Every Day Is Halloween Where I am From

The Syrian Bombshell of Sin City Wrestling walks down the city street as she makes her way home, the small hand of her little sister Larissa. Parand all but ignored the hostile stares of those whom she passed by, and how some passers-by who did not give such looks still managed to avoid passing her sister and herself too closely. It was a typical reaction that she was all but used to, and successfully ignored, but Larissa? Not so much?

Larissa: Why do they look at us like that?

Parand: Ignore them. Some people are just ignorant, and know no better when around people from our country.

And it was an unfortunate circumstance, considering Parand and her sister were as far from the "terrorists" that was mumbled beneath the breath of some they saw in every day life. To fools like these, anyone who was not born in America did not belong in this country. And if you were from a violent country with a bad reputation, then that reputation followed you as being one and the same. Many of these narrow minded individuals followed the mad rants of a power hungry individual in the White House, who shall remain nameless, stating that the borders should be closed and foreigners should not be allowed in this nation quite so easily.

The amusing part of that is that these very same people conveniently forget that they too came from another country, descended from immigrants who sought to escape from whatever conditions drove them generations ago. Whether it be war, poverty, or doctorial governments, their ancestors all wanted to leave and come to America for a better life. A better life that the new generation were enjoying and trying to deny others, all at the very same time.

Ignorance. This nation was filled with it and it was all just getting worse with that orange-faced pig  in office, spewing his hateful rhetoric's and his supporters were drinking up every word. He would even incite violence against his political enemies, and only a day or two ago, claimed ignorance when supporters attempted to send bombs to those very same enemies. "It was the fault of the media." He claimed, refusing, as always, to accept any blame for wrong doing on his part.

But time enough for such musings later. The previous day when the sisters had taken a taxi home to their apartment, they had passed a store with colorful and scary displays in the windows and just outside of the doors that had attracted young Larissa's attention. So when the little girl had begged her elder sister to visit the store, Parand had little desire to deny the request. What harm could it do? Halloween was not a holiday that was actively celebrated where she was from, nor the surrounding countries. No, in Syria, as well as nations such as Lebanon, Jordan, Palestine and Tu8rkey, they celebrated Eid il-Burbara.

Eid il-Burbara was their equivalent to Halloween, where one celebrated the Christian Saint and Martyr Saint Barbara who disguised herself from the prosecuting Romans who pursued her. It was believed that a miracle occurred for Saint Barbara, who ran through a wheat field to escape and the plants grew instantly to cover her path. The traditional food was called Burbara, which was a bowl of boiled wheat grains, pomegranate seeds, raisins, anise and sugar. It is offered to children who go from one house to another in costumes, the equivalent of our Trick or Treating. Although many children still did our version for sweets as well.

Even in the most war-torn districts of her country, the children were still able to pay tribute to the Saint,, singing songs and celebrating. It was as if much of the violence would take a brief hiatus for this tradition. Much. Not all. It was still a risk, and one that was too great for several families. Parand knew that before Larissa was sent to America to stay with her where it was safe -- safer -- that her extended family would not allow the young ones to go out for risk of kidnapping or something much worse. So little Larissa was anxious to go out Trick or Treating where she could again have fun and experience the simple pleasures of being a child.

Which was exactly why Parand had her brought to America in the first place. She just wasn't certain how successful a Syrian child would be welcomed along the streets at night, begging for candy and treats. Although her being in costume would work well for this, she supposed. Parand had already borrowed from Christian Underwood some Halloween-themed animation for Larissa. It would be a small added consolation.

Larissa: Wow...

Her young, brought chestnut eyes sparkled as they happened upon the store in question. It was otherwise empty year round but come Halloween, the company Spirit Halloween, took it over and filled it to the brim with holiday costumes, decorations, and much more to entice the consumer into spending more wealth than they had. Even Parand had to admit the attraction, the fun nature where one could hide in plain sight and just pretend.

In that regard, Halloween was as much a holiday for adults, if not more so, than it was for children.

Parand opened the door an Larissa sprinted inside, her youthful eagerness for anything new to experience somewhat infectious.

Parand: Larissa! Slow down!

She chided her sister but it did little good as Parand herself could not held but smile from beneath her Niqab. Larissa's head turned in every direction, looking up, down and everywhere in between. She took in all the delightful sights of frights. She gazed at the makeup and costumes, and her warm, brown eyes widened at the displays of faux skeletons, witches by their cauldrons and zombies. Much of this would never be found in Syria, and even Parand had to admit there was a thrill to being frightened in an innocent way.

Clerk: Can I help you?

Parand sighed, an annoyance building up inside of her. It always started out like this. Fake courtesy from store clerks but one that just screamed they wanted you in and out of their store as quickly as possible.

Parand: My sister simply wished to see. We do not have stores like this where I am from.

The clerk nodded, then a smile spread on his face.

