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Roleplay Boards => Archived Roleplays => Climax Control Archives => Topic started by: Mercedes Vargas on November 15, 2013, 11:29:06 PM
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OFF-CAMERA || CARONA PARK || QUEENS, NEW YORK || WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 13, 2013
S|C|E|N|E| 001
(Our scene opens on Mercedes's pen moving swiftly across a diary page as the words formed by it matches her voiceover.)
November 13, 2013
Dear Diary,
Another week, another opponent, another win.
I think I can get use to this.
So, first title defenses are the worst, but they just happen to be where I shine best. Don't get me wrong, Traci Patterson gave me quite the battle two weeks ago, but, in the end, I came out the victor. Most people would probably dusts their hands and turn their back on their opponent, not me. Unlike some of the girls in the Bombshell Division, I have class, and that's why I offered Traci to shake my hand, and what does she do? She sends me in a delivery truck!
I thought what Misty did to Gothika was bad, but this takes the cake.
Traci is such a sore loser! Ugh!
Cut to Mercedes sitting in the bleachers at the Soccer Fields at Corona Park. Out on the field a group of kids from the local high school team is practicing. One of the players dribbles the ball past one or two defenders before stopping a few yards short of the goal post and fires the ball, though their aim is way off, sailing wide left. The other players turn as one towards the bleachers where Mercedes struggles to coax her pen to write. One of the players shout towards her.
"Hey, lady, think fast!"
(As Mercedes looks up, the ball came flying into shot missing her face by mere inches. Shocked for a few moments, she shakes it off and looks out towards the field, passing over the players. The striker, a brown haired boy shrugs.)
"Sorry!"
Mercedes Vargas: Oh, you will be!
Death stare!
You know, I'm really beginning to think that I am so right being the Bombshell Roulette Champion. No offense to the other eight title holders, but what exactly did they do to bring respect to the title? I'm going to change all that during my reign, even if I have to add names on my checklist every week. But I especially want to face Traci again after what she did to me. That's something I cannot forgive!
OFF-CAMERA || LAS VEGAS, NEVADA || SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 3, 2013
The smell of cardboard. That's all she could figure out right then as our scene open with Mercedes still inside the delivery truck, banging on the walls in hopes of being rescued but no avail. She didn't know where or how far she was from the arena, but judging from the honking cars outside, she guessed it was probably on the freeway.
Cut to the delivery man, who sings along the lyrics of Steppenwolf's "Born to Be Wild" on the radio, barely paying attention to the road as he swerves through traffic. Mercedes holds on for dear life to whatever that was stable before the truck picks up speed, which sends her colliding into a desk drawer and a package falls from a stack and lands on her foot, causing her to scream a string of curse words.
Back out front, the delivery man reaches for his CB radio before placing it back in its holder. The way things were going, this was going to be a long night. Plus, she was getting claustrophobic.
Did anyone even notice I was kidnapped...adultnapped...deliverynapped that night? Where were the "Free Mercedes!" bumper stickers?! I didn't think would turn out this bad, but I was oh so wrong.
It kinda comes with the territory.
Several hours has passed. Mercedes is huddle in a corner, though she is apprehensive as movement has stopped. She could barely make out the conversation going on outside, followed by footsteps coming closer. The back of the truck opens and there stood Delivery Guy and a co-worker sitting in a forklift, both are startled upon seeing Mercedes, who gives them a withering stare.
Delivery Man: Now how did you end up in here?
Mercedes: It's a long story. Where am I?
Co-Worker: You're a long ways from Cesar's Palace, that's for sure.
Mercedes climbs out of the back, her hair a disheveled mess.
Mercedes: I need to get back.
Co-Worker: Get back where? Cesar's is closed for the night.
Mercedes: I'm NOT a showgirl. I'm a professional wrestler, and I need to get back to Luxor Hotel & Casino
Delivery Man: Why?
Mercedes: My title. I left my championship title back at the Club LAX parking garage.
With a shrug, Delivery Man obliges.
Delivery Man: Well, alright. Hop in front.
Mercedes climbs out of the back and look around. It was your typical warehouse. Catwalks run along the rafters, forklifts can be found everywhere. Empty boxes on top of dusty pallets. Lots filled to the brim with still to be categorized shipment. She opens the door. Delivery Guy swing around to the driver's side as Co-Worker looks on.
Co-Worker: I can't wait to tell the fellas at work tomorrow.
Delivery Man: Yeah? And what are the chances they'll believe you?
Co-Worker reconsiders.
Co-Worker: Yeah, you're right. This conversation never happened. So, see you at the tailgate tomorrow?
Delivery Man: You know it.
Delivery Guy starts the engine and turns to Mercedes.
Delivery Man: Hey, you like showtunes?
Mercedes looks out the window, cursing her fate.
Mercedes: Kill me. Kill me now.
Fades.
