Three Weeks Ago…
Horrible pain. The worst pain I’ve ever experienced in my life so far. That’s the only way to describe the after effects of my Last Bombshell Standing Match with Dani Weston. I knew the match was going to be physically challenging. I knew Dani was out to hurt me for what I did to her back in November, but damn I wasn’t expecting this as I was coming back to consciousness.
I could hear voices all around me. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was until I started to open my eyes and look around. I was looking up at bright lights at the medical staff checking me over in local hospital. I could see their mask covered faces; the precautions necessary during this critical time in our world. And I could even feel a mask covering my own face. A decision I’m sure was made not because I had the virus or anything, but simply to protect me as I was transferred to the hospital for further evaluation.
Doctor: Bobbie? Bobbie, do you know where you are?
It took my brain a few seconds to process that he was asking me a question. I brought my eyes to look at him and I try to nod, but I can’t. Shit, I’m in a neck brace!
Bobbie: Hospital? Judging by…all the chaos.
He lets out a chuckle and nods as he continues examining me.
Doctor: That’s right. You took a nasty fall during your match at the Sin City Wrestling event, and we need to determine the extent of your injuries. Can you tell me where it hurts the most right now?
Fantastic. This is just what I needed. I again took a few seconds to process his question. My entire body hurt, but I centered in on the pain radiating from my lower back. That is what was hurting me the most.
Bobbie: Lower...back. Is...is my neck broken?
I look at him, terrified of the answer. If my neck was broken, my wrestling career would be all but over.
Doctor: It’s a possibility there could be a fracture, but you’ve been moving your arms so there is at least no paralysis right now. We have you in a neck brace just for precaution right now, but once we clear your cervical spine, we’ll get that taken off. The pain in your lower back could signal a more severe injury there so we’ll focus on figuring out what is going on, okay?
I could feel the tears forming in my eyes. This is not how I wanted my career to end. I wanted it to end on my terms. I wanted to walk away, uninjured, with a chance to return if it is what I wanted. But this? This wasn’t good. I could feel it. But I would wait for a definitive answer.
Bobbie: Ok. The pain...is really bad though.
Doctor: The nurses are going to get you something for that soon. Don’t worry.
I couldn’t see him as he spoke. I moved my eyes, because it was all I could do, but I couldn’t find him. But then I felt his hands against my feet.
Doctor: Alright Bobbie, can you push your feet as hard against my hands as you can?
I did what I was told, or at least I tried to. As I tried to press down harder, the pain in my lower back intensified and I cried out.
Bobbie: Owww! Shit! My lower back...what the hell is wrong with my back?!
I was starting to panic, and he could sense it. He returned to stand beside me so he was in my point of view and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. I’ve never experienced back pain like that before in my life, and I hope this is only temporary.
Doctor: I’m not one hundred percent sure, Bobbie, but we’re going to run some tests to find out for sure. Initial examination leads me to believe you could have a slipped disc or two, but we won’t know for sure, or how severe, until we get an MRI. We can’t do that until tomorrow so we’ll have to admit you at least overnight, ok?
This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it? I really have no choice, though, because I can’t just get up and leave in my current condition. Not that I would even if I could, because this pain is awful!
It would take several hours before they would finally get me settled into a room for at least the night. By that time, I was three sheets to the wind doped up on some amazing pain killers that left me feeling absolutely nothing. I was resting as much as I could, given the frequent checks the nurses had to perform through the night and first thing in the morning I was being carted off to get an MRI done on my middle and lower back. My neck had already been cleared, thank God, but the pain and now occasional numbness was concerning the doctors.
It might have been the pain medicine, the anxiety medicine or a combination of both, but I don’t even remember going through the MRI. Next thing I know is I’m being woken up by the sound of my cell phone ringing. It’s placed on the tray table within arms reach and when I’m coherent enough to realize I’m not dreaming, I grab my phone. I don’t even pay attention to the screen as I answer the call.
Bobbie: H-hello?
Barbie: Bobbie! Oh, honey! I’m so glad you answered! I’ve been so worried about you!
Mom. Of course. But what time is it? I squint my eyes as I look around trying to see what time it is until I see that it’s nine in the morning. Which means it was eleven in the morning back home.
Bobbie: Heya, Ma.
I’m still out of sorts, and growing more aware of the fact the pain medication is starting to wear off. But I have to wait until a nurse or doctor comes back to get my next dose.