Clerk: Are you taking her out Trick Or Treating?

Parand: I have not decided.

She gave the thought some pause, then continued.

Parand: Although it is quite likely. I have a hard time telling her no.

To this, the clerk smiled in a genuine way which surprised her. She saw no discomfort on his own young face, nor in his eyes which she was usually able to read as easily as an open book. He rested his forearms on the edge of his counter and watched as Larissa ran up to a rack of colorful costumes and her small hands ran along the soft fabrics of many a Disney Princess replica.

Clerk: It'd be a shame not to take a cute kid like that out to get some candy. It's just the one time a year where you can get all the sweets you want and not feel guilty about it.

Taking in these words, Parand turned and saw as Larissa's excitement drew some attention from others in the store, and few of them were negative. It was almost as if her sister's introduction to this holiday was drawing both sympathy and adoration from some of those around her. Quite the contrast to the usual feeling of disdain and hostility Parand had come to expect.

Larissa: Parand?

Parand's head turned to her sister who shy approached her, holding onto the colorful yellow costume of beauty, from Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Her small fingers held the hanger but she did not touch the costume itself, as if she were afraid she might break it somehow, or if it were wrong to touch it period. Larissa looked at Parand but did not ask. She did not need to, although her sister suspected she were afraid to ask for something when Parand already gave her so much at the expense of herself.

Parand walked over to Larissa and in her hand took up the helm of the lovely costume and looked at the price tag.

$59.99 Not as bad as Parand might have expected from such a novelty shop as this. Parand looked up, and something in her own eyes made a smile spread across Larissa's face....

---

Many families would take their children to "safe" Trick or Treating events earlier than the traditional door to door event on October 31, although many would go out at this date as well for the added fun. Parand was no different, and on December 26, she took Larissa in her delightful Belle costume, stood along with  many other children at a Home depot, sponsored by the North Las Vegas Police Department.

She watched carefully as Larissa, all smiles and giggling at the clerks and police in their own makeup and costumes, dropped treats, popcorn balls, candy and the like into the plastic, pumpkin-shaped pail she carried in her arms. And not a single soul, child or adult, begrudged her for this one evening.

---

"So. SCW has opened its doors to refuse. Common garbage from outside. Trash by the name of Alicia Lukas. I am not surprised that this woman has set foot inside of our territory, already acting as if it were her own. Talking as if she is to be either the savior or destruction of what has been built upon for over seven years. She comes as a champion from elsewhere, but the amusing thing is she forgets a simple number of facts. Can you guess what they are, Alicia?"

"Well first of all, your past accomplishments in Honor are of really no importance. Not any more. Because this isn't Honor, it is Sin City Wrestling. And once the two became one, it was not your home territory that retained its name, but my own. Your past accomplishments, all that you have achieved? You may as well open up the window and watch it be cast into the wind because that is all it means to me. Who you are, or who you were, is a thing of the past in my eyes. As is your precious championship reign."

"Yes, I heard you boast on social media that your championship title was still active, but is it still important? Not by my reckoning. The only championships that matter now, are the championships bearing the emblems of Sin City Wrestling. Championship accomplishments I seriously doubt  will ever find a place on your mantle. You are too proud. You think too much of yourself. You walk into SCW as if you were a Queen, when your Royal Highness would be this close to being over thrown. Your self-imposed Kingdom is already on the brink of destruction, Alicia."

"I am but the first in a long line of rebels, ready to cast you out."

 The dusk slowly descended over the city landscape, slowly bringing the coming night to the city of Las Vegas. This was not the famed Las Vegas Strip that we visit at this moment in time. This apartment where we find ourselves is a few miles away from the hustle and bustle of the famed locale, in Northern Las Vegas but still able to look out from where you stand and see the lights of the casinos and sky reaching hotels in the distance. In fact, the woman we are showcasing here did, in fact, use to live in the area closer to those very attractions. However, once she had accomplished her goal of saving her little sister from the life she led in their native land of Syria, Parand Ara packed up, and with an assist from Mark ward, moved to a neighborhood away from the Strip so that her sister need not be exposed needlessly.

Larissa: But it looks so pretty from here.

Parand's sister, a mere ten years of age, gazed out from where she stood on their patio balcony at the Sunset Terrace apartments where they called home. It was a modest, one bedroom abode, where she and her sister shared the bedroom. The rest of the apartment was comfortable, with a few furnishings but not overly so. Such was Parand's way; not to waste space with trivial luxuries. The one luxury for Larissa that she afforded was a HDTV, with a Roku adapter. Her sister had taken quite the adoration towards American cartoons, and Parand knew she, like all women, had suffered in Syria so she wanted her to enjoy what she could. Parand herself rarely watched TV, and never watched the news. It was always full of stories that either enraged her, or confused her. Why a news report would have anything to do with the social lives of sports stars or celebrities confounded her.

