“It’s good to see you again Sean. Though the circumstances have changed, the situation before us is another unenviable one. Last time we met, I’d run a full gauntlet of people, and I came up just short. I’d just experienced the death of my best friend, and I was half a step too slow. Blinded by anger, rage and frustration. That’s the story of our past. Success for you, at the fault of my own bad luck and short-sightedness. This time, the reality is one of questioning. The same question that has been posed to me, to Luna, this entire tournament. What happens if we end up on opposite sides? What schemes and plans do The Conspiracy have?”
“To tell you the truth, Sean? I don’t know. I don’t know what will happen from here. I don’t know what Luna and I will discuss, what we will say. The truth of it is? People have been asking the right questions, even if they were assuming the wrong answers. Luna and I? Equals. In everything we do, in everything we say. We are equals. I’ve never had to prove myself independent of her, but she has been hounded since day dot. Accused of being my hanger on. Accused of riding my spotlight. Accused of being the lesser. The opposite side has been people questioning my own marriage. Questioning how I ‘benefit’ from this marriage. It’s an interesting little dichotomy we’ve got going on here.”
“Nothing I have ever done has been to use my wife to my benefit. In the same way, no action she has ever taken has been at my demand. We work because we know each other. We’ve always known each other. Since we were kids. Since we were forming. My first love. The first to break my heart. The first to show me the pain of the world in a way that only someone who truly loves you can hurt you. Reality, Sean? This is a test that we have not had in a long time. For in our equality, our years of understanding. I know this for sure. There is only one person in this world who wants to prove themselves more than me, and that is Luna. So for a moment, you can breathe. For a moment, the doubters of the world can go and shove their own arrogance straight back inside their vitriolic spewing mouths.”
“You, Sean. You however do not get that reprieve. You do not get to breathe a sigh of relief that there is no doubt in your partner. There is not a moment you get to take to think to yourself. There is not a moment you get to spend in momentary bliss. No, you don’t get to do that, because there is a far worse inevitability in front of you. There is one truth here in Sin City. One truth that the mucking filth continues to ignore. There is one truth that I continue to shine the light upon. The truth is that without me, there is Sin City. Without me, there is no Sean fucking Parker. Without me, this right here? It means nothing.”
“Confidence is the name of the game, I understand that. Of everyone, I understand it completely. For there are far fewer in this company more confident in their ability than me. There are far fewer people who work as hard as I do. You’re not just facing any old bird. You’re not facing a ghost of the past, a fickle man who prances about on pretense alone. You’re not facing anything you truly understand. No, Sean. You’re facing the workhorse of Sin City Wrestling. You’re facing the man who decides who climbs and who falls. You’re facing the fucking Napalm Kingslayer. I don’t need any gimmick, or magic hoopla. I don’t need a mask to hide behind, and I sure as hell, don’t need anything but my own two fists to beat your goddamn face in.”
“See, I liked you Sean. I liked you, until you made a crucial mistake. You made a faux pas that I cannot forgive. You made Luna cry. You made a choice, a choice to hurt her, in protection of yourself. You made a choice, that affected her and her confidence. You made a choice to hurt the only woman in this world that has ever given me unending love. You hurt the one person who matters to me, Sean. So this? This is personal to me.”
“At the start of this year Sean. I didn’t want to do this anymore. I wanted out. I wanted my retirement. I demanded that should I lose my last shot at the World Title, I’d be forced to retire. The powers that be? They decided not to grant me my wishes. I didn’t even get a break for my honeymoon. To grieve my best friend. No, I didn’t get any kindness shown my way. So what I did, Sean? I made myself indispensable. I made it so that when my contract comes up here in October? I’ll tear this fucking place to the ground. I’ll ruin everything for them, and then? Then everyone will learn. You don’t fucking with Alexander Raven.”