Haunted houses, nightclubs, convention centers...I think I've had all I can take of Nevada. Familiarity breeds contempt. And I guess SCW realized the same thing. I think the change of scenery is a good thing, heading to California this weekend for Climax Control.
I don't know what I'm looking forward most: the sand, surf, and sun or my next opponent in Amy Marshall. Either way, it's a pleasant surprise.
And I for one like surprises.
Wish me luck.
Or don’t.
Of course, I don’t need luck. I’m already good.
Ciao.
The Argentine Assassin.
ON-CAMERA || QUEENS, NEW YORK || FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 2013
Scene opens on a close up shot of a checklist. A list of names are stained on the paper and after each name, a firm line is crossed through it. The camera stops on a name that has yet to be crossed off - Traci Patterson. A lowered voice is heard.
"And down...goes...Traci."
Followed by a mirth laughter.
Mercedes Vargas takes her marker and draws a line through Traci's name as she looks up at the camera.
"Hello, Amy. It's been a long time coming, hasn't it, sweetheart? I know, I know, it's a shock to me, too. But don't worry, we'll get over it, somehow. I just know it. Now, I know I wasn't at Climax Control last week, but I did remember to set my DVR. And all I can say is wow. Great show last week, it was awesome, it really was. But what really got my attention was what Misty had to say, it was certainly an eye-opener."
Mercedes takes off her reading glasses and places this on top of her checklist.
"Misty wants you to know there's no competition in the Bombshells Division. Do you feel insulted by that, Amy? I know I am, and I'm one of its champions. Misty wants you to know that you haven't achieved anything in your career in SCW and you're treading water, tilting at windmills, and wasting your time. Basically, it's as if you're here just to collect a paycheck and not much else.
"How does that make you feel? I know if I were in your shoes, I would want to prove her wrong. I would want to make Misty eat her words...No, choke on her words this Sunday and prove to her that, yes, competition still lives in the Bombshells, competition exist in Sin City Wrestling. If you didn't think you were good enough, if you didn't think you were worth a damn, let's face it, sweetheart, you wouldn't even be here.
"In her little diatribe, Misty goes on to claim that she cares about the Bombshells and she loves the Bombshells, when we know that's all a lie. Misty doesn't care about the Bombshells, because she's embarrassed to be one. Little Miss Original Bombshell is winding down on her career, and she no longer feels hat this division is worth saving. And really now, what more does she has to prove? She's a three-time Bombshell Champion, two-time Woman of the Year recipient, probably a future member of the hall of fame, too. Do you really think she wants to see the division get better? I don't think so. Misty is only counting down the days until she finally calls it a career, and who is to say she'll probably follow her former tag partner? You see why Vixen should be concerned? You see why she'll be only known as carrying Misty's other title? That's exactly why. The one Vixen no one can outfox may have outfoxed herself."
Well, that was one matter of opinion, anyway. If the partnership between Misty and her last partner was anything to go by, this new partnership between Vixen and Misty would top that. And while she don't know who will be the next Johnny-come-lately tag team to challenge for those Bombshell tag titles, she did know that she would be plenty busy defending her singles title. Such is the life of a champion.
Amy, I'm not looking past you, I'm looking at you. You are my next title defense, and if management didn't think you were worthy, trust me, you would probably be opening the show, or stuck in another cluster-you-know-what tag match. You're better than that, Amy. And I know you're better thant that. See, because, anyone who is able to pin Odette Ryder should be taken seriously. You, Amy, were the only one to step up and accept her open challenge and you did what very few has been able to do and pin her shoulders to the mat, 1-2-3. And now where is she? That's right, gone from SCW, never to be heard from again. Makes you wonder what's she up to these days.Maybe she's enjoying her time away with her hubbie below the Barrier Reef, or she's getting fat sitting on the couch and watching soap operas?
She holds up her hand innocently. It's not like she cared or anything, but just the same it made her wonder....wonder why SCW didn't get on to that "SCW Bombshells: Where Are They Now" DVD.
"Amy, you know this had to happen eventually. You know we would be seeing each other at some point, title match or no title match. You're being offered a title shot here, a golden opportunity. And with that a chance to finally get the proverbial monkey off your back and beat me in a singles match, it's that simple. I know you'll bring your A-game. In fact, I expect you to. Don't try and prove something to me, prove to the world, prove to Misty, and prove to yourself that you are competition, and the most dangerous Bombshell on the roster. Because I don't want to defeat the Amy Marshall who was a member of the Sisters of the Light, not the Amy Marshall who was a part of Team Erik...
"I want to defeat Amy Marshall at her absolute best.
"Know it, Say it, Fear it. Remember that catchphrase you use to say? That's what I want to see from you this Sunday. Think of it this way, Amy: If I win, I get nothing. If you win, if you beat me, you pin my shoulders to the mat for three seconds, you end my reign and become Bombshell Roulette Champion.
"It's that simple."
She pauses.
"And this time when I raise your hand, there won't be any crying."
Scene fades.