Barbie: How are you feeling? Your father had to practically hold me back from jumping on a plane straight there!
Bobbie: No. Don’t do that. I know you wanna be here, but it’s still not safe to travel. I’m fine. Really sore, but fine.
There was a slight pause and I knew it was because she was reading right through my lies. I was more than just sore.
Barbie: What did the doctors say?
Bobbie: Nothing yet. I had my MRI this morning, but I haven’t found out the results yet. I’m hoping soon. And I hope I can get the hell out of here soon, because I hate hospitals.
I hear her let out a sigh. She always worries about me too much, and I know it’s killing her not being at my side right now.
Barbie: You should come home as soon as you can. Judging by that fall you took, I’d say you’re going to be sore for quite some time so you can quarantine here with us.
Bobbie: I’m not coming home, Ma. No matter what the MRI shows and what the doctor’s suggest. I’m gonna get through this and get back to wrestling. Besides, Alicia is—
Barbie: You’re joking, right? Bobbie, you’re lucky you’re not paralyzed right now! Is it really worth it to put your body through all that? I know you’ve been pretty successful so far, but seeing that match and watching the hell you two put yourselves through…
I can’t help but roll my eyes. Of course she was supportive up until now- when I actually suffered a legit injury. I’m about to respond, but the doctor walks into my room.
Bobbie: Ma, I gotta call you back. The doctor is here so I’ll let you know what he says.
Barbie: No! Put me on speaker phone!
Bobbie: No I will not put you on speaker phone. I’ll call you back!
I can hear her trying to protest but I quickly end the call and put my phone on silent. The doctor walks in further, holding my chart in his hand. He pulls a stool up to my bedside.
Bobbie: Give it to me straight, doc. How bad is it?
He takes in a deep breath and lets out a sigh. Well, this can’t be good.
Doctor: Well, I’ll be honest. It’s not exactly as bad as I thought, but it’s not good news either. You’ve suffered two moderately herniated discs in your lumbar spine. Typically the best course of treatment is outpatient surgery and physical therapy afterwards—
Bobbie: Surgery?! No! Hell no! There’s gotta be something else we can try first.
I immediately panicked more at the thought of having surgery, but the doctor holds up his hand and tries to calm me down quickly before it escalates further.
Doctor: I said typically. Due to your weight, that also puts you at a higher risk for post-surgical complications, which I’m sure you’d like to avoid. So what I’m going to recommend, is intense physical therapy, but you’ll also need to take some time off from wrestling.
And there it was. The suggestion I knew was coming. But I couldn’t let it happen. I wouldn’t.
Bobbie: How much time are we talking here, doc?
Doctor: That all depends on how you respond to physical therapy, Bobbie. It’s different in every—
Bobbie: How. Much. Time.
I could tell he didn’t want to give an honest answer, but one look at my face, and he knew I wouldn’t accept anything less than the truth.
Doctor: If you want my honest opinion? I’d suggest at least six months. We could do another MRI at that time to determine how stable your back is and go from there.
My jaw drops and I start shaking my head furiously. No way was I letting this take me out of action for six months or longer.
Bobbie: Six months?! No way! There has to be something else! What..what about one of those cortisone injections or whatever? I’ve heard from people that helps.
He shakes his head. But something else had to be done. Alicia Lukas made her return last night, and I couldn’t let this sideline me. Not now.
Doctor: Honestly, Bobbie, that’s not a fix. That’s like a band-aid. It’ll help with the pain and such for a little while, but trust me when I say you’ll just end up needing more in the future.
Bobbie: So I’ll get the injection and then ramp up my physical workouts for my matches to include the physical therapy. Don’t tell me it can’t be done. Look, when I set my mind to something, I make it happen. If I go out with an injury now, people will start talking and make it seem like I’m running scared or that I did it on purpose. I just...I need to get through the next few months, and then if I need to, I’ll take some time off.
That wasn’t the complete truth either. The fact is, every time I talk about taking time off, people give me hell for it. And it’s time I just fight through it and keep going. Titles are out of the picture- for now- but there’s unfinished business with Alicia Lukas, and I’ll do what most wouldn’t. I’ll fight with an injured back if I have to. I stare at the doctor and wait for a response and he finally lets out a sigh.
Doctor: Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll schedule the injection, and then we’ll assess where you’re at in a week. If you’ve improved more than I think you will, I’ll agree to it as long as you keep up with the physical therapy. Deal?