“So not only, is this personal to me Sean. I have to win. I have to be the person who takes the crown. Not only to redeem my short-comings last year. No, that’s just a part of the journey. No, what I need is to be the man in the suit. Crowned with the guaranteed opportunity to stand across from Finn Whelan for a third time. To be the man who is still at the peak of his game. To be the man expected to be the fucking World Champion. This is personal for all different reasons, and you just had to compound that, didn’t you? You had to go and make a stupid fucking decision that not upset Luna, but gave me even more reason to beat your goddamn face in. And there’s one thing that everyone will tell you, Sean.”
“I don’t need a reason.”
“There’s a fundamental question you need to ask yourself, Sean. You win, congratulations, you go on to face Finn Whelan. Do you know how many people hold wins over Finn currently? Five. Five people, Sean. Do you know who the only person in this entire company is that holds two wins over Finn? Me. Alexander Raven. There is nobody more prepared, more skilled and more understanding of the task in front of them. There is nobody more prepared for what lays ahead at the end of the Blast from the Past tournament, than me. I’ve seen how good you are, Sean. I’ve seen the skills you have. I’ve seen your growth. I’ve seen how much better you get every single time you step into the ring. You know what else I’ve seen? The Finn Whelan I beat, wouldn’t be good enough to clean the shoes of the man he is now. Focused, passionate, dedicated. That is Finn Whelan now. The first World Champion in almost two years that is worth the gold that they wear. That’s not me being hyperbolic, or blowing hot air. That is the truth, Sean. See you can climb every mountain you want. You can stand on your laurels. Your successes.”
“At the end of the day? You’re just not fucking ready. You’re not ready to be the guy who carries the company. You’re not ready to be the man who has to stand across from Finn Whelan and tell the world that you are good enough. You’re not ready to beat back every person that steps into your path .You’re just not fucking ready yet. I pity you for it, Sean. I pity that you have stepped into such success. Success that I would question your legitimacy in. Success that I would question the comparison in. Nobody had a harder run to the finals than we did. Not a single team came anywhere fucking close to stand toe to toe with Alexander Raven and Alexandra Calaway. That’s the simple truth of it, Sean. You can stand proud of your achievements, I would. But when it comes down to it? Teddy Warren, Bulldog Bill Barnhart and Artie, don’t really stand much in the way of Mark Cross, Jamie Dean and Peter Vaughn, do they?”
“Maybe I’m just too short-sighted, huh? Maybe I’m the bad guy in all this. See, our reasons. Our reasons for this are wildly different. You want to prove that you can hang with the big boys, and that you are worth the journey that you are on. Fine, good for you. The finishing moves, and the nicknames. You’re a whole package, Sean. You’ve really got yourself worked out. Except, that one thing I’ve learnt in my time? The more you think you know yourself, the less you understand it. That when you’re on the highest of highs, the only way to go is down. You’ve had difficulty, I am aware. But you haven’t been crushed yet, Sean. You haven’t had everything taken from you. You haven’t had those you love begging you to stop. Begging you to leave this life behind. Begging you to take just an ounce of fucking care for yourself. Are you willing to hurt people… really hurt people, Sean? Are you truly willing to crack someone’s skull? To break their arm when they refuse to give in? To take the staple gun and smack it across someone’s face? I want to know how ready you truly are, Sean.”
“You beat me, I need you to be ready. I need you to be the man who can step up. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. All I’ve ever tried to get from anybody. Their fucking best. For every single person to step up their game, so that when I come knocking. When I come to cut you down? You’re at the absolute peak of your journey. That when I set the forest aflame, when I bring the executioner’s axe down? When I say it is time, there is nobody who can question it. Alexander Raven doesn’t just beat down on those below him. No, Alexander Raven? He cuts the fucking king’s head off. He takes to the skies and pecks out the eyes of the mirthless mewling mongrels that squirm and crawl beneath the filth. You’re in my kingdom now, Sean. Are you ready to fucking fight me for it?”
“There’s another side to this all. The reality is no matter who wins, The Conspiracy takes it all. Does it mean all of this is for nothing? Maybe.”
