Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 23 al 30 de marzo de 2025

Blaze of Glory is just around the corner, and so is the Elimination Chamber—the most unforgiving structure in wrestling. Six competitors will enter, but only one will emerge victorious. They think they can take me down, that they can outlast me in the unforgiving confines of that steel cage. But let's be real—most of them can't even outlast their own hype. My opponents? Let’s just say they’re nothing more than pretenders to the throne, clinging to the hope that somehow, someway, they’ll manage to outmaneuver the greatest of all time

Andrea Hernandez has been riding high with that title, but I bet she never expected her first defense to be quite like this. She may hold the gold now, but after Blaze of Glory, she’ll be lucky if she even remembers what it felt like to be champion. Because she won’t just lose the title—she'll lose the illusion that she ever belonged in my ring.

Necra Octavian Kane, the supposed dark force of this match. Her theatrics might scare some people, but I don’t flinch at shadows. Because when you strip away the mystique, she’s just another competitor who will fall to me like the last two times we met for the Bombshell Roulette Championship all those years ago.

Kayla Richards wants to avenge her loss to Andrea so bad, she can taste it. But I have a feeling she's still going to be searching for her first pay-per-view win this year. When they scrape what's left of her off the Chamber floor, they'll find just three things: her teeth, her pride, and my boot prints. The first two will be shattered and the last one? That's her new reality from now until retirement day.

Cassie Wolfe is looking to defy the odds, when the odds weren't with her in the first place. She calls herself, the ‘Rebel Princess’? More like the Sacrificial Lamb of this Chamber. She talks about being ‘hungry’? Hunger fades eventually. And when that cage locks, you’ll realize too late that your fairy-tale rebellion ends with me playing the Big Bad Wolf… and you? You’re just dinner. A cautionary tale.

Candy seems more concerned with being everyone’s favorite sweetheart than actually winning matches. Guess nobody told her that Charm doesn’t win championships. If it did, she would be undefeated.

Oh, you want more? You want me to keep going? Fine. Let’s keep this train rolling because, clearly, you just can’t get enough of Mercedes Vargas—and honestly, who could blame you? I’m the reason you tune in. I’m the reason this company thrives. Without me, this place would be nothing more than a revolving door of mediocrity. So sit back and let me educate you on why I’m untouchable, undeniable, and absolutely unstoppable."

You see, people love to throw around words like legend or icon, but those words don’t hold weight unless they’re attached to my name. Let’s be honest—there isn’t a single person on this roster who can match what I’ve done or what I continue to do. They call themselves champions, contenders, trailblazers—but when they step into the ring with me? They’re exposed for what they truly are: overhyped amateurs.

And oh, how they try. They bring their flashy moves, their big talk, and their desperate attempts to make a name for themselves at my expense. But here’s the truth: I don’t just beat them—I break them. I take their hopes and dreams and crush them under my boot like the insignificant specks they are. Because that’s what happens when you challenge Mercedes Vargas—you don’t just lose; you get erased.

But let’s not forget the critics—the ones in their echo chambers typing away about how ‘Mercedes Vargas is too cocky’ or ‘Mercedes Vargas doesn’t deserve her spot anymore.’ Oh, sweethearts, let me make something crystal clear: I didn’t just earn my spot—I built it. Brick by brick, match by match, victory by victory. And if you think your opinions matter to me? Think again. I don’t need your approval or validation. And I certainly don’t need your permission to keep being the absolute best in this business.

While you’re busy criticizing from the sidelines, I’m out here making history—again and again and again. To anyone who thinks they’re ready to take me down? Let me save you the trouble: you’re not ready. You’ll never be ready. Because stepping into the ring with Mercedes Vargas isn’t just a challenge—it’s a career-defining moment. For me? It’s Tuesday. For you? It’s the day you realize that everything you’ve worked for means nothing when you’re standing across from greatness.

So bring it on—bring your best shot, your biggest dreams, every ounce of fight in your body. Because when it’s all over, when the dust settles and the crowd is left in stunned silence, there will only be one woman standing tall: Mercedes Vargas.

And if that bothers you? Good. That means I’m still doing what I do best—being better than everyone else.


[The marina smells of diesel fuel and failed dreams. Hugo stands transfixed before Seas the Day, Tomas' decaying twenty-foot fishing boat, as if beholding the Sistine Chapel of poor decisions. The vessel lists slightly to starboard, its peeling paint job revealing layers of nautical regret.

Hugo breathes, grabbing his friend's shoulders with the intensity of a televangelist.]

HUGO
Tomas… you’ve been sitting on a goldmine.

[Tomas takes a lazy sip of his beer, unfazed.]

TOMAS
It’s a boat.

[Hugo spreads his arms like a cult leader addressing his flock.]

HUGO
No. It’s "The Floating Penalty Box"—the greatest illegal sports bar in harbor history. Five TVs. Local ads. We’ll print money!

[As if to punctuate the declaration, the boat's corroded nameplate clatters onto the dock. Tomas eyes the rusted hull.]

TOMAS
Sounds like work.

HUGO
You’ll be "Head of Vibes."

[A beat. Tomas raises his bottle in salute.]

TOMAS
...I accept.

[A dry voice cuts through their scheming.]

"Please tell me this isn't another fantasy football scheme."

[Mercedes Vargas leans against a piling, her crossed arms straining the sleeves of her hoodie. The morning sun glinted off the championship belt slung over her shoulder like a particularly tacky purse.

Hugo spins toward her with the grace of a used-car salesman spotting a mark.]

HUGO
Mercedes! Perfect timing. You'll be—

MERCEDES
Let me guess: "security."

[His grin widens.]

HUGO
Director of Guest Relations.

[Tomas translated through a mouthful of beer.]

TOMAS
You throw drunks overboard.

[Mercedes sighed—the sound of a woman who'd body-slammed men for twenty years and still hadn't earned this level of nonsense. In one fluid motion, she hooks Hugo into a headlock, her bicep crushing his windpipe with practiced ease.

MERCEDES
Raise your hand if you want a demo.

Hugo flails like an overturned turtle. Tomas raises his beer bottle.

Later, Inside the Boat

[The cabin smells like wet socks and poor life choices. Mercedes pokes a warped floorboard with her toe.]

MERCEDES
This is the dumbest plan since Ricardo tried to open a vineyard in his studio apartment.

INT. RICARDO’S STUDIO APARTMENT – FLASHBACK (NIGHT)

[A MATCH CUT from Mercedes’ wrestling belt to a wine bottle clutched in Ricardo's hand. He stands amid a disaster: A bathtub overflowing with bruised Concord grapes, a stolen "Napa Valley Vineyard" sign hung crookedly above the toilet, secured with duct taped to the wall, and Irma painting protest signs ("This is NOT Sonoma").

He swirls a jelly jar of murky liquid, his silk scarf catching the dim light.

RICARDO
Philistine. This bathtub’s porcelain is older than most French oak barrels.

[He raises the jar like a chalice.]

RICARDO
Behold… Château Ricardo!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.

[Carmen fills the doorway, badge glinting under harsh hallway fluorescents.]

CARMEN
Neighbors called. Again.

[Ricardo’s grip tightens on the jar.]

RICARDO
Terroir is anywhere you dream it! Even...

[He gestures to moldy shower tiles.]

RICARDO
—in a rent-controlled Studio 6B.

[Carmen steps over a pile of stomped grape skins. Her boots leave pulpy evidence. She snatches the jar, sniffs.]

CARMEN
This smells like Robitussin.

RICARDO
Complexity!

Irma silently holds up a new protest sign: "ARREST THIS MAN."

[END OF FLASHBACK]

[Hugo, Tomas and Mercedes surveys the moldy interior of the boat. Hugo, undeterred, gestured to their "amenities": A bench upholstered in what might've been carpet in the 1980s ("VIP section!"), a dented bucket ("Keg cooler!"), her abandoned wrestling belt in a puddle ("Lost & Found slash weapon!")

Mercedes massages her temples. Twelve years in the ring, two torn ACLs, and this was her retirement plan?

Hugo claps her shoulder.]

HUGO
Exactly why it'll work.


Present Day ♦ T U C S O N, A R I Z O N A

[REC•]

[The Cactus Moon Saloon is quiet except for the hum of a dying neon sign. Mercedes Vargas kicks open the doors, her boots scattering dust across framed photos of midget wrestling posters deliberately hung at knee-height. She stops beneath a flickering neon "Lucha Libre Tonight" sign, its pink glow reflecting off the scars on her knuckles as she slams her fist onto a scarred wooden bar table.

