.

Another match and yet again I couldn't get the job done. This doesn't make the realization any better, not to mention my mood lately. To be known as someone who can talk the talk, who always come up short, who is always so close and yet so far gets irritating after awhile and people start to lose faith in you that you'll never anount to anything. I'm starting to even question that myself though my foolish pride or ego refuses to let me dwell in on those fears. I'm a two-time Hall of Famer, a two-time Bombshell Champion, the most decorated champion of all time. I've beaten countless Bombshells, past and present, and while 2024 has gotten off to a rocky start, hope springs eternal and it will only be a matter of time, a matter of when, not if, and a matter of who I'll have to go through to get another title opportunity.

And what about Erika Moore? Did she leave an impression on me? She did. I'll give credit where credit is due Now, depending on who you ask, some say her win list week was plain dumb luck. Not to say that she's dumb, or that she won by luck. Others may see that she were there at the right time and place. What do I say? She's still undefeated in only her second match here. Good for her. I hope she enjoys these next three weeks, because I'm telling you now, going against Ariana Angelos at the go-home show and Krystal Wolfe at Blaze of Glory, you know they're bringing their A-game, they're bringing everything they got.

But let's bring this back to where it should be. Now, I know that come the next Climax Control, I'll be in Phoenix, Arizona. I love Phoenix. It's a bit more casual and laid back than other major cities, everything is more approachable than you might expect. They have great Mexican food. There are so many different things you can see and experience. It's hard to be bored. I can do without the triple digit temps, though.

Another reason why I Iove Phoenix? I've lost only once here, at Blaze of Glory. I lost the Bombshell Roulette Championship to Jessie Salco in 2016 and that April day still haunts me. It's a repressed memory.

This year's trip, should be fun. Almost as fun as my match against my next opponent, Georgie Robertson. The current Golden Briefcase holder who hasn't exactly been setting the world on fire. Last week, though? She took out Julianna DiMaria, Bobbie Dahl and Tempest - the top three Bombshell singles champions in the company, the only other undefeated women on the roster in 2024 - in one fell swoop in the main event. The Georgie Robertson I saw last week was a few fries short of a Happy Meal, mentally unstable, an evil, sick, twisted, demented heartless bitch, if I may. If what she did last show wasn't making a statement, I don't know what is.

I also learned Georgie will be at Blaze of Glory. But before she has her triple threat match against Ariana Angelos and Seleana Zdunich at Blaze of Glory, Georgie has a date with me, and I don't think she's going to like this date very much. In fact, I'll make sure of it. I get to put my hands on the girl who tried to make a statement at my expense. And you know what happens when someone makes an example out of me? It lights a fire under me.

So, Georgie, I'm going to leave you with a little word of advice: Don't come looking for me, because I'm waiting for you. Revenge is an act of passion, vengeance is an act of justice. This time, I'm ready for you, mamita. And it's going to be a little bit different than our last meeting because there will be nowhere to run, and no one to help you. When that bell rings, your ass is mine, little girl. Your ass is mine.

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And may the odds be ever in your favor.


[The scene opens on light traffic. Taxis and buses are a blur bypassing a number of neon and LED signs. Carmen seems to be waiting for someone. The camera shifts to one section of the crowd as people start turning around. Mercedes swarms through the crowd and her cousin turns around at the sound of her voice.]

Carmen: I was wondering where you went off to.

Mercedes: Sorry, had to stop to pick up something. So, what did I miss?

Carmen: Well, other than Taylor Swift and that Korean rapper everyone's talking about?

Mercedes: Psy? Gangnam Style?

Carmen: Yeah, that. Not much. You brought grapes. Why?

Mercedes: It's tradition.

Carmen: I don't know if anyone told you this, but we're not in Spain.

Mercedes: I know. I was just hungry.

[Mercedes reaches into her trenchcoat and pulls out the folded piece of paper that was her accomplishments. Carmen pauses from checking something she received on her cellphone.]