News, should be news.

But Larissa could sit in front of the TV all day, if Parand would allow it, watching episodes of Spongebob, reruns of Looney Tunes and Disney movies. Lilo and Stitch was Larissa's favorite. She had watched that one countless times, and conned her sister by whatever means necessary to watch it with her. Not that it took much, mind you. Parand found cartoons wasteful, but even she found the little alien character Stitch amusing (and cute).

Parand stepped out onto the patio of their third story apartment and felt the warm air slip lightly across her, gently blowing the folds of her garment.

Parand: Come inside, Larissa. While your dinner is warm.

That being said, Parand turned and slipped back into their home, and with one final, wistful glance, Larissa walked inside as well.

Parand: Close the door, please.

Larissa: Oh!

Her sister stopped and turned around and hurried to the sliding patio door and slid it closed, and locked it as was Parand's preference. Even though they were on the third story of their building. One could never be too safe. As Larissa pulled out her chair and climbed into it, Parand proceeded to shut the drapes in the kitchen before she proceeded to remove the headdress of her garment, so that she might eat along with her sister but without risk of prying eyes from neighboring homes.

And no, we are not going to describe what she looks like. Modesty.

Parand poured Larissa a glass of milk, and the child eagerly grabbed it in her hands for a drink. Parand then poured herself one before she returned to the kitchen and returned with the evening meal; Freekeh with lamb, tomato stew and burgul wheat.

Larissa: Can we, sometime?

Parand: Can we what?

Larissa: See what you called the Strip. The lights look so pretty. I would very much like to. So, can we?

Parand was unsure of whether or not she wanted Larissa to be exposed to such a place, but then again, it was not all gambling and vices. That was just the predominant trait of the Strip. There were also tourist attractions, such as the wax museum and Sigfried and Roy's animal habitat. She knew Larissa adored animals and would love that in particular. Still, it was a risk.

Parand: We'll see.

Larissa smiled, knowing that a "we'll see" was closer to a yes than it was to a no. As the sisters continued with their meal, Parand's mind wandered to the child across the table from her, and the amount of luck she had in rescuing her from life in Syria when their parents had died. Life in Syria was intense and difficult, and if you happened to be a female, even more so. Personal status law dominated, and in accordance to Sharia, the courts always discriminated against women of all ages. Women have no say in their marriages, as all contracts were between the husband and the bride's father, and worse; marital rape was not recognized in their courts. Child marriages were not unheard of, and the threat pf such a thing, along with harsh living conditions, 9insecurity and the fear of rape would often lead to such marriages for girls as low in age as thirteen.

Parand would not allow it. She had wanted Larissa to come to America even before the deaths of her parents, but their father forbade it. When they died, Parand was Larissa's oldest living relative, with no males to govern her, and so she was finally able to win the legal battle to extradite her sister fro Syria to live with her in America.

Things were not perfect here in America. Even Americans would state it as so, especially with the current political climate led by the orange faced bigot in office. Even here, male politicians ant to try and tell women what they can and can not do with their own bodies.

Night had fallen, and the hour grew late. Parand had pried Larissa away from the television and gotten her ready for bed. The two sisters curled up beneath the blankets on the queen sized bed. They slept peacefully, with Parand's arms wrapped protectively around Larissa's body while the little girl ran her fingers along her older sister's wrist in her sleep.

She was safe. That was enough.

---

Parand: I welcome this opportunity to face such an established young woman inside of the ring. Courtney Pierce has proven herself a worthy opponent with her current standing, having won the Blast From the Past tournament alongside the reigning world champion. She is the number one contender in waiting, and I believe with my soul that the only reason she too is not a world champion here and now is because of her unfortunate injury.

I am proud to be the first opposition she has now in her return, but I will not let the respect I have for her get in the way of my defeating her. I will fight her with all I have been blessed with, and I will summon forth even more to walk away the victor. Courtney may have the prestige of having made history as a Blast From the Past Champion, and she may very well be on the path to becoming the woman to dethrone Mikah, but for now she has me to contend with. I hope her hand has fully healed, and this return is not premature, because I will target it and do whatever I have to in order to disable her. My hand will be the one to be raised when all is said and done.

Respect is one thing that must be earned, not simply doled out like a dish being served. And you have earned my respect Courtney. It just will not be enough to allow you to walk away from this one with your head and arm held high.

 Before Climax Control - 06/10/2018

Disney World. The Happiest Place On Earth. The Magic Kingdom. Parand Ara was uncertain whether or not the former was true, but the latter? From the moment she had set foot past the gates and onto Main Square of this the world's most famous amusement park, she believed she and the one at her side would be ridiculed and threatened, and that was what she felt so fiercely protective against. After all, the world of Walt Disney was about as American as baseball and apple pie, so how would it feel for the workers and pedestrians for someone from a war torn land as Syria to set foot on their territory?