"Let me get this straight. Candy wins her SCW in-ring return against Miss Manners—good for her, I guess—and suddenly Christian Underwood hands her a golden ticket straight into the Chamber match? No qualifying match, no struggle, just a free pass? And then we have Necra Octavian Kane pulling off one of her little stunts, getting Underwood to sign a contract that makes her the final entrant. No match, no announcement, just manipulation.

"Meanwhile, the rest of us are out here busting our ass week after week, earning our spots the hard way. But apparently, that doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t need to win matches or even talk to management. You just need to be Candy or Necra Octavian Kane. That doesn’t sound crazy to y’all? Because it sure sounds crazy to me."

[Mercedes grabs a shot glass from the bar, crushes it in her palm, and lets the shards scatter across the table like confetti.]

"Let’s get one thing straight: this match isn’t about proving anything to my opponents. It’s not about silencing the haters or earning your respect. I don’t need your respect—I’ve already got the respect of everyone who matters in this business. This match is about one thing and one thing only: reclaiming my spot at the top of this division. And if that means going through both of you—and anyone else who dares to stand in my way—then so be it.

"You want to talk about pressure? About adversity? Let me tell you something about pressure—it’s what creates diamonds. And I’ve been under pressure my entire career. Every time someone like you called me washed up, every time someone said I didn’t belong anymore, every time someone tried to write me off—I proved them wrong. Time and time again. And Sunday night will be no different."

[Mercedes takes a step forward, her eyes burning with determination.]

"I earned this opportunity. I earned every goddamn right of being in this match. I wanted to be in this match. I deserve to be in this match. There is no one alive on this roster than can say that I don’t have what it takes to become world champion. If you want to talk about dedication, if you want to find one of the pillars of the women’s division, you don’t have to go very far. Whether I was featured in the pre-show, the opening match, the mid-card or main eventing, there was a good chance my name was on the card and a very good chance you would see me in the ring. Just like you'll see me in the ring at Blaze of Glory.

"And when it’s all over—when I’m standing tall with the Bombshell Championship in my hands—you’ll finally understand why they call me ‘The Dynasty.’ Because no matter how many times people like you try to count me out… I always find a way to win."

[Mercedes pauses, letting her words sink in.]

"But back to Candy. Sweet, sugary, pointless Candy. You walk around here like winning a popularity contest means you deserve a title shot. Well guess what? The Chamber isn’t a pageant. There’s no judges, no scoring, no second chances. Just pain. And when you’re locked in there with me? You’re gonna realize that being liked doesn’t make you dangerous. Let me break this down for you, cupcake. That bubbly personality? Those cutesy winks to the crowd? They won't save you when I'm stomping your ribs through the steel grating. The Elimination Chamber doesn't care how many kids wear your merch—it only cares how much pain you can endure. And judging by how you tapped out to a basic armbar last month? You'll be screaming before the first pod opens. Tell me, Candy—when you're curled up in that corner, makeup running, begging the ref to stop the match... will you still be smiling then? Or will you finally understand what happens when a real woman takes your dollhouse and burns it down?

"You're not an athlete—you're a mascot. A living, breathing participation trophy who thinks smiling through losses makes you 'resilient.' Newsflash: Real champions don't get applauded for failing pretty. They get remembered for making their opponents bleed. And honey? When I'm done with you, they'll need to peel your glittery façade off that cage floor with a spatula.

"So go ahead, Candy—smile for the cameras. Wave to your little fans. Because when that pod door opens, the only thing sweet about you will be the sound of you crying when I’m done with you.

"Sprinkle, sprinkle."

[The camera catches Mercedes crushing a handful of candy sprinkles in her fist, letting the colored dust fall onto a nearby flyer for "Tiny Athletes, Big Fun!" at ZONA 520. She grinds the glitter into the wood with her boot heel as t takes a moment to collect herself before addressing Cassie Wolfe.]

"And Cassie… I know this is probably overwhelming for you. Being thrown into a match like this with so much on the line—it’s a lot for anyone, let alone someone as new as you.

"Now you’re standing across the ring from me, and let me make one thing perfectly clear: this isn’t about teamwork anymore. This is about survival. And when it comes to survival in this business, there’s no one better than me."

"You’re young, Cassie. Hungry. Full of potential. I see it; everyone sees it. But potential doesn’t win matches—experience does. And while you’re still figuring out who you are in this ring, I’ve already carved my name into the history books. You may call yourself ‘The Rebel Princess,’ but in this match, rebellion won’t save you. Your high-flying antics and youthful energy may dazzle the crowd, but they won’t be enough to overcome the decades of knowledge and skill I bring to that ring. You're so eager to prove yourself that you don’t even see how out of your depth you are. You’re like a puppy chasing cars, clueless about what to do when you actually catch one."

[Mercedes smirks coldly.]

"You might think this is your moment to prove yourself, Cassie. To show the world that you belong in the same conversation as the greats. But let me warn you now: stepping into the ring with me isn’t an opportunity—it’s a lesson. A lesson in what it takes to truly succeed in this business. A lesson in why legends like me endure while rookies like you struggle to find their footing.

"And don’t think for a second that I’ve forgotten how quick you were to dismiss me when we were partners. You didn’t trust me then, and now? Now you’ll learn exactly why underestimating Mercedes Vargas is the biggest mistake anyone can make."

You wanted to prove yourself on Sunday? Well, congratulations—you’re about to get your chance. Just don’t be surprised when it ends with you looking up at the lights while my hand is raised in victory."

[Mercedes pulls out a Cassie Wolfe "Rebel Princess" bandana from her pocket—stained with what looks like blood—and uses it to polish her knee pad.]

"Andrea, right now you tell yourself you're number one, and the only way to prove it is by being number one, and holding the Bombshell World Championship makes you number one. But let me tell you something: you could be a challenger, a contender, or even a champion—but when you’re standing across from me, you title means nothing. Because when the bell rings and it’s just you and me in that ring, that's when reality hits harder than my knee to your pretty little face. So enjoy your little Cinderella story while it lasts, princesa. Because when the clock strikes midnight at Blaze of Glory, you'll wake up bruised, broken, and beltless - wondering how you ever thought you could hang with the elite. And that's not a prediction. That's your immediate future."

[Mercedes flips open a Tucson sports newspaper - Andrea's face circled in red with "THE PHOENIX" scrawled across it - before setting it ablaze with a Zippo. She watches the flames consume the page in a rusted barrel marked "SCW Trash".]

"Kayla Richards, you think this is your redemption story? You think this is your time where you get the guy, the gold, and the glory? Two out of three ain’t bad—but the gold will be with me. Let me paint the real picture for you. When that chamber door closes and there’s nowhere left to run, no excuses left to make, and no more words left to say—you’ll realize that you’re not stepping into the ring with just another opponent. You’re stepping into the ring with a legend. A survivor. A champion. Sunday won't be your redemption story, When the Chamber locks, you’ll realize: this isn’t your moment. It’s just another chapter in mine.

Your little ‘bad girl’ act doesn't intimidate me. I’ve faced women tougher, smarter, and far more dangerous than you could ever dream of being. You don't think I belong in the main event, and that's fine. But ask yourself: what’s worse—having to face Mercedes Vargas in that Chamber... or having to explain to the world how badly I broke you on the way out.

"Hug Finn tight tonight, mamita. After Sunday, you’ll need a shoulder to cry on."

[Mercedes snatches a "Kayla 4 Champ" sign from the wall, tearing it in half with before throwing the pieces at the camera.]

"Necra... oh, Necra. You never could leave well enough, could you? You could have been livint a simple, happy life in retirement, but we all know the reason you retired was because you couldn’t hack it. The Chamber’s gonna remind you why.

"You slink around in your little black leather and your face paint, pretending you’re some kind of monster under the bed. But let me tell you something—monsters don’t need costumes. Monsters don’t pretend. And when the Chamber locks behind us? You’ll realize the only thing scary about you is how badly I’m going to expose you.

"You want to play mind games? Fine. But here’s the thing about mind games—they don’t work on someone who’s already five steps ahead. You think your little theatrics intimidate me? Please. I’ve broken tougher women before breakfast. You’re not a nightmare, Necra—you’re a joke. A cheap haunted house attraction where the only thing screaming will be YOU when I put you through the damn Chamber floor."

[Mercedes kicks over a chair, sending it clattering into a wall of lucha libre masks—one resembling Necra’s painted face cracks down the middle. She stomps on the fragments, grinding them under her boot heel.]

"So here’s my advice to anyone who thinks they’ve got what it takes to step up to me: bring everything you’ve got—your talent, your ambition, your desperation—because trust me, you’re going to need it. But even then? It won’t be enough.

