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Supercard Roleplays / Re: FIRE & FURY v ZDUNICH SISTERS - WORLD BOMBSHELL TITLE
« Last post by Seleana Zdunich on January 10, 2026, 12:40:12 AM »
Off-Camera


Room 114
Luxor
Las Vegas, Nevada
Friday, January 9, 2026
8:01 PM PST





Zenna Zdunich walks back into her room and nods to her phone. Smiling back at her is Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström. Zenna grins and falls into their native Swedish.

Zenna Zdunich: (How are the girls?)

Lovie smiles back.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (They miss you, but they enjoy crawling around with Lucy.)

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: (I will be home soon.)

Lovie looks over and her smile grows.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (Little SG is crawling over to Lis' bass.)

Zenna's smile matches Lovie's at hearing about her daughter's activity.

Zenna Zdunich: (She might follow us into that.)

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (They all like the music. They all get upset when the music stops.)

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: (They have been that way since birth. They would hear us practice and rock out like it was the greatest thing ever. They love when Li sings to them.) 

Looking to the left.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (Morgan Ash is heading for the drums. Livvie and Lissy are chasing after Lucy.)

Zenna chuckles.

Zenna Zdunich: (They never catch the dog. Lucy just knows how to evade them.)

Lovie nods.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (What condition will you be in when you return?)

Zenna shrugs.

Zenna Zdunich: (I make no hens out of feathers, I expect we will all be beaten severely. Mercedes deserves it. That's Christina as well. I'm certain they would say the same for us.)

Lovie sighs.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (Seleana agrees with this?)

Zenna shrugs.

Zenna Zdunich: (Seleana does not know what she thinks about this matter. She wants her family but does not know how to cut through everything. To the devil in hell, Mercedes deserves to be beaten severely. This all started with her. I still do not know what she hoped to gain from this. She got her beard stuck in the breadbox, now she shit in the blue locker. Christina hopes to clean this up but she will not slide in on a shrimp sandwich.)   

Lovie nods knowingly.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: (Mercedes has always sounded like a cunt.)

Zenna nods emphatically in agreement with this assessment.

Zenna Zdunich: (She is a fucking cunt. There is no cow on the ice, she will get what is coming to her.)

Lovie nods as Little SG crawls up to her. She scoops up the toddler and nods at the camera and screen before her.

Lovisa "Lovie" Vikström: Say hello to Mamma,  Darling.

The little girl sees her mother and squeals.

Stacy Guinivere:  Mommy!

Zenna smiles at her daughter.

Zenna Zdunich: Hello, Little One!

The toddler reaches for the screen.

Stacy Guinivere:  Mommy come home?!?

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: I will be home soon. I love you, Älskling.

The call ends as Lovie's sister, Ingrid, comes in to get the little ones into the other room for a feeding. Zenna nods and looks at the door.

Zenna Zdunich: That is why we fight…






On-Camera


Room 114
Luxor
Las Vegas, Nevada
Friday, January 9, 2026
8:55 PM PST





The camera opens on Zenna and the Swedish redhead nods knowingly.
   
Zenna Zdunich: Mercedes, fitta!

She glares into the camera.

Zenna Zdunich: Christina, I don't know why you stay by her side. She put you on the spot and told you she was more important than your wife.

Zenna shakes her head.

Zenna Zdunich: Nothing is more important than your family!

Looking so annoyed she might spit, Zenna shakes her head in disgust.

Zenna Zdunich: You throw away your family, how do we know you will not throw away your sobriety?

Zenna glares incredulously at the thought.
 
Zenna Zdunich: And for that?

The disgust boils over.

Zenna Zdunich: Fitta not worth that!

Again, Zenna shakes her head, unable to believe this is real.

Zenna Zdunich: Fitta!

She looks back up into the camera.
 
Zenna Zdunich: Fitta deserves nothing.

She nods and points to herself.

Zenna Zdunich: We will give you what you deserve, Mercedes!

She nods gravely.

Zenna Zdunich: You cannot run forever.

Zenna glares even more harshly.

Zenna Zdunich: Time waits for no one, not even you…

She nods.

Zenna Zdunich: But Wildside does!

Her glare intensifies even more.

Zenna Zdunich: It is time!
2
Supercard Roleplays / Re: FRANKIE HOLLIDAY v AMELIA REYNOLDS
« Last post by Frankie Holliday on January 09, 2026, 11:56:51 PM »
We live to create memories.

And then we make our own story up

I just began to wonder the other day

Is anyone ever the bad guy in their own story?

Just a weird thought.

I know I'm the hero in my story.

The struggle was real.

And sometimes you get caught up and you need to take a breath.

That's what I had to do in Sin City Wrestling.

And many times in my story.



Levi and I had made a lot of money robbing people.

We always justified it as doing what we needed to do to survive. We were homeless. We were jobless. Who’s going to hire two homeless people? That’s not how the system works. So, we gamed the system a little bit. We made a little money, and now, we had just about everything we needed.