I hold out my hand, but he doesn’t shake it. Social distancing and all.
Bobbie: Alright, that sounds like a deal enough for me.
Doctor: Ok then. I’ll get the ball rolling. A nurse should be in shortly to give you another dose of your pain medication, too. Sit tight.
I muster up as grateful a smile as I can and he stands up and heads out of my room. As soon as he is gone, I let out a pained sigh because my lower back is once again screaming at me. I attempt to adjust my position in the bed, but the spasm it causes is enough to regret that decision.
Bobbie: Please let this shit work…
I let my head fall back on the pillow and try to suffer through the pain until the nurse comes back with my pain medication. I may not know how this is all going to work out, but one thing is clear. The next few weeks are going to be long as hell…
Last Week…
I’m so ready to just collapse into the nice and comfortable king sized bed in my room of the Saxon Hotel and Suites. I had an eventful night and Climax Control, not in a match but making my presence known in another way. Before Blaze of Glory, I was convinced that Alicia Lukas wasn’t going to be making her return so soon. Her constant bitching and daily/weekly injury updates on Twitter made it seem like she was much farther off from a return than she apparently was. So I was a bit surprised when I learned she announced she was medically clear to return to the ring.
It’s no secret Alicia has been out to get me ever since I “attacked” her and put her back on the shelf for an extended period of time. I’ll address all of that when I need to, but for now, I’m focused on getting back to business myself. Everyone seems to think I’m a coward, or that I run scared from the other Bombshells. I don’t know where they got that notion, but doing what I did tonight will prove them wrong.
I officially gave Alicia her choice to face me, if that is what she wants. And to help nudge her in the right direction, I decided to piss her off a little more. I think she got the picture, but it all remains to be seen at this point. I’ll find out my answer soon enough, but all I want right now is some sleep. If I can anyway.
I’m just getting back into my room to settle in for the night. I endured yet another swab up the nostril to test for covid-19, and as crazy as it seems, I was starting to get used to the slight pain and discomfort the test caused. It still wasn’t as bad as the back pain I’ve experienced. Thankfully, that was all subsiding following the cortisone injection last week. It’s progress and that is all that matters.
As I’m getting ready to get into bed, imagine my surprise when my phone starts ringing. There is only one person I can think of who would be calling me right now, so I just answer the phone without even paying attention to the screen.
Bobbie: You must have some kind of radar that says when I’m just about to try and get some rest.
I say this thinking that it’s my mother calling, again, but boy am I wrong. It’s someone else. A certain someone else I wasn’t expecting to hear from.
Artie: Bobbie…
As quickly as I laid back in the bed, I sprang upwards again. A slight pain shot through my lower back, but I ignored it as I tried to find the words to say to Artie. Why is he calling me?
Artie: Bobbie? Are...are you still there?
Bobbie: I..uh. Yeah. I’m still here. I’m just a little surprised that you’re calling.
I hear a slight laugh. It’s his awkward laugh that he does when he’s trying to figure out what to say. Was something wrong? I mean, he had every reason to hate me.
“He’s checking on you. He thinks you’re crazy. He thinks you should have been locked away.”
He’s silent for a few moments and I look around the room, confused as I sit and wait for him to answer.
Artie: I...debated it. I almost didn’t. H-how are you?
“See. He’s checking on you. He’s looking for any reason to lock you away. You can’t trust him.”
I scratch my head for a moment and shrug my shoulders. Not that he could see either action.
Bobbie: I’m...I’m ok. Artie, why are you calling? We haven’t talked in months. I mean, you were at the hospital last month but...we didn’t talk.
Artie: I’m just...worried. Your mom told me about your back injury. And I saw the show tonight. You really should take some time off.
“They’re trying to control you, Bobbie. Don’t listen to him. He doesn’t care about you.”
Bobbie: SHUT UP!
Artie: I guess we won’t be able to have a civil conversation, then.
Shit. I wasn’t yelling at him. Or was I? God damn it, I just need to get some sleep! I let out a sigh as I grabbed at my hair.
Bobbie: I didn’t...Look, I’m sorry. I’m just...tired. My back is fine, Artie. It’s getting better every day. I’m not going to take time off so all these bitches can accuse me of avoiding a fight. You don’t need to worry. It’s not your job.
My tone was probably a little more harsh than I intended it, but I honestly couldn’t help it. I felt the tension starting to rise in me, and I knew he wasn’t going to let this go, either.