*You see, the difference between me and the rest of you is simple: I don’t just talk about being great—I am great. My name is etched in SCW history, not because I begged for opportunities or whined about being overlooked, but because I took everything this business threw at me and turned it into gold. Andrea, Kayla, Candy, Cassie, Necra—you’re all walking into the Elimination Chamber hoping for a miracle. Me? I’m walking in knowing I’m the inevitable.

"This match isn’t about who’s the nicest or who has the best sob story—it’s about survival. It’s about who can endure the pain, the punishment, and the brutality that comes with stepping into that chamber. And let me tell you something: none of you have what it takes to survive me. I’ve been through wars in that ring, I’ve faced legends and broken records, and I’ve done it all with a smile on my face because I thrive where others crumble.

"Blaze of Glory XIII will be no different. When that chamber door locks and there’s nowhere to run, no one to save you, and no excuses left to make, you’ll all realize exactly who you’re dealing with. I’m not just another competitor—I’m Mercedes Vargas, the standard-bearer of this division, the measuring stick by which all of you are judged. And spoiler alert: none of you measure up.

"So pray to whatever god you believe in that you don’t end up in my pod. Because when that door opens? I won’t just eliminate you—I’ll erase you. And years from now, when people talk about Blaze of Glory, they won’t remember your names. They’ll only remember how I turned all five of you into footnotes on my path to immortality.

You wanted a war? Congratulations. You’re cannon fodder. See you in hell, ladies."

[Mercedes exits into the desert night, but not before she carves "DYNÁSTYA" into the table with a switchblade. The camera lingers as distant coyotes howl.]

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***

COLD OPEN INT. MERCEDES’ LIVING ROOM – EVENING

[The cozy living room was a shrine to Mercedes Vargas's wrestling career—championship belts hung artfully on walls, vintage posters captured moments of her greatest victories, and action figures stood in dramatic poses across shelves. Mercedes herself sat on the plush leather couch, her fingers scrolling absently across her smartphone screen. The late afternoon Los Angeles light filtered through venetian blinds, casting geometric shadows across the room.

Her expression shifted subtly—from casual disinterest to sudden, sharp attention—as her phone buzzed with an incoming call. The caller ID showed "Mom," and Mercedes knew immediately this wasn't going to be an ordinary conversation.]

MERCEDES
Hey, Mom. What’s up?

[Her mother Estelle's excited voice burst through the phone's speaker, practically vibrating with energy.]

ESTELLE (V.O.)
Mercedes! Big news! Your father and I are opening a restaurant!

[Mercedes sat up straighter, her athletic frame suddenly alert.]

MERCEDES
Wait, what? A restaurant? Since when do you two know anything about running a restaurant?

[Estelle's enthusiasm was infectious, even through the phone line.]

ESTELLE (V.O.)
It’s not just any restaurant—it’s wrestling-themed! And we're not running  it, your friends are. They need your help to promote it. You’re their star attraction!

[Mercedes freezes for a moment, overwhelmed but intrigued.]

MERCEDES
Wrestling-themed? That’s... actually kind of cool. But me? Promoting it? I don’t know, Mom—

[Before she can finish, the apartment's door bursts open. Jorge walks in uninvited, laptop tucked under his arm and looking smug.]

JORGE
Did someone say “restaurant”? Because I smell a feature article!

[Mercedes glares at her brother but can’t help smirking. Some things never changed.]

MERCEDES
Jorge, do you ever knock?

JORGE
Why knock when I have perfect timing? This is big news, Mercedes. Your friends are opening a restaurant, and you’re the face of it! This could be my next big story.

[Mercedes rolls her eyes but can’t hide her nervous excitement.]

MERCEDES
Yeah, well, don’t get too excited. I haven’t said yes yet.

[She looks back at her phone as Estelle continues talking excitedly in the background.]

INT. CARMEN’S OFFICE – SAME TIME

[Carmen Reyes sits at her desk in a sleek office, surrounded by stacks of legal files. She’s on the phone with a client while glancing at an email from Mercedes about the restaurant.]

CARMEN
(to client)
Yes, I understand your concerns, but we’ll need more evidence before we can move forward with the case.

[She sighs and clicks on Mercedes’ email, reading it quickly before muttering to herself.]

CARMEN
A wrestling-themed restaurant? Of course they’d rope me into this somehow...

INT. JORGE'S APARTMENT

[Jorge sits at his cluttered desk, the glow of his laptop illuminating his face in the dim light of the apartment, a chaotic mix of old pizza boxes and scattered papers, remnants of late-night brainstorming sessions that never quite went anywhere. The faint hum of the computer fills the silence as he types furiously, his fingers dancing over the keys. A half-empty coffee cup sits precariously on the edge of the desk, its contents long gone cold. Fingers flying over the keyboard, he crafts a satirical article that pokes fun at his sister Mercedes' lofty dreams. With each word, a smirk creeps onto his face. He’s crafting a satirical article that mercilessly mocks his sister Mercedes’ lofty aspirations. He can almost hear her voice in his head, the way she passionately talks about her dreams, and it only fuels his resolve.“Who does she think she is?” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head as he types another biting line.

Just as he types the final sentence, a sudden ping from his phone breaks his concentration. It’s a message from Mercedes: "Can’t wait to share my big news with you! 😊"

His heart skips a beat, and for a moment, doubt flickers in his mind. Should he really publish this? He hesitates, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he considers her excitement. But then he shakes off the thought, a mischievous grin returning to his face.

With a triumphant click, he hits "publish," sending his biting commentary into the digital world. The room is silent except for the soft hum of the computer, as Jorge leans back, satisfied with his mischievous work.]

INT. RESTAURANT KITCHEN – NIGHT (FLASH FORWARD)

[Ricardo and Tomas are in the kitchen of the unfinished restaurant. It’s chaos—pots are boiling over, smoke fills the air, and Tomas is frantically fanning a burnt tray of appetizers while Ricardo tries to salvage a dish.]

RICARDO
Tomas! How did you burn everything in five minutes?!

TOMAS
It’s called “flavor,” Ricardo! You wouldn’t understand genius if it hit you in the face!

[Smoke alarms start blaring as Irma rushes in holding a plate of lopsided cupcakes.]

IRMA
I think I used salt instead of sugar... again.

[They all freeze as the fire alarm goes off and water sprays from the sprinklers above. Smash cut back to Mercedes in her living room as she hears all this chaos through her phone.]

INT. MERCEDES’ LIVING ROOM – CONTINUOUS

[Mercedes pinches the bridge of her nose as her mom continues rambling on speakerphone.]

ESTELLE (V.O.)
So what do you think? Are you in? We’re counting on you!

[Mercedes exhales deeply before responding with a resigned smile.]

MERCEDES
Yeah... sure. What could possibly go wrong?

INT. RESTAURANT KITCHEN – DAY

[The kitchen was a battlefield of culinary chaos. Ricardo stood in front of a stovetop with smoke billowing around him as he frantically waved a dish towel to clear the air. Pots clanged, timers beeped, and the unmistakable scent of something burning filled the room.

Tomas was perched on a stool nearby, holding a tray of raw chicken wings with an air of misplaced confidence. He inspected them thoughtfully before shrugging and placing them on a serving platter.

Tomas mutters to himself.]

TOMAS
Perfectly fine. Medium rare is trendy now.

[Meanwhile, Irma bustles around the kitchen island with a mixing bowl in hand, her brow furrows in concentration. She carefully measures out what she thought was sugar and dumps it into the batter for cupcakes. The granules sparkles innocently in the light—until Ricardo glances over and froze mid-motion.]

RICARDO
Irma! That’s salt! You’re putting salt in the cupcakes!"

[Irma stopped stirring and looked down at the bowl, her face falling as realization dawned.

IRMA
Oh no... again?!

[She groans and set the bowl aside, muttering under her breath about how recipes were unnecessarily complicated.
Across the room, Tomas was already making his next questionable decision. He grabs a ladle and began taste-testing the soup directly from the pot—only to spit it out dramatically into the sink.]

TOMAS
Too much pepper. Or maybe not enough? Who can tell these days?

[Ricardo turns back to his stovetop just in time to see flames licking up from one of his pans. He yelps and grabs a fire extinguisher, spraying foam wildly until both the flames and half of their appetizers were ruined beyond recognition.]

RESTAURANT DINING AREA – LATER THAT DAY

[Despite the earlier chaos, the dining area was transformed into an inviting space for the tasting event. Tables were adorned with crisp white linens and centerpieces featuring miniature wrestling belts as a nod to Mercedes’ career. Guests mingled with curiosity as servers brought out trays of appetizers—some salvaged from earlier disasters, others hastily prepared last-minute replacements.