As it would turn out -- nobody cared. Disney World attracted hundreds, if not thousands, the world over. Everywhere from America itself, to the rest of North and South America, Asia, Europe and yes, the Middle East. Parand's eyes were opened just a tad as she saw that she was not the only woman there in the same traditional garb of her religion. And nobody seemed to be caring about them either. It still did not dissuade her fears, or her paranoia. At least, not entirely. She still felt protective of the one alongside of her, and more than once cast a suspicious look back over her shoulder. As if waiting for something that never came.

That just seemed to be a piece of the magic that Disney was known for creating with its timeless atmosphere.

And just who was it that was at Parand's side, holding her hand, that had the Bombshell so on edge?

"And who do we have here?"

The British accent was unmistakable, as the more approachable co-owner of Sin City Wrestling, Mark Ward, approached with a smile, his handsome face acknowledging the elder woman but his bright and warm eyes fell upon the young girl that had just moved herself behind Parand's body, the better to shield herself away from this stranger.

Parand Ara: Stop that now. You do not need to be afraid of this one.

Mark had lowered himself to one knee to let the little girl see that he was not someone to be feared and put himself at her own level. He glanced up and smiled with sincerity.

Mark Ward: I'll take that as a compliment that I hope it was intended?

Parand nodded silently to him, and used her right hand to gently guide the small girl out from behind her. The child was dressed in a pink abaya, her face not entirely hidden as Parand's was. It was still obvious that she was intimidated by the man before her, as she bit her bottom lip and held her hands together at her waist. Parand lowered herself as well, placing reassuring hands on the child's slim shoulders.

Parand Ara: This is Mark Ward. Someone that I am fortunate enough to say is unique, and like few I have met.

And she meant it, every word. Other than Mark himself, only Ben Jordan seemed truly unlike most others in the fact they both displayed an utter lack of judgement against her or those like her. Mark himself was the one who had worked steadfastly to get Parand back inside of the ring.

Parand then turned to face Mark and revealed to him, as well as to us all, who this young one was.

Parand Ara: This is my little sister, Larissa.

Mark Ward: Larissa.

He repeated to himself softly. Mark did not offer his hand to the child, and it might surprise you why. Rather he placed his hand on his chest and smiled toward the girl, and her face lit up with a reluctant smile of her own. Parand herself was surprised by Mark's knowledge of the Muslim culture, that it was near prohibited for opposite genders to have physical contact with one another save for strict circumstances. Not just outside of the Muslim faith, but even within as well. Mark knowing this, and respecting it, was yet another reason for Parand and others to respect the famed world championship caliber wrestler turned proprietor.

Mark then stood up, as did Parand, and Mister Ward's words were for the elder sister.

Mark Ward: And, are you two enjoying the park so far?

Parand looked around her and sighed gently before she deigned to answer.

Parand Ara: Surprisingly so.

Mark smiled and he nodded.

Mark Ward: Good. Now you...

He directed his words to Larissa but pointed a forefinger towards her older sister.

Mark Ward: You show this one a good time, okay?

Larissa smiled and nodded, but still spoke very little. Mark winked.

Mark Ward: Good. And Parand? Try out the Haunted Mansion. It's a personal favorite of mine.

Parand Ara: We will. Thank you.

Mark started to walk past the two and paused, turning back. This time his face serious.

Mark Ward: If you need anything, you should be able to find me.

Parand nodded and Mark started again to leave when she held a hand up, and her voice brought him to a stop.

Parand Ara: Actually... there might be one thing...

Following Climax Control - 06/10/2018

People were in shock. Not the least Jessie Salco herself and most likely all that entailed her personal troupe who accompanied her on this (Fatal) Attractions tour in which Sin City Wrestling was currently embarking upon. Jessie's husband Shane and older brother Jake must have been stunned, as Jessie's over-inflated level of confidence did her little to no good as it was not their girl who walked away with the win, but the hated rival, the Syrian Bombshell, who stood at the end of the match with her hands held high.

And Jessie?

Well if you tuned in to Twitter for the usual post-show rants, you'd hear that she was nothing but excuses as to the loss. Typical.

But all of that was unimportant at the moment. Jessie's bravado was ill-founded. Her time was finished as far as Parand was concerned. The moment the closing bell sounded, Parand had taken her leave and headed for the backstage area immediately.

She could not allow Larissa to see her in her current state. Her attire had been torn and her flesh as well. As she entered the women's dressing area, she first allowed with much reluctance for the female paramedic to treat her wounds. Luckily she did not need stitches, but they would have to be treated carefully away from her sister's curious, childlike eyes later when they returned to their Disney resort hotel room. She then changed to a fresh outfit, a dark purple burqa with her face hidden as was the norm for her.