Artie: To hell with what everyone else thinks, Bobbie. Your back is injured. You can’t risk hurting it worse. And then there’s…
His voice trails off before he finishes that thought and I raise an eyebrow.
“Oh there’s more. There’s always more. He’s trying to trick you!”
Bobbie: Then there’s what? Say whatever you were going to say, Artie.
He goes silent for several moments, obvious reluctant to say what he had started to say. I’m pretty sure I already know what he was about to say, but I want to hear him say it.
Artie: Bobbie...you overdosed on sleeping pills. What do you think I was going to say?
“Seeee. He thinks you’re crazy!”
Bobbie: I’m not fucking crazy!
I don’t even know who I’m snapping at at this point, but it doesn’t matter either way. My point remains the same. I had cleared the air about that sleeping pill mishap with the doctor before I was released from the hospital. I was fine. I AM fine.
Artie: I...I didn’t say you were. But, I do think you need to take an extended break. Longer than just a few weeks that is forced on you.
Bobbie: And like you’re not trying to force this one me now, Artie?! I know what you’re trying to do! We’re not together anymore, Artie. You don’t need to worry about me. You don’t have to check up on me. It’s not your damn job, so just let me live my life!
“Good girl, Bobbie. Keep your eyes open to the truth. Only one looking out for you, is you.”
I stand up from the bed and start pacing back and forth, not sure of what else to do at this point. I can almost hear Artie thinking, and it’s making my now headache worse.
Artie: I’m not trying to tell you not to live your life, Bobbie. I’m just worried about you. We all are. You seem to be getting worse, and I really think you’ll feel a lot better if you give yourself a break.
I let out a laugh, because I know the truth. Even if he won’t admit it. He and my family have been doing nothing the last several months except trying to get me to live the way they thought I should. Do the things they expected of me. Well, no more!
Bobbie: Getting worse? What is that supposed to mean, huh? Excuse me if I’m frustrated that you people can’t just accept the fact that I’m doing whatever the hell I want with my life. If I thought I needed a break, I’d take one! I had three weeks off because of a stupid suspension, and I came back. Yeah, I hurt my back, but I’m not paralyzed. So as long as I can walk, I can live with whatever pain I’m feeling. Get over it!
Artie: You got yourself suspended, and then you overdosed on sleeping pills. Accidental or not, you took them for a reason. You’re not getting enough sleep. And as far as your back goes, you don’t think that Alicia won’t take advantage of that injury if you get a match against her?
As I continue pacing back and forth, the pain in my back starts to flare up again. But it’s not enough to get me to stop. I’m growing more and more agitated, and about five seconds away from hanging up on him. How did it get to this point? How did I go from loving Artie, to now just completely annoyed by him? All in less than a year. What was happening to my life?!
“You’re seeing the truth, Bobbie. You’re taking control away from those who are out to destroy you. That is what is happening.
Bobbie: Just...stop! Stop it, already! I’m fine! I’ll be fine! I’m not quitting! I’m not letting anyone control me! I’m not letting anyone take advantage of anything!
I’m quickly losing control and I don’t know why. I don’t understand what is happening. And I can’t seem to calm myself down. I head over to the bed and sit down, then start swaying back and forth, feeling overwhelmingly anxious.
Artie: Bobbie, just...calm down. What...what’s going on? It feels like there is more bothering you right now. This is all starting to scare me now.
Bobbie: Just leave me alone, Artie! Tell them all to leave me alone!
Before he can get another word out, I end the call. Knowing he’ll try and call me back, or my mother will attempt to call me, I shut my phone off and set on the nightstand next to the bed. I lay back in bed and curl up in a comfortable position.
“Cut them out completely, Bobbie. Protect yourself. They’ll only hurt you in the end.”
Bobbie: Leave me alone...Leave me alone...Leave me alone!
I get myself into a fetal position and pull a pillow over my head. Why won’t they all leave me alone? Why can’t I be in control of my life without everyone questioning my decisions? I’m tired. Over tired. I just need to get some sleep and I’ll feel better when I wake up. I just need sleep.
“You’ll never be alone, Bobbie. Someone will always be watching you. Spying on you. You know that.”
Bobbie: I just need sleep. Then I’ll feel better. I will. A nice long restful sleep.
I keep the pillow over my head, trying to drown out any and all noise that I can. I close my eyes and focus all my attention on drifting off to sleep. I start counting in my head, using it as a distraction to tire me out even more, and I can feel myself finally fading after a while. This is exactly what I need.