“Lu, I believe in you. There’s nobody in this world more deserving of being on that side of the ring, than you. There’s nobody more deserving to be the one who takes this opportunity. To prove every person who has doubted you, wrong. I’ll let Alexandra fight her own battles, and if she wins, I’ll be there to hold your hand. To love you today, as I did yesterday, and every tomorrow to come. I wish you all the luck in the world, Lu. We’ll show them all.”
“Oh, and Sean?”
“Have you been listening? I need you to listen.”
“I love you, Lexi. I don’t think people thought either of us would make it here, let alone both of us. Opposite sides at the end, and only one of us gets the prize we’re seeking. But it’s not a sad thing. It’s not a bad thing. All this means? We’re guaranteed a chance to change things. We’re guaranteed a chance to prove that The Conspiracy stands at the top of the mountain. We’re guaranteed to give people a fucking reason to talk about our marriage in a negative light for oh… the next six months minimum. We’re guaranteed to have people talk about how one of us is better. Maybe the rhetoric will change. Maybe I’ll get the win and suddenly, they’ll say how Alexander Raven is clinging to relevance by clutching at the success of his partner.”
“See, we talked about this a lot in the last week. After Climax Control, when we realised the potential had become the inevitable. Something that may be a foreign fucking concept for a lot people. We went home, spent time with our dog. With our friends. Spent our downtime with each other. Loving each other. Much to the surprise of literally everyone who has the fucking gall to question our romance. The people who can’t keep marriages, the people who can’t keep relationships. The people who can’t even hold down a job for more than a few weeks. Hi, Mark. We’re really looking forward to the next time you try and say anything fucking dumb. We won’t be here, but we’ll make sure to leave the place in a far more receptive state for you. Wouldn’t want to upset you anymore.”
“You know what this Blast from the Past tournament revealed? It revealed the insecurity of every nosey little bitch who felt the need to make a suggestion as to what my life was. It further revealed the stupidity of every person who has ever questioned my legitimacy. It revealed to me that at the end of the day, everything I’ve been saying is right. Everything I’ve said for months about the other women here? I’ve been fucking right. Juliana makes me look well-adjusted. Courtney has the same virus that seems to plague all the others up themselves cunts that prance in here looking for recognition. The moment things got tough, she got up and left. In the same way that Mark Cross does. In the same way that Eiley and Oz did. Hell, in the same way that Aleesha Jones did. A plague of insecurity. So, I’ll give Juliana her dues. She didn’t run at the first sign of adversity, but I suspect that when she loses to Kayla again, because she will. She’ll pack her bags, and go crying home. Telling everyone how they are the problem, and melting down in a seventeen post long tweet. And then she’ll say I’m a liar for pointing out the truth.”
“Every single week, Sean and I walked in, and we knocked down the competition. Not just scraped by, but dominated. Dominated every single person that stepped in our way. Dominated every single team that thought themselves a chance. Ruined the dreams of Artie and Kallie Reznik. Destroyed the confidence of Kat Jones and proved that I am and always was the better bitch. Roux? Roux seems to suffer the familiar disease. Showed up, lost embarrassingly, and then disappeared. Amazing how these things keep happening, but I’m the crazy one.”
“I’m the crazy one because I dare to love, but also hate. I’m the crazy one because I dare to get involved in things. I’m the crazy one because I refuse to simply sit there and be seen. I will not be silenced for the sake and sanity of those who do not like to be told how the fuck things actually are. That’s the truth of it. That’s what this has all culminated in. That’s why, at the end of this tournament. As much as I would love to see Alex standing on top of the world. We talked about it. We spoke at length, reassured and acknowledged. We listened to each other. He accepts that should things not go his way, we do not lose. That when I win the Blast from the Past, and I go head to head with Kayla Richards. I say Kayla, because we all know there isn’t a chance in fucking hell that Juliana walks away with the belt again. That when I win and go head to head with Kayla. The only two fucking women who actually turn up every week. The only two women who actually wrestle week after fucking week. The only two women in this entire fucking company that matter go head to head. That match will mean something.”