Carmen: What's that?

Mercedes: Just my goals for 2024, which I never was able to accomplish.

Carmen: Well, I wouldn't say that.

[Before she knew it, Carmen already had the list in her hand, reading it aloud.]

Carmen: Defeat Bobbie Dahl. Win Bombshell Championship. Audition for host for American Idol?

Mercedes: Well, a girl can dream, right?

Carmen: I don't know about American Idol, but at least you're not selling yourself short like you always do.

[Mercedes snatches the paper away from Carmen, clearly offended.]

Mercedes: I'm always coming up short, but thanks for your concern.While people like Bobbie Williams and Julianna are enjoying their careers, it seems as if mine is at a standstill. My supposed “comeback”, has been anything but these last few years.

Carmen: So what if you weren't able to accomplish everything on your 'to do list, Merce, there's always next year.

Mercedes: Thank you Little Miss Sunshine. Next year can't come soon enough.


Micheltorena Stairs
L O S A N G E L E S, C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[Mercedes Vargas pursed her lips together and applies another coat of lipstick. A deep dark shade of red, the perfect complement to her personality – passion, energy, enthusiasm. But not so much these days. Especially these days. The camera peels back just a bit to show us that the SCW Hall of Famer is sat on a flight of stairs that made up the Micheltorena Stairs. The iconic landmark made famous by its bold red hearts and colorful steps, all 177 of them, in fact.]

“Looks like today is shaping up to be another beautiful day.”

[Mercedes turns and speaks directly to the camera, though she has a surprised expression on her face.]

"Is it just me, or is it fair to say that Georgie Robertson has now become the most hated person in SCW? She's got charisma, she's got style, she can outwrestle just about anyone on the roster. Oh, and did you see how she beat the breaks off of Seleana Zdunich last week? Oh my God."

[She pauses for a moment.]

"What am I saying? Georgie Robertson didn't win last week. Mattter of fact, she got embarrassed by someone who hadn't won a match on Climax Control in well over a year and hadn't won in SCW since late November. I bet she's not too happy about that.

"Well, Georgie. Here we are again. Just another random Bombshells match on Climax Control. After a while they start to feel the same. I beat you, it means nothing. You beat me, it adds another defeat to my record. At least you got booked again this week, at least you notch another victory, at least you build a little momentum on your ongoing mission to get another shot at any championship your heart desires so long as you hold that briefcase. Quite a charmed life. And I know Georgie, I know. You're just chompin' at the bit, because, hey, you've got yourself an easy win this weekend against Mercedes Vargas. And why not? You've already beaten me once so far, and I'm starting to think you enjoy these encounters so much that perhaps you'll convince Christian Underwood to have you booked against me every weekend.

"As you get ready for your promo, it's no secret you'll set aside your special time to humiliate me and tell anyone who would listen that it would have been better if I had forfeit our match. If I was a mind reader, you're probably thinking to yourself, 'Yeah, I've got this. It's only Mercedes Vargas, after all. No charisma, no personality, and perhaps the biggest waste of space on the roster. What's the worse that can happen?'

"Let's face it, 2024 has to be the worst year I've had since I debuted in SCW. I've had zero wins in five matches so far and it's certainly something I'm not readily to admit nor am I happy about. But make no mistake about it, Georgie. I'm not some newcomer. I'm not Addisyn Starr or Cynthia Warren. You know that I'm going into our match Sunday and keep up with you from the opening bell until the very end. Competition makes me stronger...and I like to think I play to my strengths.

"Look, Georgie, if you didn't get anything out of my rambling musings, I just want you to know that you are so much better than this, and you can do much better than this.

"What is the worst thing that could happen Forfeiting the match? Lying down so you can get the easy pin on me? No, that's not it. How about getting embarrassed by yours truly? Don't think so? Let's see if lightning strikes again this Sunday, hmm?"