Sleep.
This past Monday...
I feel suddenly disoriented. I open my eyes and look over to the clock on the nightstand to check the time. 7:57 p.m. Well shit. I had laid down to try and get a quick nap and it felt like hours ago, but it was only about fifteen minutes ago. This insomnia business lately is no joke, but it’s becoming the norm so I am quickly getting used to it.
I’ve been booked in a match this upcoming weekend against some new chick, and it’s my first match in almost a month, so I need to be rested and mentally prepared. Physically I’m feeling better and better everyday. The cortisone injection is doing its job, and I’m doing my best to follow the stretches and physical therapy needed to keep myself able to wrestle. So far it’s working, so I don’t think there will be anything to worry about in this match this week, or my match against Alicia Lukas. If she accepts that is.
I stand up from the bed and do some stretches. I let out a yawn, still a little tired, but feeling more wide awake since opening my eyes.
“You know Alicia Lukas will accept. She wants to end your career after what you’ve done to her. But you can’t let her.
Bobbie: I won’t let her. I won’t let anyone stop me.
I let out a laugh as I lean forward, stretching out my back. I felt good. Any day that went by that I was pain free was a good day, so I’ll take it as a win.
“But you have another problem to deal with before Alicia, you know. This Myra girl is bad news. You know why they’ve booked you against her, don’t you?”
I stand up straight, and take in a deep breath. I know nothing about this Myra Rivers girl, but that never stopped me before. I roll with the punches, and if there is one thing I’ve learned about this business, is that the punches never stop coming.
Bobbie: Because they want to test her? And because they are the bosses and can do whatever they want?
“They’re not testing her, Bobbie. They’re testing you. They want to see you fail. They want you to be a joke. To be the loser that you were when you first debuted two three years ago. They don’t want you to succeed.”
I roll my eyes and look around the room for my key card. I spot it on the dresser by the TV and head over to grab it. I have the sudden urge to grab a few drinks at the poolside bar. I could use the fresh air and the time out of this room anyway.
Bobbie: Or maybe they actually want me to succeed for once? Maybe…
I slip on my shoes and grab my wallet before heading out of my room. As I head down the hall, making my way towards the pool side bar, a couple going at it in their room don’t even try to keep quiet. I don’t know whose room that is, but they are clearly enjoying themselves.
Bobbie: Quarantine sex leads to quarantine babies! Hope you wrapped it up, buddy!
I shout loud enough so they could have heard me, not caring if other people had either. Hey, if they’re being loud enough that people can hear them, they deserve to hear my response! In the words of the defunct mean girls, sorry not sorry!
“Don’t fool yourself, Bobbie. They don’t want you to succeed. This new girl is a multi-time champion. They already like her better than they’ve ever liked you. They don’t expect you to win. They want you to look bad.
After the long walk following the signs, I finally find the poolside bar. It’s the first time I’ve been here, even considering I’ve been in this hotel for over a month now. I’ve spent most of that time either in my room, walking around to stretch my legs, or in the gym for my physical therapy routine. Drinking just wasn’t on my agenda until now.
Bobbie: That’s nothing new. They’ve never had faith in me anyway. Nobody has.
I find a seat that is within a safe social distance of anyone else at the bar, waiting for the bartender to come take my order. I can feel eyes looking at me, but I don’t bother to find out who it is. But I do look around the pool area, as I’m not alone. Other SCW and SCU superstars are there, but I’m not going to say who. None of them like me anyway, so keeping to myself is the best plan for the evening.
“You know Myra hates you, too. You’ve never even met the woman before, but she’s already dreading facing you. You saw it yourself.”
Bobbie: I don’t give a shit what Myra thinks.
The bartender finally walks up to me, placing a coaster on the bar in front of me as he looks at me with an eyebrow raised.
Bartender: Did you say something?
I look up at him and shake my head.
Bobbie: Huh? No. Who would I be talking to?
He shrugs.
Bartender: You tell me. Anyway, what can I get for ya?
Bobbie: Vodka and cranberry juice. And start a tab, please.
He nods and immediately starts getting my drink ready. After a few moments, he sets the glass in front of me and takes a few steps away to start wiping another part of the bar down to clean it. I don’t take a drink right away, instead just stirring it slowly with the small straw.