“Which brings me to you, Alexandra. This time last year, we were getting ready to go head to head in the city of Jack the Ripper. This time last year, you couldn’t get a win, I’d just won and then lost the Bombshell Roulette Championship. We were, for lack of a better term, struggling to find our feet. The rookie and the cock-sure veteran. The hardcore legend who was going to show the upstart how it was done. To put that barbwire crown upon your own head as you beat, and cut, and slashed me to pieces. Except… just like Kallie, so sure in her own past leading her to be better. Just like every other woman who has taken their past and assumed that makes them superior. You faltered. You fell and you fell hard. That said, I went on to become friends with a flaky little bitch called Ariana Angelos. The woman who used me for my friendship, took the championship from me, and then didn’t even fucking send a message when my brother died.”
“I won and lost another championship on my first defence. You however? You went on to win that Bombshell Roulette Championship that I lost. You won and held it and defended it and proved that you could hang with the big bad bitches of Sin City Wrestling. Three cheers for the barbed wire queen, who still had that loss hanging over her head. Three cheers for the woman who the next time we bashed headed, couldn’t get the job done again. The woman whose success in the Mixed Tag division, comes as a result of The Conspiracy, and not her best friend. A certain irony in that our banging of heads came from this very tournament. That our banging of heads came from you and my sweet losing in the opening round, costing him his Internet Championship. A year on, he had a chance to win it back and what happened? The wimpy ass fragile man Peter Vaughn ran away when he realised he couldn’t hold the gold if he stayed in the match. Then that fucking cunt Bobbie Dahl who a year earlier had cost The Conspiracy everything. She couldn’t stand up to the revenge seeking Alexandra Calaway. Funny how a year on, so many things remain the same.”
“The same thing that is going to happen at Into the Void. You’ll walk in, put your championship on the line. Look across the ring and see the thorn in your side. Luna Pasilno, the real barbed wire queen of Sin City. The Masochist of Sin City. The fucking Idol of Sin City Wrestling. So what happens now? I take everything from you again. I remind you of why for the last year I’ve been the thorn in your side. I remind you why you cannot and will not beat Luna fucking Pasilno. I’ll remind you of my vanity. I’ll remind you of the journey that brought me here. I’ll remind you, Ally, because you seem to forget. Respect or not, that doesn’t fucking matter when everything is on the line. This is a guaranteed run at the Bombshell World Championship. This is my chance to embarrass you, and show you what it feels like to be made fun of constantly for being a ‘transitional champion’. The one thing that Krystal Wolfe has had to say for months and months about me. The one bit of information that anyone ever seems to fucking remember. Attack my marriage, attack my record. Attack my sanity and then wonder why I’m trying to claw your fucking eyes out in that ring.”
“Respect for skill doesn’t mean respect for the person. Respect for the person, doesn’t mean I’m not going to roll through you if that is what I need to do. I want you to understand something, Ally. Beating you, it might hurt Alex professionally, but. Beating you? It fulfils me personally. It fucking fills me with unending joy the idea that a year on, a year of listening to you talk over and over. Seeing you granted opportunity after fucking opportunity, only to come up short over and over. That a year on I’m still going to be better than you. That I’m still going to be the woman who climbs to the peak, shows you where you could be if only you were just a little bit better. Shows you where you could be, if only you could ever beat Luna. Spoiler, you aren’t ever going to be better than me. You aren’t ever going to beat me. Everything you’ve had, you’ve wasted. You’ve failed. This time? This time I take it all, and send you home. Crying, snivelling and whining. Send you flailing into the arms of the nearest warm body.”
“I don’t like you Ally. I never have, never will. I can have respect for you, though even that is a stretch. You can have respect for me, and I would recommend it. You should always respect your betters. Come Into the Void, the finals of the Blast from the Past tournament? It’ll be ironic how true the tournament name is. You’ll be experiencing a blast from our past all over again. When you’re staring up at the lights, trying to blink your soul back into your body. Remember that the person who just crushed your chest? Her name is Luna fucking Pasilno, and she?”
“She is the motherfucking Idol of Sin City Wrestling.”
“The Conspiracy is here.”