***Fade***

Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 3 al 10 de marzo de 2024

OK, so things didn't exactly go as planned or as I would have liked at My Bloody Valentine and while I'm a little disappointed, everything happens for a reason, and I'm really starting to believe that. See, it would be easy to say how Bella Madison got lucky, how Bella Madison was the better woman that night, how Bella Madison deserved the win in the elimination chamber match. It would be real easy to say that. Am I saying Bella Madison is better than me? Well, let's not get too carried away here. By no means did I say I was perfect. Everyone has a bad night once in a while, whether you're the most decorated wrestler in the entire company, or someone who is stringing a few wins together. My Bloody Valentine was only a hiccup, a step back. I'll even go on to say it was a setback. It's not the end of the world. Time to dust myself off and get ready to fight another day. I've been dreaming about my next opportunity to right the ship and get that elusive win. Come Sunday, I'm about to show the world why Mercedes Vargas is that...damn...good.

The blurb written about my match had it just about right, but how many people are probably saying that the interactive poll to find Tempest's first challenger was rigged, or that I deserved to be in the running for a potential challenger? Nevermind that Seleana Zdunich somehow found her way into this triple threat because the two fans she has still think she's championship material, but I don't book the matches, so I can't say it's my problem. But you know something? Maybe they're right. They're absolutely right. I don't belong here. I don't belong in this match, and if I had my way, I don't deserve this title match.

I deserve the title.

Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. Let's bring this to where it should be. For those of you who missed out on My Bloody Valentine, the pay-per-view certainly lived up to the name. There were high stakes to be wagered, they were feuds to be ended and grudges to be settled, there were titles that were won and lost. You missed out on a pretty good four-way match between Courtney Pierce, Tempest, Luna Pasilno, and Krystal Wolfe. Can't say I didn't expect a title change happening, but that's exactly what happened. That it was Tempest who pinned the champion that night to claim her first singles title, I guess she'll take it. I was taught never to kick a person when they're down, but I never understood why Courtney wasn't particularly liked, whether she was world champion or Bombshell Internet champion. I could have swore I heard a choir singing the Hallelujah Chorus when her reign ended. So sad.

Anyway, Crystal Zdunich awaits the winner at Blaze of Glory whoever walks out of Climax Control with the Bombshell Internet Championship, so there's some pretty big stakes in this match. They say pressure makes diamonds, and that's mostly true. And nobody knows about thriving under pressure or has the uncanny ability for delivering in the clutch than yours truly. I'm not thinking about the bright lights or the thousands of fans in the audience ... The opportunity is there for the taking, so I am fully prepared to see it through. I will make history Sunday.

So what sets me apart from the other two talented women in this match? Resilience. I couldn't care less about Tempest trying to extend her reign because come Sunday, she's going to be in for a rude awakening. Tempest is going to learn the difference between fantasy and reality. The fantasy is she's thinks she's going to hold on to that title another day; the reality is she's leaving Santa Barbara empty handed.

When Seleana Zdunich came to Sin City Wrestling, I don't think anyone thought she would be anything special but throughout that time, throughout her first few months in the company, she was known for being, well, an underachiever. Sure, she became a Bombshell World Champion and she had that run with the Bombshell Roulette Championship, but how many people even remember her reigns aside from the fact that her wife was responsible for those reigns? A fluke world title reign, a Bombshell Roulette reign from three years ago. Seleana has been floundering around the women's division ever since her fifteen minutes of fame with the Bombshell Roulette Championship was over. I bet Seleana is happy about this opportunity. Well, she should be. I know how much this match means to her. Here's her chance to claim the only singles title she has yet to capture in her career, to finally make history. She want this match so bad, she can almost see herself holding up that championship for all to see. That begs the question, does anybody want to see Seleana and Crystal fight for the Bombshell Internet Championship? No? I didn't think so. It's hard to believe this is somebody trying to live to her family lineage and also just so happens to be married to someone who has effortly got her over in SCW, because it's certainly not because she puts on great matches. Me sorprende. It blows my mind.