[At one table sat a well-known food blogger, who eyed Tomas suspiciously as he placed a platter of chicken wings in front of her with an overly enthusiastic grin.]

TOMAS
Fresh from the kitchen. Bon appetit.

[Tomas walks away without waiting for feedback. The blogger picked up a wing, took one bite—and immediately froze. Her expression shifted from curiosity to horror as she realized it was completely raw inside.]

INT. RESTAURANT KITCHEN – SAME TIME

[Back in the kitchen, Ricardo paces nervously while Irma tries to salvage her salted cupcakes by frosting them heavily with buttercream icing. Tomas leans casually against the counter, oblivious to any concerns about food safety or presentation.

Ricardo mutters under his breath.]

RICARDO
We're doomed.

INT. RESTAURANT DINING AREA – EVENING

[The tasting event was in full swing when Jorge’s article went live online—and it wasn’t long before guests began murmuring among themselves as they read it on their phones.

[Mercedes enters the dining area just as Carmen approaches her hesitantly.

CARMEN
Is it true? That this restaurant is just... some vanity project for you?

[Mercedes freezes, her stomach sinking as she realizes what has happened.
Spotting Jorge across the room chatting casually with another guest, she storms over to him.]

MERCEDES
JORGE!

[Mercedes glares at Jorge, holding up her phone with the offending article headline glowing on the screen: “From Wrestling Rings to Restaurant Dreams: Mercedes Vargas’ Next Big Move.” Jorge, standing a few feet away, looks up at her and blinks innocently. He quickly realizes she’s not in a joking mood.

The scene freezes as Jorge instinctively turns to bolt about to be chased by his very angry wrestler sister. Freeze frame holds as the scene fades to black, capturing the perfect comedic moment of sibling confrontation.]

• • •

Present Day ♦ LA S V E G A S, N E V A D A

[REC•]

[The screen fades in, showing Mercedes Vargas standing on a rooftop overlooking the Las Vegas skyline at dusk. The city lights twinkle behind her as she leans casually against the railing, her expression a mix of determination and defiance. Dressed in a sleek black leather jacket, she exudes confidence as the camera zooms in.]

"Las Vegas. The city of dreams, the city of stars. But on Sunday, at Inception, it’s going to be the city where history gets rewritten. You see, Song and I have danced this dance five times before. Two wins for her, three draws. And me? Zero wins. Nada. Zilch. That’s a bitter pill to swallow for someone like me, a two-time SCW Hall of Famer and multi-time champion.

"You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about this match. About everything it means—not just to me, but to Song, to the fans, and to SCW as a whole. This isn’t just another match on the card. It’s not just another chapter in our story. This is the chapter. The one that defines how this rivalry will be remembered. There’s something poetic about this match happening at Inception. The word itself means ‘the beginning.’ And maybe that’s exactly what this is—a new beginning for me when it comes to Song. A chance to finally close the chapter on this story where I’m always the underdog and start writing one where I come out on top."

[Mercedes smirks, adjusting her jacket.]

"I’ve heard it all before. The whispers, the doubts, the people saying, ‘Mercedes can’t beat her. She’s in her head. She’s outmatched.’ That’s fine. Let them talk. Let you believe that if it makes you feel better, Song. But here’s the thing about me: I thrive when the odds are stacked against me. I’ve built my career proving people wrong, and Sunday will be no different. You may have beaten me, but you’ve never broken me. And that’s the difference between us. You’ve had your moments, sure, but I’ve built a career on moments that people will remember forever. Championships, accolades, Hall of Fame inductions—those aren’t just handed out. They’re earned. And I’ve earned every single one of them."

[Mercedes crosses her arms, tilting her head slightly as a sly smile creeps onto her face.]

"But you? You’re just another name on a long list of people who thought they could keep me down. Spoiler alert: they couldn’t. And neither will you."

[Mercedes takes a step closer to the camera, her expression unflinching.]

"The thing about history—it’s not set in stone. It’s written by those who refuse to quit. And while you might have had my number in the past, Sunday is a new chapter, mamita. You may have gotten the better of me twice in singles competition, sure, but let’s not forget something important: every streak has an expiration date. And yours? It's overdue.

"Because this time, I’m not just fighting to win—I’m fighting to finally put an end to this narrative that you have my number. You don’t. You never did. What you had was opportunity—and on Sunday, I’m taking that opportunity back."

[She steps closer to the camera, her voice firm.]

"You may think you know me, but this isn’t the same Mercedes Vargas you've faced before. I’ve been through losing streaks, setbacks, and doubts—and I’m still standing. That’s what makes me dangerous. At Inception, I’m not just fighting for a win; I’m fighting to remind everyone why I’m one of the greatest Bombshells to ever step foot in SCW."

[Mercedes pauses, her tone softening but still sharp.]

"I’ll give you credit where it’s due, Song. You’re tough. You’re talented. You’ve earned your spot in SCW. But come Inception, none of that will matter because I’m walking into that ring with one goal: to finally put you down and prove to everyone—and to myself—that Mercedes Vargas doesn’t stay down forever.

"Because when that bell rings and we go toe-to-toe for the sixth time, I’m not walking into that ring as the same woman you’ve beaten before. I’m walking in as someone who has nothing left to lose and everything to gain. And trust me when I say this: that makes me more dangerous than I’ve ever been."

[Mercedes takes a deep breath, her tone softening but still carrying an edge.]

"So here’s what’s going to happen at Inception: we’re going to step into this ring one more time. You’re going to bring everything you have—every ounce of skill, every bit of fight—and it still won’t be enough. Because when that final bell rings and my hand is raised in victory for the first time against you? That’s when you’ll realize that history isn’t just rewritten—it’s redefined. And that I don't just rewrite history... I make it."

[Mercedes turns away from the camera, looking out over the city as the wind catches her hair. Her voice carries over her shoulder as she delivers her final words.]

"See you Sunday, Song. Bring everything you’ve got—because I’m bringing everything you can’t handle."

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

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

[The camera lingers on her silhouette against the glowing skyline before fading to black once more.]

[***Fade***]

L O N D O N, E N G L A N D

[The soft glow of neon lights spills into the bustling lobby, where Mercedes stands at the front of the line with her friends, the air thick with the buttery scent of popcorn and the sweet aroma of candy. Ricardo, Irma, Hugo, and Tomas exchanged glances, each sharing in her enthusiasm as they moved closer to the ticket counter.]

MERCEDES: Okay, guys, this one’s supposed to be epic. I heard it has more twists than a rollercoaster. They say you’ll never see the ending coming. It’s like a wild ride that keeps you on the edge of your seat.

[Ricardo leans in, intrigued.]

RICARDO: Are we talking plot twists or just a lot of chaos?

MERCEDES: Both. I’ve heard it’s got action, suspense, and enough surprises to make your head spin. You’ll be guessing until the very last minute.

IRMA: Just don’t scream too loud during the scary parts; we don’t need you embarrassing us in front of everyone.

HUGO: Yeah, remember last time? You nearly jumped out of your seat.

[Ricardo, leaning against the wall with a playful grin, shakes his head.]

RICARDO: As long as it doesn’t have a plot twist like last time. I’m still trying to figure out what happened in that ending.

[Irma stands with her arms crossed, rolling her eyes in disbelief.]

IRMA: You just need to pay attention. I can’t believe you didn’t get the symbolism.

[Hugo is munching on popcorn and scrolling through his phone, casually indifferent to the pre-movie chatter. He chuckles softly and leans back, a smirk on his face.]

HUGO: Or maybe he was just too busy texting during the best parts.

[Ricardo shoots back with a smirk.]

RICARDO: Pot. Kettle.

MERCEDES: Did you see how I dominated in my match? This is what a little hard work and a lot of adrenaline gets you.

TOMAS: A little hard work? You had to win a submission match. Pretty sure that took a lot of work.

IRMA: I’m just glad you didn’t end up in the hospital this time. Remember last year’s match? That was wild.

[Just as they reach the front of the line, Tomas steps up to the ticket clerk.]

TOMAS: Five tickets for the new action movie.

TICKET CLERK: That’ll be $50.

[Tomas' face falls as he realizes he only has a crumpled five-dollar bill in his pocket.]

TOMAS: Uh, can I pay in charm?

TICKET CLERK: Charm?

[She leans slightly closer to Tomas, her expression clearly questioning his choice of words. She has a playful smirk forming on her lips.]

TICKET CLERK: Is that what you’re banking on to get into the movies tonight?

[Irma rolls her eyes playfully, a mock exasperation dancing across her face. She leans back slightly, crossing her arms as if to emphasize her disbelief.]