“She’s watching you, ya know. Myra. She’s studying you, coming up with a plan to embarrass you. That’s what she wants, because she feels superior to you. Even though you’ve been here longer.
Bobbie: Kiss my ass.
The bartender looks in my direction again, but I pretend to not notice. I finally take a drink of my vodka and cranberry, quickly realizing why I don’t drink vodka very often. I’ll be paying for it tomorrow, that’s for sure.
“You have to stop her, you know. She’s out to get what you’ve been working so hard for, before you. She’ll get it if you don’t stop her.”
I roll my eyes and take another sip. This one goes down smoother, thankfully, and I just focus my eyes on my drink, still playing with the stir straw.
Bobbie: I don’t care about Myra. Once this match with her is done, I can focus on Alicia.
“This will set the tone for your challenge against Alicia. They want you to fail against Myra because they want you to fail against Alicia. You have to stop them. Stop all of them.
Feeling the irritation rising, I chug the rest of my vodka and cranberry and wave my hand at the bartender asking for another. He holds up his index finger, letting me know he’ll be just a second.
Bobbie: Shut up…
“You have to stop them Bobbie. They want you to fail. Don’t you see. You had no problem saying it months ago. Why can’t you admit it now? Stop. Them.”
The bartender brings over a fresh drink for me and takes the empty glass away. He gives me a strange look, but I’m too focused on my drink to care.
Bobbie: I...have to stop them?
“Yes. You have to stop them. You have to stop Myra. Stop Alicia. Mark and Christian. All of them. Stop them from embarrassing you.”
I sit there for a moment, stirring my drink and just watching the ice go around and around the glass as I repeat the words over and over in my head, and aloud.
Bobbie: Stop them. I have to stop them all. I have to stop them.
Bartender: Hey, are you alright?
I quickly look up at him, feeling my eyes narrow in annoyance. I squeeze the glass a little in my hand, but not enough to do any damage...yet.
Bobbie: I’m fine. Why?
Bartender: You seem a little...agitated. That’s all. Who are you talking to anyway?
Bobbie: I’m not agitated. And I wasn’t talking to anyone! Mind your own business and just do your damn job. Geez!
“They’re staring at you, Bobbie. They’re laughing at you and waiting for you to embarrass yourself. They’re going to use this against you.”
I feel myself start to panic as I look around me. There are a few people staring at me, but as I look at them, they quickly look away. The bartender backs up and holds his hands up defensively.
Bartender: Whoa, calm down. I meant no disrespect. Just trying to cheer you up, that’s all.
I quickly shove my stool away from the bar and stand up. I chug my second vodka and cranberry and slam the empty glass on the counter, before placing some cash next to it. It should be more than enough to cover the two drinks and a more than generous tip for Mr. Nosey Bartender.
Bobbie: I don’t need cheering up. I need for people to mind their own damn business and let a woman drink in peace!
I turn and storm away from the bar, ignoring the nosey looks from everyone in the pool area. No doubt there will be rumors started about this, but I’ll deal with them as they come. Right now, I’ll just get back to my room and enjoy the silence of isolating myself away from everyone else. I’d use the time to come up with a plan to stop Myra Rivers.
I have to stop her…
The more things change, the more they stay the same. Take, for instance the current situation we all find ourselves in with the covid-19 pandemic. The virus has forced everyone to change how they go about their daily lives, and not one person can say they know how long this will last. It’s all just...unknown. Millions of people are without jobs, and are struggling to even feed their families and keep roofs over their heads now.
But Sin City Wrestling is pressing forward, under strict changes to keep everyone safe. Like the isolation in the Saxon Hotel and Suites. With the exception of two so called heroes within the company, who jet back and forth from Las Vegas to home, and possibly others I’m not aware of, most everyone in SCW, SCU and GRIME are all staying in the hotel until further notice. Getting tested regularly and minding all necessary precautions to avoid any of us, or our loved ones, getting sick.
Mark Ward and Christian Underwood are doing everything and anything they can to make the shows as “normal” as possible, under the circumstances. The audiences now consist of just those of us employed by SCW, SCU and GRIME and to be honest, I think I like that better. No need to really worry about the annoying fans picking and choosing who they want to cheer for. Sure, depending on who is in the audience at the time, that could still happen, but for the most part, we all cheer for each other.
Aside from all of that, everything has been pretty “normal.” Same matches. Same possible opponents. Same random booking week in and week out, am I right? Oh c’mon, don’t try to tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about!