If anything, Seleana should be lucky to be where she is because in any other company, chances are she wouldn't even be near world championship contention. That seems like it should never have to be said, doesn't make it any less true. I'm sorry that I'm unable to mince words, it's part of my DNA. We love telling lies, but when the truth comes out, it stings a little, doesn't it? The truth tends to stir emotions. The truth causes people to shift around in their seat, it makes their skin crawl. And I know that everytime you're in that ring, that's the verbal responses you get. It's the same reactions you're probably experiencing right now because I will tell nothing but the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.

This rivalry between Tempest and I have been going on for five years. And for most of that time, I've never had decisively beat her. Singles, tag, multi-woman, it didn't matter. She's had my number in Sin City Wrestling, something I'm not too happy to accept or admit. This is Tempest's maiden defense. Seems to me her luck is about to run out. This Cinderella story was great while it lasted. She might as well get on with making it the best one yet with the few days she has left as champion. Let's face it, Tempest doesn't know what a being singles champion is like. She's been lucky to hang around a few, but she's just a fish out of water. I couldn't care less if what she thinks of my opportunity to adding one more championship to my trophy case and rewriting the record books one more time. If she wants to prevent that, then she knows exactly what to do.

Stop me.

Win at all cost.

Do whatever is necessary in preventing me from having my hand raised as a 15-time champion in SCW and a future two-time Bombshell Internet Champion as if her life depended on it, because it does.

Mercedes Vargas: Bombshell Internet Champion. You know, it does has a nice ring to it. This Sunday, I have a chance to take the next step and claim a championship I haven't held in eight years.

Good things come to those who wait. I've been waiting for too long.


[Carmen and Mercedes are on the side of the street at a fruit stand/market.]

..:: CARMEN::..
You look tired. Rough night?

.::MERCEDES::..
Sometimes I wake up grumpy. Other times I wake up like this.

..:: CARMEN::..
It's a new look for you.

.::MERCEDES::..
If I tried to look as attractive as all of the celebrities I like, I'd end up looking about as ugly as I am.

..:: CARMEN::..
Judgemental much?

[Mecedes stops reading now as she gives Carmen her full attention.]

.::MERCEDES::..
Judgemental, how would you know?

..:: CARMEN::..
I don't really need a hairstylist since my pillow gives me a new hairstyle every morning.

[Carmen reaches across to Mercedes to feel her forehead.]

..:: CARMEN::..
You OK?

.::MERCEDES::..
(swatting her hand away) What? I'm fine. A few bumps and bruises, maybe a mild concussion, and I think I still have a few pieces of my ego lying around here someplace from my last match. Nothing serious, really.

[A man on the street recognizes Carmen. He is disheveled in appearance, but not ragged.]

Man: Hey, Carmen.

..::CARMEN::..
That's Officer Reyes to you, Irvin.

..:: IRVIN::..
 Yeah. Where are my manners? Listen, I'm really...

..:: CARMEN::..
Whatever you're going to ask, the answer is No.

.::MERCEDES::..
That was rude. At least hear what he has to say. Damn.

..:: IRVIN::..
I'm in deep right now, Officer. I’m trying to make my rent.

.::MERCEDES::..
It’s funny how the cost of living is going up but the chance of living is going down.

..:: CARMEN::..
My compassion for people knows no bounds, so it’s gotten me in trouble. I know times are tough, Irvin, but sadly, you’re not the only one.

.::MERCEDES::..
What do you do?

..:: IRVIN::..
Retail. Things have gone downhill with my business. Commission isn't cutting it and I’m left with crumbs. The bills are high and the dollars are few. 

.::MERCEDES::..
That's terrible and I feel your pain.

.:: IRVIN::..
Why does it sound sarcastic?