But along the way, the whole idea of breaking into a home, stealing stuff and leaving without being noticed, became such a thrill. The Christmas fiasco wasn’t what we planned for sure. Maybe Glen was a little personal, but none of the others ever were. We weren’t ever out to hurt anybody. We just needed a little help. Help that people were obviously not willing to give. So, in some instances, you have to take. That’s all.

But sometimes people get hurt. That’s life. Levi and I did our best to avoid it, but sometimes you can’t. I didn’t want to see that grandma get pistol whipped. I didn’t want to shoot the dad. But… it’s what happens sometimes. Collateral damage. Oh well.

Levi was far more invigorated by actually doing the stuff, and then encountering resistance. He loved that. He wanted that to be something we faced. I just gradually understood that Levi was a violent person when push came to shove. He wouldn’t hesitate to beat the shit out of someone, or kill them if it came down to it.

Levi had been in jail and prison a couple of times so he understood the risk, but could not resist his nature. He would lash out, but most of the time he was fine. Laughing and joking, he made me very comfortable in every way. He always took care of me, comforted me when I needed it. There were a couple of times after the initial time we robbed someone that I would throw up out of the anxiety of it all, and Levi was there to hold my hair or ensure I was okay each time. That just made me feel so secure.

It was always a thrill especially because we were always so good at it. Robbery became an artform. In and out, no witnesses, and just taking shit and moving on. Especially when it made the news.

“... Another robbery in the Northern Los Angeles area is being reported to police. The victims say the lock was picked and estimates put it as nearly $20,000 dollars of goods were stolen. This makes the 8th similar break-in in the past year, and police are still searching for clues to help them find the suspects.”

Levi and I were watching at a small diner and couldn’t help but smile at each other.

“We made the news” I whispered in between bites of burger.

“I know. Exciting isn’t it?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Now we were celebrities. Minor ones, but in LA? In Hollywood? We were more popular than some actors and actresses even if people didn’t even know our names. Levi had a satisfied grin on his face, eating a grilled cheese sandwich and some soup to dunk it in. We sat there, eating in silence, knowing a whole city, even one as big as Los Angeles was now concerned about us.

And we were hiding in plain sight.

“You think this is how Richard Ramirez felt?”

“Who?” I asked, confused.

“He was a serial killer in the ‘80’s, broke into people’s houses.”

“Oh. I mean… I guess.”

“You think that’s why they do it?” He asked.

“Why do you do it? Why do we do it?”

“For money.” He answered.

“That’s true.”

Levi was looking up and watching the screen, but the only information was about how efficient we were. And police asking for any clues or information to be given to them. Levi began to ponder things as he sat there. I could always tell when he was thinking about things like that. He would cock his head to one side.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Maybe we did too much too fast.”

“You want to slow down?”

“I think it’s going to get hot. 8 is a lot in a year. I think we should lay low for a while. You know? It’s not like we don’t have the money. But I think we need to get out of here.”

“Out of here?” I questioned.

“Yeah, I have an uncle who lives in Arizona. We could go down there, start over and maybe take a bit of a break. Let them think they won.”

“But we’re good, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but… you can’t chance these things. We’re ahead. Let’s pause now, so that we stay ahead.”

“If… if you say so.”

I have to admit I was little bummed out by the idea of just quitting while we were having so much fun. It was successful, but deep down, I knew he was probably right about playing it safe and being cautious. Maybe going out like Bonnie and Clyde wasn’t the best idea. We had a lot we could accomplish, and this is what Eddie and I did before. You have to know when you have to pull it back and take a breath, otherwise you end up making a mistake, getting caught. We knew the police didn’t have any suspects, but it wouldn’t be long before somebody, somewhere spotted us. Even if it was on accident, and this could snowball out of control.

It didn’t mean I was a fan of it. I was very much enjoying robbing people. In a way I felt empowered by it. My superiority complex was shining through. I was a master criminal. I couldn’t be caught. We were just good at this shit that nobody could touch us. I wanted very much to keep going. Let’s make this shit work. Let’s go until the wheels fall off.

But, sometimes, you need the reset. We weren’t going to escape forever. We would be tracked down. Hunted. We’d be on wanted posters or some shit. And as cool as that sounded, it just wasn’t smart.

So, before you knew it… we were headed to Arizona.

At least this wasn’t another reset.

It was just a pause.


I must say that I am hurt, Amelia. Really. I am hurt that you would say all the mean things you said about me and all that.

Whatever it was, it was rude, and painful to listen to. I'm sure you got me good and I am sure I would maybe never recover emotionally had I been listening.

Because I don't need to listen to you.

You on the other hand, I'm sure are sitting there, taking copious notes and from what I started to listen to. You think you got me figured out.

And to that, I say: What took you so long?