She walked gingerly through the area that had been cordoned off for the use of the SCW staff, until she found what, or who, she had been in search of. At a table sat Larissa with a Disney World themed coloring book in front of her and a scattering of colorful crayons on the table's surface. It was as Parand had requested of her boss; not to allow Larissa to see her match but to find a simple means of distraction. And Mark Ward had done her proud as Larissa simply adored coloring books. Mark kept about his business, looking over con tracts in hand and speaking hurriedly to staff that came to and fro, but not so much as to not be able to keep a close eye on the little sister of his employee.

It showed much of how much Mark Ward had matured as both a professional as well as an adult, being willing to do such a menial task as "babysitting" one of his employee's relation while continuing with his own never-ending duties.

She approached gingerly, the result of what her body had experienced against Salco, and Larissa looked up and smiled.

Larissa Ara: Parand!

Mark paused in reviewing another notice from one of SCW's agents to watch as the little girl forgot all about her coloring book and crayons to jump from her chair and embrace her older sister. He also noticed how Parand winced from the child's impact against her body which had to be racked with pain, even though she attempted to hide it. Larissa looked up at her and beamed.

Larissa Ara: Did you win?

Parand nodded.

Parand Ara: I won.

Larissa gleefully hugged her sister even tighter as Mark nodded, satisfied. He, of course, had watched the match on his laptop while Larissa was enamored with her crayons.

Mark Ward: Congratulations. Now, will you be sticking around for the rest of the show.

Parand Ara: Unfortunately, no. I'm afraid that Larissa and I have a previous engagement. One I promised her and afraid I can not back out of now.

She looked to Larissa and motioned toward the table.

Parand Ara: Get your things.

Parand then nodded with respect towards Mark.

Parand Ara: Thank you for helping me and watching after her. I appreciate it more than you know.

Mark Ward: Hey, she was no trouble at all.

He then smirked with just a hint of mischievous nature.

Mark Ward: And just what, may I ask, is this previous engagement?



Larissa stood in front of her sister Parand who kept her hands on her sister's shoulders, as they and hundreds of others lined the main Street to watch as Tinkerbell, with a wave of her wand, led a procession of near half a million lights....

---

Pigeon Forge, Tennessee - Now

If she felt out of place in Disney World, Parand Ara felt like an alien on the planet Earth as she sat at a table in the Dollywood amusement park. She knew this was no longer the "Magic Kingdom," and felt the hostile gazes of others on her as her eyes roamed from one attraction in eye view to the next.

Parand Ara: I like this place. The old world feel. The nature all around me. I wondered how I would feel given the flamboyant and flashy nature of the woman behind this place, but I can not deny the way in which she clawed her way up from the very bottom to be the success that she is now. That, in fact, is something to respect.

Parand drummed her fingers on the arm rest of the chair.

Parand Ara: Oh Jessie Salco, how clear your senses must be from perpetually having your head stuck in the clouds. Your ignorance has always been, and always will be, your own undoing. But the conceit of people like you -- the arrogance! You challenged me, Jessie Salco! You did it! You even insisted that the match be conducted under roulette rules, thinking it would be a mere additional advantage for you, given your track record in matches under the roulette rules banner. Only when things did not go the way you had assumed, you started to make the excuses that you have become so renowned for.

She held up her hands and spoke in a whiny voice.

Parand Ara: "Oh the match didn't mean anything! She only beat me because it was under roulette rules! She wouldn't stand a chance against me in a straight up wrestling match!"

Parand mimicked spitting and huffed.

Parand Ara: Everything you whined about on social media was in direct contrast to the facts at hand! Everything you blamed for your loss was by your own hand! You, just like the fool who wrote our match blog, stated that the victory against you was my first? Alas, no. Perhaps you forget Salco, that I had also defeated the SCW Hall of Famer Vixen in a match during our time so many years ago. And if I can score a victory against such a competitor as her, then against someone of your status was but a mere formality.

And as far as us in a straight up wrestling match?

She held her arms out in wonder.

Parand Ara: Anytime, foolish woman. Just ask for the match and it'll be yours! Then you will have no more excuses! But, should you not be more concerned with your former tag team partner? She, like many others, are slowly opening their eyes to your foolishness. If ignorance is truly bliss, then you must be the happiest woman on the face of the Earth, Jessie Salco!

Parand then paused in thought before she sought to continue.

Parand Ara: And what is next for me? Not at all what I had expected, or assumed. Aviana Faith.

She shook her head.

Parand Ara: I am amazed. I defeat Vixen, a former World Champion. I best Jessie Salco after she ran her mouth, and do I move on to bigger things? Possibly earning a title shot or at least facing upper level competition? No. I am instead booked against a newcomer, a child. Look at this girl who I face here in this rustic amusement park and tell me that I am wrong! Well, Aviana... if this must be, then it must. But know you this; I will not stand idly by and allow this disrespect to be a hindrance to me. You will suffer for it, not I. You enter this life of an adult, you a mere child, but you will be beaten and humbled. Where you thought to start a path to success, you will be forced to begin anew. And me? I will simply go forward, move on, and continue to the path from which I know I am destined to move ahead.