.::MERCEDES::..
It's not. Just take my advice because I’m not going to use it.

[Carmen turns to Mercedes, floored. Without a beat, Mercedes offers her cousin a weakened smile.]

..:: CARMEN::..
I'm going home.


Present Day • Tongva Park
S A N T A M O N I C A, C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[The camera peels back just a bit to show us that the SCW Hall of Famer Mercedes Vargas is at an overview deck at Tongva Park, watching the usual fare of visitors below — kids strolling along happily, folks riding bikes and playing chess, skateboarders trying out the soft-surface of the kiddie park. As of on cue, Mercedes looks up from her folded hands to the camera.]

"So, finally back after another supercard, and not a moment too soon. It's been three weeks since My Bloody Valentine and while I'm thankful for a little R&R, I'm sure most of us who was featured on the first supercard of the year are still trying to get  into the swing of things. The jetlag is real.

"This weekend, I happen to find myself in a triple threat match for the prestigious Bombshell Internet Championship against two opponents that I share a lot of history with and while I hate to say this, familiarity breeds contempt. Over to my left, you have the brand new Bombshell Internet Champion, Tempest, who, while overconfident in her interview with Rocky Mountains this past Climax Control, already claims that she her upcoming title defense well in hand, although she's held the title she now holds for a cup of coffee. Then over to my right, we have "The Cat" Seleana Zdunich, someone who has and continues to be a pain in my neck as she's seemingly has my number over the years. So what can I expect to hear from Seleana? That I don't have a title? Well, I don't see one around her waist either. That it's been two years since my last SCW title reign when I became the first-ever two-time World Mixed Tag Team Champion at Violent Conduct? I'm proud of the fact that I'm not a thirsty title-hungry bitch like her wife. Is it the stats? I like doing my homework."

[Mercedes holds up her hands in reservation.]

"Now, I have long given up on asking why good things happen to those who are just at the right place at the right time, but it is what it is. Tempest has finally reached the promise land with her first ever singles championship, so let's give her her flowers. Good on her."

[Mercedes pauses as she sweeps back her hair from her face.]

"To be fair to Seleana Zdunich - not really sure why I would, but I’m feeling charitable - it's not that she's a capable wrestler in her own right, it's not that I'm looking past her, but even if I gave her the benefit of the doubt, more than likely all she does is prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she doesn't belong in this title match. I do legitimately feel for her.  And I get it, she wants this to be the big comeback, where she gets up from a very tough six months of lossss. It’s cute, it is.

"Determined, hungry, eager for an opportunity. Seleana gets it here, but I think we both know she is not walking out Bombshell Internet Champion. At Climax Control 387, I'll risk it all to win it all and I'm not heading to Santa Barbara just to lose. Even past my prime, I'm capable of beating any girl on any show in any match at any given time. I'm doing more, saying less. Working hard, playing less. I set the bar that few will ever reach, if they even get that far."

[Looking deadset into the camera lens, her voice drops to a whisper though her words hold conviction behind them. She pauses, mostly for dramatic effect.]

"You know, in the weeks leading up to that battle royal last year at CC 375 back in October, I couldn't help but remember the words Tempest said about our match and, to a lesser extent, me. To hear her tell it, she says I have only on my past to rely on. Well, I'm proud of my past, Tempest. Are you proud of yours, hmm? Are you proud that it took you three years to win your first singles championship. I could just as easily rest on my laurels and simply get by on reputation alone. I'm proud to have an ego and even more proud that I'm the only 14-time champion in history, which I think is a lot more than you have right now.

"No matter what you do, what you say or where you stand, you have never been, and likely never will be, the level of in-ring performer that I am and you will never make the history I have made or will never be as great as me. Period. Full stop. End of story."

[She wears a pained expression and really milks this reaction as her lips pouts while holding a hand to her heart. Maybe sheds a tear or two in there.]