One week, Roxi Johnson is facing Alicia Lukas in the main event. Because they’re both former World Champions and sooo amazing, so why not book them against each other, yeah? Then what happens? Roxi Johnson is booked against Kate Steele with the Internet Championship on the line. And Kate’s husband, Teddy the freak, gets his own random Internet title shot! Color me really damn confused, but eh...neither of those matches affects me, so why should I give a shit, right?
You know what DOES affect me, though? My match this week. Against the new chick, Myra Rivers. Me, a seasoned SCW Bombshell, going up against a newcomer to SCW in only her second match. Ummm...what the hell? Why?!
Oh, I’ll tell you why. Because Mark Ward and Christian Underwood like to throw us a curveball every now and then! Ain’t that right Marky and Chrissy? I know what ya’ll are trying to do and that shit won’t work.
Myra fucking Rivers. A multi-time champion in her own right. A regular BFD- big fucking deal- in the past promotions she has worked for so naturally when she steps foot in SCW, she’s just gotta be talked about like she’s the next big thing. It all sounds so damn familiar to me- kinda like when Andrea Hernandez first appeared- but this time only with a little more hoopla around her name.
Look, I don’t care what Myra has done in any other company she’s worked for. That shit is irrelevant, because she’s stepping into SCW now. She’s starting over. She’s starting from scratch and I’m not about to let someone at the bottom of the food chain outshine me and defeat me. It just ain’t gonna happen.
I’ve been around longer. Sure I’ve had my ups and downs. I’ve won some. I’ve lost some. I’ve had failed title opportunities, and right now, I’ve got bigger fish to fry than Myra fucking Rivers, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to sit back and take this match lightly just because I know next to nothing about Myra. It’s because I have bigger fish to fry that I’m determined to win this one.
A little birdie whispered in my ear recently “don’t take her lightly.” As if I was planning on it in the first place? As soon as I saw the match announcement, I knew what Mark and Christian were trying to do with this. They’re wanting to trip me up. They’re trying to put Myra over me because I’m so focused on Alicia Lukas, that they thought I wouldn’t notice. What if this girl beats me? What does that mean for her?
Oooh, a title opportunity in the near future, no doubt! I’ve seen it before. New chick comes in. Gets a match against a seasoned veteran. Beats seasoned veteran. The come the talks of title opportunities in the near future. As I said earlier, same shit, different day!
Do you think I’m gonna let that happen this time? Do you think I’m just going to let some new girl come waltzing into Sin City Wrestling and just let her steal away all of the momentum that I’ve built and the momentum I’m continuing the build just because I want to break Alicia’s shoulder, again?! Hell no! I’m done letting bitches like this embarrass me!
So I’m going to destroy Myra and send a message to Mark and Christian that their little plan...failed. I know they hate me. I know they don’t want to see me as the World Bombshell Champion, or any champion for that matter. So I’m going to start destroying each and every one of their favorites until they realize, they better see what me as champion could do for their company.
And Myra- you better stand back, honey, because SCW isn’t like your other promotions. You’ll come to learn that real quick. As soon as you step into the ring with me, in fact. But, I’m sure you already have some sense of what is coming, right? I mean, you must because you already referred to me as the “whiner that no one likes” on Twitter. Oh, yes. I saw that, despite the fact you couldn’t even be bothered to tag me in it.
That’s alright, though. Your opinion of me doesn’t even matter. I did a little bit of research on you, though. Just to prepare. And you know what I found? Nothing that seemed overly impressive to me. In fact, ya seem kinda boring, but hey, I’m not gonna treat you any different than any other opponent I’ve had. I enjoy hurting bitches like you for a living and you just happen to be the lucky one I plan to use as a big message to Alicia Lukas.
Don’t worry, though. What I do to you won’t be nearly as bad as what I’m going to do to Alicia when I finally get her in the ring one-on-one. But I want her to know that everything she’s said about me is a bunch of bullshit. I want her to see the look on your face as I beat you to the ground, and look at the aftermath when I drop you with a Bobbie Bomb.
I’ve got nothing against you personally, Myra. You can honestly thank Mark and Christian for what I’m going to do to you. Hell you could even thank Alicia, I suppose. Sin City Wrestling is a whole different world. After I’m through with you, you’ll be wishing you had stayed in the last company you came from. Maybe if you’re lucky they’ll welcome you back with open arms.
If not? Well...I guess your up shit creek without a paddle, honey! See you on Sunday!