Much like your surname, Aviana, have Faith. It is all you have going for you.

 When led by a fool, the foolish become emboldened.

Never more could the Syrian Bombshell known as Parand Ara testify that truth than when she returned to the United States which was now under the leadership of the reality star Donald Trump. Trump, a man that pushed the limits during his campaign, using the foul stench of hatred and fear of the people of the United States to push his campaign for the Presidency to the winner's circle.

"Is she really going to fly on the same flight as us?"

"I hope they check her luggage!"

"If she gets on that jet, then I won't! I'll complain!"

She heard it all since she first set foot into the states, and as Parand Ara walked through the airport terminal, the whisperings only grew louder and more frequent, and the angry, distrustful stares more emboldened. Of course these ignorant swine would look upon her with such distrust, even when not warranted. Their leader, the orange swine, fed them everything they wanted to hear to justify the racism that was underlying the land, waiting to sweep the people up in its rampant path of destruction. Of course, that was only a matter of time. It wouldn't have mattered whether Hillary had defeated him in `16 or not.

Not that she stood a chance, really. She may have had the popular vote, from Parand's understanding, but the 'good ol' boys' in the Electoral College was not going to allow  woman in office. Especially one they could not control.

"Do they check who is under that hood?"

"What do they think they're doing, selling a ticket to a terrorist?"

Parand paused in the line for the security check, and turned her head and immediately knew the one who had uttered that vile insult. The older man, stomach hanging over his belt and jowls dangling comically from his neck like a turkey waddle, had the decency to flush having been overheard, yet he still stiffed his lower lip practically up to his nose in a faux sense of self righteousness. She stared him down, unafraid of the ignorant, until the line started moving again.

Parand paused to remove her slippers from her feet as everyone else were doing as they stepped up to the security scans, and placed her luggage on the conveyor belt to go through the x-ray.

Contrary to what some might believe or wonder, no. Parand Ara did not return to Syria after her wrestler career in SCW was cut short due to an undisclosed injury. It was one of the few, rare kindnesses she had been shown by the higher ups in the promotion, most notably Mark Ward. He had arranged for her to work behind the scenes as a production agent, showing a remarkable skill for the job that few appreciated. And even when SCW had temporarily closed its doors, Mark had laid groundwork at her feet to keep her employed so that she still not need return to the war-torn country.

She had no real need to return to the ring if that were her choice, but now with recent events in her native land, she again felt a need to prove herself. Plus, she was still fighting hard for a personal reason, for something left back in Syria that she wanted brought here. She could have went to Mark as he had been so forthcoming in his help, not that she desired or deserved it. This was something far more personal, something she and she alone would be responsible for.

"Excuse me, miss?"

Parand turned to the security agent at the end of the line, an older woman of color who gestured toward her bags.

Security Agent: "Could you step to the side, please? We need to check your luggage."

Parand bristled, as she lone had been singled out under the guise of a random check.

Parand Ara: "Of course you do."

She picked up her luggage case and followed the two agents, feeling the smug senses of satisfaction on the bigots still in line.

"What did you think would happen when you drew the short straw amongst your fellow... Bombshells, Seleana Zdunich? Did you do something to offend your superiors or the match making committee? The travesty you must feel, being set against the Syrian Terrorist inside of the ring! And a match to take place, where exactly?"

"In a den of debauchery, no less. In a place filled with drunken revelry where men force their attentions on the dancing, giggling fools that attract their lust with skin showing from top to bottom. Harlots who tease and titillate, then laugh at the poor fool's expense when they show their interest. Teases, they would be known as. Women whose tops are too low and skirts too high. Sluts who wish nothing more than to draw the eye to their bodies as a sense of satisfaction, knowing their are lovely and desired. Yet when you call them on their actions, they are affronted and offended."

"Call a slut a slut, and you become the guilty party."

"And then there is you, Seleana. The betrothed to the reigning Internet Champion, a title that now more than ever falls into the realm of obscurity. The soon-to-be-bride of Crystal Hilton, or is it Christina Rose? Is she even certain any longer? Bottom line, engaged to another woman."

"However, your own path to destruction is hardly my concern. What matters most to me is what lies immediately ahead of my own two feet; you, inside of the SCW's six-sided ring. The first to soon fall before me as I begin my path to showing the ignorant, the light. To show that loose breasts and open legs are a path of filth so many women rely on to get their way and get ahead in the world. Consider yourself lucky, Seleana. For even your God required a sacrifice every now and then. For me, you are my very own means to an end."

"And I do appreciate your generous contribution."