"Since I came to SCW, a lot of people have said they would be the next big thing and turn the company on its head. Rookies, veterans, young, old, upcomers, legends, champions. They're all gone, and I'm still here. A lot of people have tried to put me down, take me out. They're all gone, and I'm still here. A lot of people said that I was all hype and that I wasn't going to last, that I didn't have what it takes to make it here, but you know something? With success comes resentment. Maybe people are writing me off this weekend, maybe people are hoping against hope that your magical run continues past this show. This isn't the first time I've been overlooked in title matches and probably won't be the last. I've learned to get over it. I'm used to the haters and people hung up on my accomplishments and records. I've said this once and I'll say it again. If anything, my records should strive people to be better, not bitter.

"As someone who's been doing this for over a decade, I've got thick skin, mamita. In this business, you kind of have to or you won't survive very long. It's mind over matter and it can be soul-crushing if you allow it to be. It hasn’t stopped me from being the bonafide star I've become, whether some folks feel I'm overrated and undeserving or, well, entitled. I'm living the career most Bombshells only WISHED they had. Proud of it, not ashamed to say it. I've made a name for myself. I've proven that I'm an easy win for nobody and accomplished a lot in so little time. Don't you dare come at me arguing that my ego is how I got to where I am today or trying to reach for low hanging fruit by saying I'm over hyped for my own good."

[Mercedes maintains a calm demeanor in her voice, but you can see the seriousness on her face as well.]

"Blaze of Glory is in 37 days. I'm sure Mark Ward and Christian Underwood will find something for Tempest and Seleana to do, even if it's serving those hungry fans at catering. I'm one match away from becoming a two-time Bombshell Internet Champion and making history one more time. I'm so close to claiming a championship that I haven't held in a long time. I'm not about to phone it in or let anyone believe I'm irrelevant because I'm not holding a briefcase much less a championship, despite what they might say. It was never between me and them anyway.

"They're all gone, but I'm still here."

[Mercedes points at herself.]

"The Mercedes Vargas that was the last woman standing in the first ever Queen for a Day match in SCW. The Mercedes Vargas that went unpinned in her first ten months on the roster, then in singles for a further fourteen months. The Mercedes Vargas that won four titles in a single year alone. The Mercedes Vargas that has made the record book her autobiography. The Mercedes Vargas that has reached milestones, shattered records, and made every woman's life a living hell for over a decade. Is it any wonder why I'm the only surviving member that debuted in 2013? At what point does it stop becoming a surprise when I make history?

"I'm looking forward to giving Tempest the fight of her life and I'll make sure that her first defense will be her last. I can't wait for Climax Control when she's in front of her fans so they can witness for themselves how miserable her life is going to be at the end of the night when she's staring up at the lights and watching me leave the NEW Bombshell Internet Champion.

"The question isn't who's going to let me, it's who's going to stop me?"

[***Fade***]

For well over a decade, Sin City Wrestling has been home to some of the most successful and most memorable legends in history. A who's who of talent that only the most diehard fans can recite from memory. Over time, though, these names have gone on to be celebrated in lore as the best of the best in their craft. Some have gone on to cement their place in the Hall of Fame, others have taken their talents to other promotions on the precipice of SCW providing wrestling on a national and worldwide platform. 

The talent in the SCW women's division runs deep. The memories you cherished, the names you remembered. Over the years, in a dizzying turn of events, they were drifting away.  A laundry list of all-time-great gems. Amber Ryan. Mikah. Roxi Johnson. Crystal Zdunich.

The Red Hurricane accomplished what she set out to do in less than three years, with a Hall of Fame induction to boot. The Bombshell everyone loved to hate has since traded in her wrestling boots for sand, surf, sun and enjoying mojitos in Maui these days. SCW's resident Superhero, perhaps one of the greatest in company history, was taking a part-time role after logging in by far one of the longest-active streaks of service. The Rose Queen, c exertainly the greatest in SCW history, has had championship reigns longer than her retirements. Now here she was for another run.