IRMA: Seriously, Tomas? Charm doesn’t pay for tickets, genius.

[As she shakes her head, a smile breaks through, showing that she’s more amused than annoyed. It’s a classic Irma move—part sarcasm, part encouragement—and it perfectly captures the playful dynamic of their group. The laughter around them only fuels her jest, making the moment all the more memorable.

Hugo chimes in with a mock-serious tone.]

HUGO: Don’t worry, man. I’m sure the movie will accept ‘good looks’ as currency.

TOMAS: Five tickets for the new superhero movie.

[The ticket clerk raises an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and skepticism crossing her face.]

TICKET CLERK: Which superhero movie?

TOMAS: Uh... the one with the guy in the suit?

MERCEDES: You mean every superhero movie?

[At that moment, Ricardo, eager to help, leans in.]

RICARDO: Yeah! The one where they save the world or whatever!

[The clerk chuckles.]

TICKET CLERK: That narrows it down to about fifty films.

[Just then, Irma pulls out her phone.]

IRMA: Wait! Is it this one?

[She accidentally plays a loud trailer for a romantic comedy instead. The whole group bursts into laughter as people in line behind them start giggling.]

MERCEDES: Definitely not that one. But it might be more fun than whatever Tomas was thinking.

[Amidst the laughter and playful banter, they finally settle on a movie—after a few more hilarious attempts to remember titles—and the ticket clerk shakes her head with a smile as she hands them their tickets.]


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

[REC•]

[Mercedes pauses her nail file, glancing up with a playful smirk as she addresses the camera directly. The sunlight streaming through her chic Los Angeles residence highlights her poised demeanor, and she leans forward slightly, engaging her audience.]

"You know what I like about triple threat matches? Not only do I get to face two opponents, but I get to face two opponents at the same time, and it doesn't get better with the opponents I stood across from the ring most recently.

"I don't need to tell you that the better woman won at Violent Conduct, but then when you really think about it, it wasn't such a bad night for yours truly, considering that I ended whatever notions Prudence Pierce and Bobbie Dahl had of walking out of London at my expense. It was fun—well, for me anyway. As a matter of fact, I had so much fun that I couldn't stop talking about it on my flight back home. I almost expecting Prue and Bobbie to have some excuses ready as they read them off note-cards this weekend."

[She chuckles softly, shaking her head as if the thought amuses her.]

"That said, I guess this is the perfect time to mention my golden opportunity this weekend when I step into the ring against Victoria Lyons for the Bombshell Roulette Championship. And credit where it's due, she deserves her flowers. Last weekend, she and her cousin won the World Mixed Tag Titles against the Wolves of Gheimhridh. Do you know how hard it is to beat Finn and Kayla? Let me repeat that: Victoria and Eddie Lyons were able to beat not only two accomplished performers, but the world champions of the men and women's divisions, the best that SCW had to offer in very little time. When you're able to pull off something like that, it definitely means you're going places, and to be honest, I'm looking forward to being in the ring with Victoria. She probably won't feel the same about me, but I'll manage."

[As she exhales slowly, a flicker of determination ignites within her, illuminating her resolve.]

"Believe it or not, people pretty much know my story already; they think they have me all figured out. I’m sure you’ve heard the narratives, or maybe you couldn’t care less. But let’s be real—you have a sense of where I fit in the hierarchy. There are the super-talented wrestlers, those who are simply "good," and then there are those who will never measure up—the ones who just aren’t in your league. I understand why some might think the odds are stacked against me, and that’s perfectly fine. Competition only makes me stronger, and I like to think I excel by playing to my strengths."

[Mercedes glances at her reflection in a nearby mirror, taking a moment to admire the fierce determination etched across her face. The lighting casts a soft glow, highlighting the intensity in her eyes as she studies herself.]

"One could make the argument pretty damn easily that Victoria Lyons was lucky to still be undefeated before she fell from the unbeaten at the go-home show to Violent Conduct at Climax Control 405 against Luna. Nonetheless, she narrowly escaped Bella Madison at Violent Conduct with some late heroics to get out of London without losing the Bombshell Roulette Championship to our hard luck New York native. So it stands to reason why Vicki is now in a clearly tough spot this weekend.

"Now, don’t get me wrong, Victoria has talent. She wouldn't have lasted this long if she wasn't. But, see, talent alone won’t cut it. It’s about experience, cunning, and knowing how to play the game, and I've been at this game long enough to know that every match is a chessboard, and I’m always three moves ahead."

[Mercedes pauses, a playful smile creeping onto her face.]

"It's not just about who hits harder; it’s about who plays smarter."

[Mercedes pauses to apply a fresh coat of polish, her confidence radiating.]

"This Sunday, I stand on the brink of history—90 wins in my SCW career, poised to tie the record for the most Bombshell Roulette Championship reigns as a five-time champion. What’s that? Oh yes, Victoria, I’ll gladly add your second defeat to your record.

"Now, granted, the last time I saw you really wasn't a memorable experience. You defeated me once, but only because you seized an opportunity during a chaotic match. The Ultimate X Over the Pool wasn’t just about me; I was exhausted and at my weakest. If it hadn’t been for Alexandra Calaway, I would have faced you instead of Bella Madison in the end. Like I said, not a pleasant experience.

"That was two months ago, and yes, I carry a grudge—so what? Here’s the deal, Victoria: I won’t fret over it any longer. This isn’t something I’ll be worrying about for much longer. I’m coming for that Bombshell Roulette Championship, and I won’t let you slip away again. You have my full attention now. There will be no distractions between us—just you and me in that ring, no excuses, no interruptions."

[Mercedes leans into the camera, her eyes blazing with intensity as she delivers her next powerful statement.]

"Just like these nails, I’ll be sharp and flawless when I step into that ring. I'm as focused as I've ever been, and for you? For you, Victoria Lyons, this Sunday on Climax Control, I'm planning on making this match short as a favour so you make it before bedtime. Take the opportunity to strategize, develop your game plan, and get in some training. Watch a few tapes of my previous matches if you think it’ll help. Do whatever you need to do to get ready. Bring that fighting spirit of yours, and don’t forget to say your prayers and take your vitamins."

[Turning slightly, she runs a hand through her hair, the movement fluid and deliberate.]

"You've been riding high on that overinflated ego of yours for far too long. I'm going to puncture it, deflate it, and leave it in tatters. They say history is written by the victors. Well, I'm about to write you out of the history books entirely. Your chapter in this company is coming to an abrupt and painful end. And I'll make sure it's footnoted with "couldn't cut it when it mattered most.""

"You’ve had your victories, sure, but those victories don’t define you—they merely set the stage for your next challenge. And I am that challenge. I’m the one who’s going to challenge everything you think you know about competition.

"I’m not just fighting for a title; I’m fighting to solidify my legacy in the Bombshells Division. And let’s be real, the fans expect nothing less than a show-stopping performance, and I plan to give them one they won’t forget."

[She leans back, crossing her legs elegantly, exuding a calm confidence that contrasts with the intensity of her words. The camera captures her poised demeanor, a stark reminder of the fierce competitor she is.]

"Victoria, your words reflect desperation more than truth. You may flaunt your crown, but remember, it’s not just about titles; it’s about legacy. I’ve built mine over decades, and while you sip wine in a bathrobe, I’ve been in the ring earning respect. While you’re busy calling me a relic, let’s not forget that relics hold history. They tell stories of battles fought and won—stories that shaped the very foundation of this company. The roads you've traveled are the roads I paved for entitled bitches like you to have a shot at greatness. I walked so you could run.

"You want to call me yesterday's news? You’re right. I’m yesterday’s news, today’s news, tomorrow’s news—and I’ll be Sunday’s news too, at your expense.

"Since you like to claim how I'm so analytical in everything, analyze this: Whatever plans you have for Sunday, I suggest you find new plans. Better yet, cancel them. Let the air out of the balloons, hold off on the streamers and that huge banner, and put that champagne on ice, mamita, because you’re going home empty-handed and one title lighter than when you arrived. This story isn’t going to have a happy ending."

[She sets down her nail file and leans forward, her eyes sparkling with unwavering determination.]

"You think you’re better than me? You go on ahead and try to convince yourself and those fans just that. I don't necessarily think you are, but I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and we'll see if you're right. In fact, I'm going to hold you to that. So lace up those boots one last time. Savor that walk down the ramp. Because once you step through those ropes, your world as you know it ends. And a new nightmare - one crafted by my hands - begins."

[With a final flourish of her nail file, she adds a smirk before her voice softens.]

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best."

[Mercedes stands up again, striking a pose as if she were already in the ring.]

"And may the odds be ever in your favor."