The security agent handed her luggage back and Parand pulled it hard from their grip and turned to move further into the terminal, ready to take flight and head to Nevada.

"Let the first casualty be brought forward."

 With fear breeds hatred.

It is a sad truth about life as we know it, but these words could not ring any truer. If you have any doubts as to the nature of this small note of fact, just take a look at the news in the world around you. The actions of the few punish the lives of the many. People will look on from afar and judge you for the actions of another and feel perfectly justified in doing so. They see a group of a certain nationality rob a bank or mug a helpless old woman waiting at a bus stop, and immediately it is the fault of all. People grow to fear a certain trait or aspect of a certain race or religion, and immediately the entirety of that group is being persecuted when they did no wrong nor brought any harm to a single person.

Are you still in a disbelieving nature? then perhaps you should take a closer look at our own surroundings here within the annals of Sin City Wrestling.

This weekend was one of unusually high anticipation for Sin City Wrestling, as they return home for not just a traditional show in their home turf of Las Vegas, Nevada -- but this event is one of special importance. This edition of Climax Control is going by an all-different moniker of 'Sunday Night Seduction' and for this special evening, it's all in the name of charity.

This week, it's Ladies Night for the SCW Bombshells who are stepping into the ring en masse for a special cause; to raise funds for the Breast Cancer Research Foundation. Every penny made this evening, from ticket sales to food and even merchandise, is all going to this noteworthy cause. All of the women who are making their mark of the world of independent professional wrestling via Sin City Wrestling have volunteered their time for this event, and are glad to have done so.

All save for perhaps, one.

This brings us to why we started this promo off on a more dour topic of conversation. It is how things are to begin for us. You see, this was actually to be Parand Ara's second time in Las Vegas itself. Her debut match against Jessie Salco did not go as planned, as despite the fact she clearly dominated Miss Salco from the opening bell, her luck ran out. She grew over confident and Jessie emerged victorious in the end. The taste of defeat to that girl left a bitter after taste in Parand's mouth. One that she was determined to rinse clean and wash away with the satisfying tang of victory over the woman known simply as Vixen.

Parand entered the small Las Vegas cafe, the soft chime of the bell hanging over the door telling the owners that they had a new customer in their midst. Eyes turned, as was the nature of curiosity, and Parand found herself meeting some openly hostile glares of some of the patrons who were seated at the few tables offered, and others who were waiting for their own orders.

Undeterred, Parand met their stares with hard ones of her own as she stepped up toward the counter. She had grown up in harsher environments than this by far and to her own mind, had been treated lesser by a far better class of bigots than the company she was presently in the midst of.

"Was there something I could get you?" The young girl behind the cafe counter asked almost immediately. This came as something of a surprise to Parand, who it seemed the younger generation was somewhat more hospitable than their elders.

Parand turned to her and said simply, "Large tea."

The girl started to turn away when a man standing off to the side of the counter, waiting for his own order perhaps, spoke aloud, "How do you plan on drinking that? Don't you have to take off that hood of yours?"

"Jason.." Hissed a girl at his side, clearly his girlfriend.

"What?" The aforementioned Jason sneered, paying no mind to his girlfriend's obvious flush of embarrassment. "I just asked a simple question."

His girlfriend shook her head and turned away to shield herself from his embarrassing actions and he turned back with a smile on his face but frowned as he saw that Parand was paying him no mind. To many that would be a signal to let matters be, but not this narrow minded fool, apparently.

"Hey." He said as he tried to get her attention. "Hey!" He stepped up and tapped Parand on the shoulder but she turned swiftly and shrugged his hand from her shoulder.

"Do not touch me!" Parand warned.

"Hey, bitch!" The man replied with a darkening frown. "I asked you a simple question. No need to be pissy about it. I guess that's just in your nature!"

He turned back away from her and skulked back to his girlfriend who was hiding her eyes behind her hand and he muttered, "Fucking terrorists..." Beneath his breath but deftly enough for Parand to overhear.

The girl behind the counter placed the cup of hot tea on the 'bar' between herself and Parand, who slid the currency over the counter toward her when a voice piped up;

"Are you kidding me!? You're actually serving someone like that in here!?"

Heads turned and a woman in her middle years but did not let that stop her from wearing clothing that was too tight and too revealing, standing at her table with a number of equally affronted patrons.

"Excuse me?" The clerk asked but she had no time to say anything further than the woman stormed up and was in the midst of what appeared to be a full on tantrum.

She shrieked, "My friends and I come here to relax where we shouldn't have a care and you're actually serving someone like this..." She motioned her hand toward Parand who simply picked her tea up in her hand and settled back against the edge of the counter to calmly watch this woman cry out against 'her kind'.

Truth be told, she found it somewhat amusing the sheer level of hypocrisy people like this bestowed upon themselves without even knowing it.

"Ma'am," The clerk started to say. "She is a customer..."