In another world, perhaps there was someone else waiting for their name to get called, the next legend who has defined the Bombshells Division and an era to suddenly get her flowers. Here in SCW, it was hard not to look at who would get that seal of approval and, in that wealth of talented grapplers, let the mind wander to Bombshell Mercedes Vargas and just wonder how much long she'll be a Bombshell.

She checked all the boxes. All-time great? Check. Perhaps the best to ever do it? Check. An ridiculous number of titles and accomplishments to rival her contemporaries? Check? At an age older than her most celebrated rivals —  Check, check, check.

But yet as sure as they were several things that separated Mercedes' career from that of the Ryans and Mikah' and the Johnsons and the Zdunichs of the world, thee were other intangible which made her status wholly different.

Mercedes' legacy remains firmly intact — as does the reputation becoming of her status in the company that, whether said aloud or in silence by the lockerroom, gave her a lot more leeway than most.

Some of this is because Mercedes' perceived excellence isn't just an SCW story. Her time even before she graced the shores of SCW many moons ago only added to it. Experience matters, even for people like Mercedes.

Over her SCW tenure, or at least through her many championships, Mercedes already had it made. That some of the Bombshells she competed in the ring have long since retired or found work elsewhere, it's a testament how she survived this long.  Some Bombshells are spending their golden years in Hawaii. Some, like Mercedes, seem to prefer staying in the ring that's defined her career, the 11 years of it.

Mercedes was not Amber, or Mikah, or Roxi or Crystal. She was not any of the Golden Age Bombshelks like Misty or Vixen. Mercedes' bad yesrs doesn't matter, because, like every new year, there's a sense of hope. Forget her ein-loss record or lack of title wins. All in all, hope springs eternal. And with that Mercedes finding winning again.

The possibilities are endless. She's tasted true success before and there was no reason why she couldn't do it again.


Present Day ♦ S A N T A M O N I C A, C A L I F O R N I A

[REC•]

[A gym. Several training equipment of all sorts surround the facility, from the modern to the highly advanced. In the center of the white-washed and wood tiled room is a wrestling/boxing ring.]

[The gym is practically empty, although it’s late in the afternoon. However, one person is actually getting a workout today, and that person happens to be none other than Mercedes Vargas. Today she is wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts. She is running the ropes as three girls, all of medium stature and height stand around watching.]

[Mercedes bounces off the ropes one last time before putting on the breaks as she turns to the girls.]

"Now THAT is how you run those ropes, people! Alright, let’s see how you do with chain wrestling. Who’s first?

[Lydia, a brunette wearing glasses raises her hand. Mercedes smiles as the bespectacled girl removes her glasses and hand it to the girl on her right. They stay at a safe distance as she and Mercedes circle each other before locking up.]

[Mercedes allows Lydia to get her into a wrist lock, but quickly overtakes her with one of her own and wrenching her arm behind the girl’s back.]

"Not bad, for a rookie…"

Without much effort, Mercedes sends the girl on her back with a modest over the shoulder judo throw, but holds up on the arm as she wrenches it apart.]

"...but surely you can do better."

[Mercedes looks at the camera for the first time now as a smile comes across her face.]

"When you’ve been in Sin City Wrestling for as long as I have you don’t think about losing; when you’ve had the success that I have had, you don’t think about losing. When you know that you've actually made it, you don't think about losing. Now, granted, I’ve had more failures than I have had successes the last few years, there is no hiding that, but in my failures I have learned, and I have been driven, and I have figured out how to be on top in SCW. And whenever, say, Climax Control or pay-per-view, I give it my all, give everything I have, and I still lose, it teaches me something about not only my opponent but about myself."

[Mercedes releases the hold as Lydia is helped up by the Hall of Famer and the second girl, Aisha, comes at her.]