[***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***]

[As the roar of the crowd faded, Mercedes Vargas made her way backstage, her night in Inglewood, California now over after her intense match with Roxi Johnson. She couldn't help but feel a mix of disappointment and determination despite the outcome. The clash between these two SCW veterans had lived up to expectations, showcasing their skills and rivalry.

The electricity was in the air even as the landmark 400th Climax Control in history was still ongoing. The crowd was buzzing with excitement after witnessing the clash of titans that unfolded between Mercedes and Roxi. Even with the momentum Mercedes had entered with coming into the night, this latest setback against Roxi just two weeks before she challenges for the Bombshell Roulette Championship at Summer XXXTreme raised questions about her chances in the upcoming championship match, where she will face multiple competitors in a high-stakes environment. She knew that Roxi would be a formidable opponent, but she also knew that she had what it took to win. That did not happen this night.

While her recent setback may have shaken her confidence, Mercedes has the experience and skill to bounce back. Mercedes knows she'll need to regroup quickly and focus on overcoming this defeat to compete effectively against multiple challengers at Summer XXXTreme in her quest to reclaim her status as a top contender in Sin City Wrestling.]

• • •

[Irma's apartment was filled with the lively chatter of guests milling around as they gathered to celebrate her housewarming. She beams with joy, seeing Mercedes, Ricardo and Tomas just arriving. She welcomed them with open arms.]

IRMA: I'm so glad you all could make it! Thanks for helping me break in the new place.

[Ricardo looks around approvingly.]

RICARDO: Of course, we wouldn't miss it! Congrats on the new digs. Nice place.

[Mercedes envelopes Irma in a warm hug.]

MERCEDES: Seriously, this is amazing. You deserve it after all your hard work.

RICARDO: This could change everything.

[Irma smiles, touched by her friends' kind words.]

IRMA: Thanks. It's been a journey, that's for sure. It's a little scary, to be honest. But I'm ready for the challenge.

[Hugo raises a glass.]

HUGO: A toast - to Irma and all her success!

[Irma clinks her glass against the others, then they all take a sip.]

IRMA: Thanks, guys. I couldn't have done it without you. Here's to the next chapter.

[They all laugh and clink their glasses together, the air filled with a sense of celebration and boundless possibilities.]

IRMA: So, what's new with you, Mercy?

[Mercedes glances around the room, a hint of excitement in her voice.]

MERCEDES: Well, I probably shouldn't say anything yet, but...Summer XXXTreme is coming up. I hear the Sun Princess is perfect this time of year.

[The group erupted in gasps and excited chatter.]

TOMAS: No way!

RICARDO: I'm planning on being there, of course.

[Irma nudges him playfully.]

IRMA: Hey! You were going out of town, remember?

RICARDO: True, but plans change, right?

MERCEDES: Maybe we can convince you to stay. It’ll be epic!

TOMAS: Exactly! The Sun Princess is calling our names!

[Mercedes raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips.]

MERCEDES: Plus, think of all the fun we could have together as a group.

TOMAS: We didn't have that during the pandemic.

MERCEDES: I’ll get the details and we can make it a group thing!

IRMA: This is going to be the best summer ever!

[The scene fades as the friends began to discuss their plans for the upcoming adventure. The anticipation of Summer XXXTreme on the Sun Princess filled the air with a sense of camaraderie and joy.]

• • •

Present Day ♦ S A N T A M O N I C A • C A L I F O R N I A[/u][/font]

[REC•]

[Mercedes Vargas stands confidently in front of the camera, her intense gaze piercing through the lens.]

"So, it's finally happening. The Ultimate X Over the Pool match for the Bombshell Roulette Championship. Victoria Lyons thinks she's got it all figured out, but she and everyone else in this match are in for a rude awakening."

[Mercedes gave a cold, calculated smile, her eyes blazing with determination.]

"Alexandra Calaway and Bella Madison? They're tough, no doubt. But neither of them has my experience in these extreme conditions. I've been in more Ultimate X Over the Pool matches than you can count, and I know how to turn the tide. The key to winning this match is adaptability. We're not just dealing with the Ultimate X structure, but also the added element of the pool. It's a whole new ballgame. Victoria, Alexandra, Bella - they're all formidable opponents. But they're also obstacles in my path to greatness. And I've never met an obstacle I couldn't overcome."

[Mercedes knew that the Ultimate X Over the Pool match at Summer XXXTreme was more than just another fight - it was a chance to cement her legacy as one of the greatest wrestlers of her generation.]

"We've all been through hell and back to get where we are. Each of us has our own story, our own journey. But let me make one thing clear: this isn't just another match. This is the Ultimate X Over the Pool match for the Bombshell Roulette Championship, and it's going to be a war. This match is going to be brutal. It's going to push us all to our limits. But when that final bell rings, when the dust settles, there's only going to be one woman standing tall with that Bombshell Roulette Championship. And that woman is going to be me, Mercedes Vargas. And why am I so confident? Because confidence isn't just thinking you can win, it's knowing you will. And trust me, I've never been more certain than I will be in two weeks."

[She took a step forward, her gaze unwavering.]

"Victoria, you may be the current champion, but titles are meant to change hands. You've had a good run so far since your debut, but your time at the top is coming to an end. Because in a match like this, it's not about technique. It's about survival.]

[She shifts her focus.]

"Alexandra, you've been in SCW for over a year now and while you've had success so far, now you're really beginning to see just how good the women's division here is. While you see me as sneaking my way into another title match, you can say it's almost unfair. I see it as earning my way. I've lost only twice in my last six matches. You've lost in the Blast From the Past Tournament final at Into the Void, lost back-to-back title matches, and your most recent win was against Harper Mason - with help from Julianna DiMaria. Sounds unfair, don't you think?"

[Her eyes narrows as Mercedes addresses the last of her opponents.]

"And Bella Madison, you’re the wild card in this match. Your unpredictability makes you dangerous, but that hasn't help you much in your career, has it? You call yourself the Belle of the Brawl. Funny how you're always the bridesmaid and never the bride. Seems to me that's about to be the case again, mamita. You're already see yourself holding the championship high, the crowd chanting your name, a symbol of her hard-fought victory and the promise of more to come. You've been on this mission to finally bring a singles title around your waist for five years now, give it take. Well, if at first you don't succeed, right?

[Mercedes puts her hands at her waist, a smirk on her face.]

"This is my match to win. So bring on the Ultimate X. Bring on the pool. Bring on the competition. Because I'm ready to make history one more time."

[Mercedes words hung in the air, her unwavering confidence and determination palpable.]

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

[***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 2 al 9 de junio de 2024

12 years in a row. Yours truly will be at Into the Void for the 12th year in a row. That's the longest streak of anybody - and I mean anybody - who has ever graced a Sin City Wrestling ring. There's a reason why I have a 12-year streak at Into the Void: because I'm dependable, I'm reliable and, oh, yeah, I am the pay-per-view ironwoman in SCW, and nobody comes even close.

While confident, I haven't forgotten how badly this year has been for me. That realization has kept me grounded and it will take another weekend of heroics to play spoiler at Into the Void. I stumbled out of the gate this year, but I think I've got my groove back. I beat that one-trick pony, Crystal Zdunich, my so-called best friend, three weeks ago. And before that, I became one of the few women in SCW history to beat Tempest one-on-one. Bella Madison, Bobbie Dahl, Seleana Zdunich, Alexandra Calaway. That's the only names who has pinned Tempest's shoulders to the mat. You can now add Mercedes Vargas to this list. The one in 5-1. The one who handed Tempest her true loss in 2024 and her first loss in SCW in five months. Everybody said I was never good enough to be in the ring with her. I wonder if Tempest has a different opinion of me now? Seeing is believing, though I'm almost sure she didn't like what she saw.

As Into the Void draws near, the Bombshell Internet Championship match will be one of the sought after matches on the supercard. The very real danger I could possibly face on Sunday isn't lost on me. I can sense the doubt. That I've already squandered two title opportunities this year, including the last opportunity I had against Tempest for the title, is noted. The fact that I've been chasing the Bombshell Internet Championship for some time and continually drop the ball probably has some people up in arms about this title match, whether I deserved it or not. Wouldn't surprise me at all. The reason why I'm hated is not by accident. It's not because of my undeniable talent and it's damn sure isn't because of my title reigns and accolades.

While I'm among the taller women on the roster, there's still a handful of female wrestlers like Tempest who have a few inches on me in height. Tempest has size and strength to her advantage. I've seen what she could do to some of the other Bombshells in the four years since she joined SCW. The moment any opponent stepped foot inside the ring, chances are they're going to be in for a long evening. And if she wanted to, if she really felt like it, she could throw you like a lawn dart.