"She's a god damn terrorist!" The woman cried out. "Her people are terrorists! I would never let one of them..." Again, motioning toward Parand as if she were not there. "...in any business that I own."

"And what business would that be?" Parand spoke up in a casual tone to her otherwise thick Syrian accent. "One of the fabled local brothels of Las Vegas? Alas, no." She held a hand up. "If that were the case, then you obviously would be out of work and homeless on the streets."

The woman slowly turned her head to stare at Parand, her eyes wide at the audacity of this woman speaking down to her. The woman's mouth worked like a fish, opening and closing but saying nothing aloud.

"Bitch!" She finally managed to say and she turned and stormed away as her friends, each with equal amounts of disdain and disgust on their self righteous faces. They gathered their name brand handbags and drinks and started for the door, but not before their 'ring leader' turned back and shouted, "I am a good American!"

As they exited, they almost ran right into a certain buxom brunette that fans of SCW were most familiar with. Miss Rocky Mountains stepped inside after watching the exiting troupe for a brief moment and she then closed the door behind her.

This left a brief silence in the wake of the outburst, but the clerk finally managed a meek apology that Parand practically ignored.

"They did me a favor." She said simply as she walked across the cafe and had a seat at the recently vacated table.

Everything started over what many are calling a simple accident; a misunderstanding. Was it, in fact, either of those things? Perhaps, but frustrations were on the rise as Parand was yet feeling the sting of that embarrassing loss, while in Parand's own mind, Vixen was gloating over her own victory; taking a little backstage break following her win for a cup of coffee and paying no mind to those around her. She carelessly splashed her drink onto Parand's robes, soiling them, so Parand simply answered her in kind and then some.

Women such as Vixen sickened her.

"Was that something that I should ask you about?" Rocky asked in what she hoped was a tender tone. She disliked Parand's openly hostile outlook on the average female but she was a professional who sought to do her best at her job.

"If you so desire." Parand shrugged. "It does not mean you will get an answer."

Rocky frowned at Parand's icy tones and even from the confines of her garment, Rocky could hear the sigh of exasperation and see the Syrian roll her eyes dismissively.

"It was nothing out of the ordinary, I can assure you that." Parand finally broke the uncomfortable silence between them. "Just another example of bigotry at its finest."

Parand noticed Rocky shift uncomfortably in her chair. Ever since this new recruit to the Bombshell division showed up on their door step, things were tense and awkward. few knew how to address her, or if they even wished to.

Parand stated, "If we are going to do this, then kindly get on with it. You obviously have questions that you wish answered."

"I do." Rocky admitted. "I just ... I'm not altogether sure where we should begin. The obvious starting point would be this weekend's special charity show, and your participation which admittedly caught a great deal of people by surprise."

"And why is that?" Parand's eyes narrowed. "Do you not think I have a heart? Do you think I am unable to recognize a worthy cause when I see one before me?"

"No, its just..." Rocky started to say but Parand interrupted her.

"Just because I am what people refer to as a 'Godless heathen' does not make me ignorant to the woes of the world around me!" She scolded the buxom reporter. "I know of the ravages of cancer. My own mother died young from breast cancer."

"I'm sorry." Rocky stated with honesty.

Surprisingly, Parand took no offense and simply nodded her head. She went on, "I was asked if I would take part and I agreed. I have no desire to wallow about in the muck like some pig as obviously the males of this country find such a thing, titillating. I am not endeared to the thought of any of this... disgusting displays of flesh. Why we could not hold an honorable show for the same cause is lost to me. yet I have agreed and my word is my honor. I will take part, and this time I will emerge victorious."

"Against Vixen." Rocky stated the obvious. "A woman who you attacked only weeks ago."

"A woman who disrespected me." Parand 'corrected' her. "And furthermore, a woman who sorely needs to be brought down a peg from the pedestal she placed herself on."

"A lot of people think you over reacted to what was a simple accident." Rocky reasoned.

Parand asked, "And are you one of them?"

"It's not my place to judge, Parand." Rocky shook her head. "I'm just trying to do my job."

"Indeed." Parand said as she leaned back in her chair. It was clear by her tone that she did not entirely believe the words coming from the reporter's mouth. "Then do allow me to put your mind at ease. Whether the actions of Vixen were an accident or not is a thing of the past. My own were not. We are in the present, and the future holds nothing pleasant for miss Vixen."

Rocky said, "She is a former champion several times over."

Parand scoffed, "Which is just going to make her fall from grace even higher when she gets defeated. A lesson learned."

Parand stood up, taking hold of her cup of hot tea and leaned in closely to Rocky who leaned back and away. "She  will simply be the first."

Parand then left without so much as a farewell. The door swung closed behind her and Rocky ran her fingers through her long, dark tresses and let out a relieved breath.

She said, "They don't pay me enough to go through this!"