"This Sunday, I could potentially make history and walk out of the second Climax Control event of the new year a five-time Bombshell Roulette Champion, but not only has history not been kind to me in title matches but I'm pretty sure I'll have my work cut for me against the champion Bobbie Dahl and fellow contender Seleana Zdunich. Names I know, abilities I can match and exceed.

“Last year, I lost every title match I took part in. The last one hurt the most. I did the damn thing. I didn’t defeat Julianna, nor did anyone thought I truly put the champ in jeopardy. But I made Jules work for the W. Most Julianna matches are foregone conclusions. That’s partially based on how she's been dominant on her part and the lack of real challengers in the women’s division. It’s different with me; I'm established and can talk the talk and walk the walk. If anything, it’s a victory that Julianna didn’t run through me easily or even at all."

[Mercedes sends Aisha across the ropes and sets her up for a crippling tilt-a-whirl backbreaker followed by a neckbreaker. Obviously, the Double Jeopardy combo.]

"Now, it’s bigger than ever. Different title, different champion, same goal. Because if I don’t succeed, if I don’t win Sunday, then that’s it. Back of the line for me. And who knows? If I don’t beat Bobbie then who will? Who will stop her? The stakes are if I lose I never get to challenge Bobbie for the Bombshell Roulette Championship ever again. That is a title that I have made famous ever since I joined the roster. Almost every Bombshell Hall of Famer have held that title. I have held that title four different times and was the first woman to do that, one more and I am tied for the most, 295 more days and I have held that title the most. And my rivals, the legacy of that championship, means so much. Before Samantha Marlowe became a thing, I was the reason why the Bombshell Roulette Championship became the most prestigious, most relevant title in all SCW and I will continue to make sure that it is the most prestigious and relevant title in all of SCW."

[Finally, Zoe attempts a clothesline but Mercedes Matrix’s out of the way before sending the blonde with a hip toss. She comes at her again before Mercedes collars her with a sleeperhold. She applies it tighter, and Lydia and Aisha stare at Zoe as she began fading before Mercedes gently lays her opponent on the mat.]

"Now, I understand Seleana wants this as bad as I do, that's no mystery. But let’s be honest, the bigger mystery is how Seleana somehow became a part of this match because as far as I'm concerned, she's the same Bombshell who was a literal dumpster fire in 2023 and she probably thought this was a pay-per-view because she couldn't even win one match on Climax Control to save her life. Of course, I didn’t understand a damn word she said as I’m not Swedish, but I’m pretty sure she probably broke the sound barrier every time she lost. Now that her wife is back in SCW and will give her a good pep talk, maybe that Seleana gets an extra dose of motivation.  If I was her, and I’m sooooooo glad I’m NOT, I would call in sick, I would forfeit the match and let me and Bobbie fight for the title. I have a little score to settle with her, and I would love nothing more than to take that massive chip on her shoulder and the gold around her waist."

[Mercedes invites the trainees back in the ring, but the girls were too hesitant to last another round with her. Taking their leave, they all roll out of the ring, backing away towards the rear exit door. With an indifference shrug, Mercedes turns back to the camera, with her hand akimbo.]

"You saw me put on a wrestling clinic just now. Trust me, after Sunday, Bobbie and Seleana will both be in need of a real clinic after I’m through with them.

"Come Sunday, Bobbie, I am not playing. I am doing whatever it takes to bring that title around my waist home. I think it's time I remind you and Seleana why I am that damn good. It's only a matter of time before I add your names on my checklist, courtesy of yours truly, the "Argentine Assassin".

[Mercedes fluffs and straitens out her hair as she leisurely sat on the ring apron.]

"It’s been awhile since I last held the Bombshell Roulette Championship. Whether history is made, delayed, or denied won’t matter. I’ve got nothing to prove and everything to gain."

[She slowly cross her arms<, adding a condescending smirk.]

"So, then, chicadees, the question isn't who's going to let me. It's who's going to stop me."

[***Fade***]