What have I got myself into? What was I thinking, attacking Tempest at Blaze of Glory? I kept replaying that night from two months ago in my head over and over. Tempest appearing backstage just after securing another title defense. The sound of the steel chair making a sickening thud against her skull. Me standing over her lifeless body. Referees, security and other wrestlers pulling me off of her. And, yet, those questions were  running through my head after I did it. I've been turning these questions over in my mind in the weeks since then. Every action has consequences and I'm ready to face them. In the sea of mediocrity, I'm just keeping my head above water. But then again, it all goes back to that saying: If you're born to be hanged, you'll never be drowned. At this point, whatever happens at Into the Void will be worth it.

And so it all comes down to this. It doesn't get any bigger than this. Under the bright lights, on pay-per-view, the entire world watching an irresistible force facing a movable object. A dominant champion defending against the wiley veteran that everyone and their dog loves to hate. Makes for a great storyline, doesn't it? Tempest may be bigger than most, but she still has to look up because I'm the mountain she has to climb to make it in the Bombshells Division. My legacy is bigger than hers and while they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, you know something? I think I'm getting stronger everyday. I have to be, if I'm going to beat her again.

I don't care that you share the opinion of everyone in this company, I don't care how confident you are, I'm that much more. I'm willing to do whatever I have to, whatever it takes, whatever is necessary within the rules to keep you down for three seconds, make you tap or knock you the hell out, just because I can. Some of the women in the division, the very same ones that are more notorious that I am in speaking their minds, think that what I've been saying is nothing but words. Whether my words ring true or you tune me out or maybe you just don't give a damn - and I like to think it's the second option, otherwise you all wouldn't be so butthurt over what I've said in recent weeks - I'm not going away anytime soon, mamita. And there's only two things you can do about it. Nothing, and like it. At Into the Void, Tempest, you're going to learn a valuable lesson: I'm not just the standard, but the exception to the rule.

Do I care that I'm not liked or that nobody wants anything to do with me? Not really. And why should I? Whether you love me or hate me, you can't help but watch me. And this Sunday, Tempest, in your homecoming match, the world will be watching and waiting and wondering how you are going to get out of this one.

Congratulations on reaching 100 plus days as champion this week, it's the only thing you'll be celebrating during your reign because while I may be walking in as challenger, I will be walking out the new Bombshell Internet Champion.


4 de junio 2 0 2 4 ♦ L O S A N G E L E S, C A L I F O R N I A

[A crackling sound is heard, played from a vintage transitor radio, about the size of a toaster with a simple design. A hand reaches to tune through the stations. The fingers grasp the dial, and with a gentle turn, the radio begins to scan through the frequencies until the sound is crisp and clear.]

RADIO: 75 degrees and sunny with a low of 62. Your favourite music, on your favourite radio, Los Angeles' own KLAR!

[Resident Bombshell and two-time Sin City Wrestling Hall of Famer Mercedes Vargas has a lot to smile about in a year that left nothing to smile about. The doubters, critics and naysayers would be quick to remind her of that. A picture is worth a thousand words. After her string of victories in SCW to close out the month of May, she only needed four words.

I told you so.

It's a warm evening and Mercedes and her friends were gathered at Ricardo's house. They are gathered around a pool table, cue sticks in hand].

HUGO: Class is in session. Whose ready to get schooled today?

TOMAS: You're all going down. I've been practicing.

RICARDO: Alright, who's breaking?

IRMA: I'll do it.

[Irma breaks the rack, balls scatter across the table].

RICARDO: Nice break! Stripes or solids?

MERCEDES: I'll take solids.

TOMAS: Guess that leaves me with stripes.

HUGO: Let's do this!

 [They begin playing, with the friends trash-talking and jostling for position around the table. Tensions rise as the balls are sunk, and the stakes seem to grow higher with each shot.]

IRMA: I can't believe the year is almost over. Where has the time gone?

MERCEDES: I know, it's crazy.

[A few minutes into the game, Hugo steps back from the table twirling the cue. He sinks a ball but misses the next shot.]

HUGO: Dang, thought I had that one.

IRMA: We've all changed so much, but our friendship has stayed the same.

MERCEDES: Definitely. You guys are like family to me.

[Mercedes stands at the pool table, cue in hand. She lines up a shot, draws the cue and strikes. The cue balls veers wildly off course missing her target completely. She shakes her head, disappointment etched on her face.]

MERCEDES: Dammit!

[Ricardo takes his shot. He strikes the cue ball with precision as two nearby balls smoothly roll into separate pockets. He stands there with a satisfied grin.]

RICARDO: Boom! Who's the pool shark now?

MERCEDES: Show off.

[She playfully shoves Ricardo, pretending to be offended.]
 
TOMAS: Remember that time we almost got caught sneaking out to that concert? I thought we were getting arrested for sure!

[They all erupted in laughter, reminiscing about their antics and inside jokes. Tomas leans on his cue, staring intently at the table as he considers his next move. He carefully lines up and sinks a tricky shot.]

MERCEDES: I'm so grateful we've stayed so close. These moments together are the best.

[The others murmured in agreement, feeling lucky to have such a strong bond. They spent the rest of the evening swapping stories, offering advice, and simply enjoying each other's company. No matter how much time passed, their friendship would always be a constant in their lives. The game continues, with friendly trash talk and laughter.]

[Mercedes takes a sip of lemonade. Then she leans over the table, lining up a shot.]

MERCEDES: Okay, I've got this. Just watch me sink this 8-ball.

IRMA: (Scoffing) You're gonna scratch again like last time.

[Mercedes glares at Irma.]

MERCEDES: I did not scratch! The table was crooked and you know it. Don't be a sore loser.

[Mercedes and Irma settle into a heated argument before Ricardo steps in between them, trying to calm the situation.]

RICARDO: (Chuckling) Easy there, ladies. No need to get all worked up. It's just a friendly game.

HUGO: (to Ricardo) You kidding? This is the best part (yells to the girls) Come on Mercedes, show Irma how it's done!

TOMAS: (to Hugo) 20 bucks says Mercy scratches.

[Hugo shakes his head, smirking].

HUGO: No way, she's got this.

MERCEDES: (takes the shot but misses) Ugh!

[Laughing mockingly, Irma lines up her own shot, confident.]

IRMA: Told you! Now let a pro show you how it's done.

[Irma takes the shot but the 8-ball rolls into a side pocket.]

IRMA: Nooo!

MERCEDES: Yes! In your face!

[Grumbling, Tomas begrudgingly hands Hugo the money.]

MERCEDES: (to Irma) Looks like I'm still the pool shark around here.

IRMA: (shoving Mercedes) Shut up! It was a fluke.

RICARDO, HUGO, TOMAS: Ooooh!

[Mercedes shoves Irma back, not backing down.]

MERCEDES: Was not! You're just a sore loser who can't admit I'm better than you.

IRMA: (shoving Mercedes) This was supposed to be a friendly game of pool.

MERCEDES: Yeah, friendly. Until someone's ego gets bruised.

[Ricardo slams his cue stick on the table, having had enough.]

RICARDO: (stepping in again) Alright, alright, break it up you two. Let's just play another round.

[Hugo grins while rubbing his hands together.]

HUGO: Yeah, round two of the cat fight! This is getting good!

[Tomas elbows Hugo, frowning.]

TOMAS: Dude, not helping. You're just egging them on.

HUGO: What? Don't be such a downer, amigo. This is supposed to be fun, remember?

TOMAS: (Sarcastically) Yeah, because nothing says "fun" like a game of pool with a side of drama.

[The friends continue arguing and shoving each other as the scene ends.]


PRESENT DAY♦ OAHU, HAWAII

[REC•]

[Mercedes Vargas doesn't always go to Hawaii, but when she does, she never turns down the opportunity to travel. Oahu is the third-largest and most populous of the Hawaiian Islands, home to the state capital Honolulu and famous areas like Waikiki, Pearl Harbor, Diamond Head, and the North Shore surfing beaches. Mercedes is here in Aiea, one of the three surrounding towns in Honolulu alongside Pearl City and Waipahu also neighboring the Pearl Harbor memorial grounds. Pearl Harbor is where this weekend's Into the Void supercard takes place aboard the USS Missouri.

Mercedes has a lot to smile about ahead of her title match for the Bombshell Internet Championship this Sunday. The current champion is Tempest, who has held the title for an extended period of time. The war between these rivals started when Tempest made a dig at Vargas's recent lack of in-ring success. This led to Vargas defeating Tempest in a non-title match and then also defeating fellow Hall of Famer Crystal Zdunich. As a result, Vargas earned a shot at the Bombshell Internet Championship.]

"Aloha, Hawaii! Mercedes Vargas is here and I know you're all glad to see me. You folks sure know how to welcome a queen. But I didn't come all the way to this pineapple-infested rock just to work on my tan. I'm hear for business and pleasure."

[Mercedes laughs, clearly relishing her upcoming title match]

"I think things are starting to turn around. You win two matches in a row and you think you can beat anybody. My last match, though, I'm probably going to cherish a little more. Why? Because for the first time in what seems liked forever, I can claim a pinfall victory over Crystal Zdunich without wondering “what if'?, without second guessing myself, without a single doubt in my mind that there was a winner. You have no idea how relieved I am that our match finally had a definite conclusion. I can now sleep peacefully at night, counting sheep, and finally put to bed and put to rest this long, drawn out melodrama behind me. I can move on to more important things."

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

"Important things like Into the Void and making history one more time when I become the new Bombshell Internet Champion by beating Tempest. The woman who went unbeaten over five months in SCW without tasting defeat. Unfortunately, though, the streak had to end eventually. It ended because of me. So, now, Tempest is coming off her first loss in 2024, but if I know her like I think I do, she's going to come back better and stronger and hope to bounce back by retaining at the supercard. Against any other Bombshell, Tempest, this would be a walk in the park. I promise you, this match wont be."

[A cocksure smile creeps across her face as she soaks in the heat of the Hawaiian sun.]
 
"I've worked tirelessly to carve out my own path and establish myself as a force to be reckoned with in SCW. My success is a testament that I have the drive, the desire and the determination to be the best. I'm proud of my accomplishments and I no longer feel the need to apologize for the opportunities that have come my way. For too long I've been disrespected by every overhyped or two-bit mealy mouth Bombshell with an attitude, thinking I'm just a pretty face whose career has past her by."

[Mercedes shakes her head defiantly.]

"Not by a long shot. But keep thinking that. Keep believing that. Keto doubting me. Tell me I'm not good enough. Tell me I can't do it. That's just motivation for me to say that I can, and I will. You're looking at the future Bombshell Internet Champion. And there's not a drop of saltwater in these oceans that can drown out my unrelenting ambition!"

[She pauses, glaring at the camera as the ocean breeze whips through her hair.]

"I'm the reckoning you can't outrun. The force of nature you can't contain. And when I'm done carving my name in the history books, forget December 7, 1941. You're gonna remember this moment - June 9, 2024 - as the day that will forever live in infamy when Mercedes Vargas puts you, Tempest,  on notice. This entire island is one big vacation spot - it'll be a vacation for me when I put you on permanent vacation!"

[She pauses for effect, lowering her voice just above a whisper.]

"Estar preparado para lo peor, esperar lo mejor. Y que la suerte está siempre en su favor."
"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. And may the odds be ever in your favor."

[The scene fades on Mercedes flashing a smile and waving back at the camera before we fade to black.]

[The sun glistens off the shimmering waves as the sound of seagulls filled the air at the Santa Monica Pier. The smell of saltwater and sunscreen permeated the air, blending with laughter and music, creating a lively scene against the backdrop of the iconic Ferris wheel towering above.

Mercedes and Irma shuffle amongst the throngs of tourists enjoyying carnival games, street performers, and cotton candy vendors. Ricardo catches up to them.]

IRMA: Hey! How'd it go with the afterparty last night?

RICARDO: Great! Drinks were flowing, the music was nonstop and the crowd was hot all night long. Had to call in sick today.

MERCEDES: Didn't you call in sick yesterday?

RICARDO: I'm a bartender. I can take a day off if I want to. What can I say, I'm an honest guy.

MERCEDES: More honest than when you said you were vegetarian?

RICARDO: Okay, most of the time.

MERCEDES: What about when you said you could play Chopin?

RICARDO: Some of the time.

IRMA: Or when you said you're a great-great grandnephew of Abraham Lincoln?

RICARDO: I'm feeling judged right about now. Did you guys hear about the kidnapping at the park?

IRMA: No, what happened?

RICARDO: Oh, don't worry, he woke up.

MERCEDES: (rolling her eyes) That joke is so old.

RICARDO: Yeah, just like you, Merce.

IRMA: (laughing) Ouch, burn.

RICARDO: Hey guys, there's a new coffee place on the boardwalk. Let's try the new latte on the menu today.

MERCEDES: Sounds good, I could use a caffeine boost.

IRMA: I heard they also have delicious pastries.


Blog: Almighty Fire
semana del 28 de abril al 4 de mayo de 2024

Another weekend, another match, another loss on pay-per-view.

What else is new at this point? I'm angry. I'm fed up. I'll go as far to say that I'm mad as hell and I'm not gonna take it anymore. 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. Maybe I came in a little overconfident at Blaze of Glory, maybe I entered a little overprepared, maybe I took my match with Alexandra Calaway not serious enough. Really didn't matter...

Since the day I walked into Sin City Wrestling, I sacrificed everything to be one of the best Bombshells this company ever had. I didn't have a legacy like Roxi Johnson. Destiny didn't guide me to the top of the totem pole. That same heart and desire that some other girls who have came and gone through that door lacked, I had. Where are they now? That's right, the unemployment line, irrelevant or retired. Day after day, weekend after weekend, for over a decade in this company, I have proven to be more than just another name on the roster, I have proven to be more than just a pretty face, what sets me apart from some of the girls is that while I can show my ass, I can also KICK ass. I have proven to be a dangerous opponent on any given night in that ring. Nobody in this company - past, present or future - can say the same. Nobody. If that isn't sacrifice, then I don't know what else will convince you.

If all I needed to get by in this world was positivity and a “can do” attitude, I would be wearing a lot more championships.

Gone are the days where I used to be made fun of at your expense, Tempest. Sunday at Climax Control, I think our little story is going to have an alternate ending.

There will be flowers and music, but not from a lullaby...

it will be a funeral march.

Not mine, though.

Yours.

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


Present Day • S A C R E C O E U R - P A R I S, F R A N C E

[REC•]

[Keeping Sacre Coeur at her back while standing in front of it is an incredible view of Paris from the steps of Sacre Coeur at sunset. Mercedes admires the iconic landmark before she begins walking along the passage. Now and again, people riding bicycles pass by on the left of her, looking back before going about their daily business.]

"Hi, I'm Mercedes Vargas! You might have seen me on the runway, on television hosting various award shows and specials or as an actress in various telenovas, or even mixing it up in the wrestling ring as a Bombshell for Sin City Wrestling and other notable promotions.

"Oh, and I'm also a licensed lifeguard. OK, not really. But I did sleep at a Holiday Inn Express last night."

[Mercedes winks at the camera.]

"Ever had one of those days where you just feel out of place?You know, kind of like that last piece of a jigsaw puzzle that doesn't quite fit. But somehow, you try to force it to. That's how I feel about my match this weekend with Tempest. As you may have seen at Blaze of Glory, Crystal Zdunich most recently was turned inside out by Tempest's Amazon Prime finisher, which, according to four out of five doctors, has several side effects including nausea, head induced trauma and speaking in tongues. I hear Crystal is listed as day-to-day, but, then, aren't we all?

"Pause. Let that sink in."

[A strong wind picks up and tousles her hair, with strands of it ending up in her mouth. Mercedes brushes them aside as she continues down the path.]

"When I read the blurb leading up into this my match with Tempest this weekend, I was a little surprised to say the least. You can call me a catalyst… You can call me a victim… You can even call me a martyr. Do I have a death wish? You're damm right I do! So because Tempest was speaking of my name like she knows me, I'm supposed to be running scared, right? Uh-huh! I took the fight right to Tempest's door step and laid that bitch out with a steel chair in front of everybody. It felt almost liberating, especially seeing the dent that was left behind.

*I certainly wouldn’t want this to be all about me, but let’s face it, that’s what you’re going to get. Since we both know the results of who’s going to win, I guess we really don’t have much to talk about.

"Or do we?

*Fortunately for you, Tempest, I’m actually in a very good mood this weekend, and having you as my opponent, even better. Don’t get the wrong idea, I‘m not out to hurt you. The least that could happen is I'll probably break a nail...

Probably.

"The question I pose to you, Tempest, is what is it that you're going to do to me to stop me from beating you this weekend, hmm? What, are you going to powerbomb me through a flaming table? Are you going to suplex me off the top rope? Do your worst.

"I'm starting to see that fire in your eyes and I hope you bring that same attitude in our match. You had better, or you're going to find yourself already fighting a losing battle.

"Long before you knew and long after you remember."

***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***