I have been telling you exactly who I am for a long time. Since the day I got here. I’ve been sharing my story, and giving you insight to me through my words. I haven’t hid or tried to tell you I’m something I’m not. I’m not trying to fool anyone. I’m a piece of shit person. I’ve lied, I’ve cheated, I’ve stolen, I’ve begged, I’ve threatened, I’ve shot, I’ve stabbed, I’ve used, and I’ve abused. I have done terrible things in my life and I justify them by telling you I was also a victim so that makes it okay.

I have never asked for sympathy for my position. I don’t want it.

I have just become the person who speaks the truth on many things, and people don’t like that. People like you, don’t like that. So what do you do? You get mad and you judge me. You get mad and call me names. Because folks like you have a hard time accepting the truth. Because I am an uncomfortable truth. People don’t want to wear that shoe, even if it fits.

I have embraced who I am. I’m not a good person. I haven’t been a good person for a long time. I just recently tried very hard to make that change, turn the corner and free everyone from the long, boring title reign of Kayla Richards. I did that and I wanted this to be an open and even playing field. Earn your matches, earn your spots. I did that and what do I have to show for it?

Nothing.

I got to wear the trinket for about 6 weeks. But there was so much more that could have been done. And at the end of it, you, Amelia, would have benefitted from it. You really would have. I wanted to make this equal. No more people popping up out of nowhere and taking random title matches while people like you busted their ass to gain ground. No more hopping the line because of who you are, or who you know. It was about what you did.

And now, look where we are! Look at what happened! Crystal whoever wins and then boom, random title match for Seleana.

Amelia, you can’t tell me that you don’t see a problem with that. You said it yourself, you’ve only lost like 3 matches or whatever. Don’t you see how ridiculous it is that Seleana, who hasn’t done anything of value in years to this point, is now competing for the trinket?  Don’t you feel like it should be you?

If I still had that, this could be a title match. This match here. Do you not want that? I get it, you’re the new popular toy so you don’t see it. You don’t understand it yet. Once you get the shot, and if you lose, you will be right back in this spot. And hoping and praying your hard work rewards you with another random shot, because after you lose, they will 100% drop you like a bad habit.

This is what I was fighting to change. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to like me, but that is what I am fighting to change. Order amongst the chaos. That is the beauty of this whole thing,

But, I now have people like you, telling me shit I already know about myself like it’s some kind of big revelation in order to make it seem like you’re better than me. 

Which is a strange flex, But go off queen!

Please explain to me how you are better than me, Amelia. What I did was history making. I made people stand up and take notice. I shot straight to the top and snatched the top prize from the dominant champion and beat her at her own game. I did all that, and you have…

Won some matches.

Well that’s cute. And, it’s almost like, you would have earned something if I was still at the top. I don’t see this as a testament of how far I’ve fallen, because I know how it works. When you reach the top, there is no place to go but down. And when you fall, you fucking fall hard and you fall fucking fast.

I could have insisted on a rematch, but I did not. Because that would mean I would be violating my own rules that I set. The rules, the guidelines I wanted for this and every division in Sin City Wrestling. Earning your keep. Not just wishing and hoping at one point someone throws you a bone.

So I look at what could have been, and see how they tried so hard to strike me down and put me off in the corner. I had to be removed from the scene, Amelia. I had to be taken down. I fell because they had to ensure I did. And I have fallen far. But look who’s sitting here next to me.

You.

It’s a true testament to how slow your rise has been without them backing you. A win here and I’m sure you’ll shoot up the rankings and get some kind of reward. But you’re supposed to be “the problem” right? Well, what is the problem with the problem that the Problem herself cannot get up the rankings despite your impressive win-loss record?

What is going on?
Why are you lagging so far behind?
Why can’t you rise like you should be?

You can’t tell me you haven’t had ample time, Amelia. You don’t want to be a liar do you? You don’t want to be in the same class as me, do you? So please, enlighten me as to why you aren’t a champion in Sin City Wrestling right now. You’ve wanted me to listen to you for a long time, right? So I’m all ears. What’s the problem?

I can’t hear anything, I’m sorry.

But it’s okay. I’ve lost the last few matches so therefore I should be easy pickings, correct? You’re catching me at the right time to beat me and then you’ll really be the problem you think you are. It’ll all be great you’re telling yourself. Because you see me as lesser. You see me as the bad guy of the story.

We all see ourselves as the hero of our own story. I know I do. I have overcome a lot and did what needed to be done for my survival. It was never pretty. Never sunshine and rainbows, but I am a hero in my story. A survivor. A battle-tested, battle hardened survivor. So therefore, anything good that happens is because I deserve it. It’s my reward for having such a tough time.

But unlike you, I also understand that I deserve anything bad that happens as well.

I’ve made poor choices, selfish choices, and I’ve ruined some lives here and there. I probably gave some shitty blowjobs in my life and stuff. I’ve done bad things to good people and good things for bad people. But I’m fully aware that those things happened, and when karma comes to collect, I accept it.

Can you say the same, Amelia?

So if you can’t, then I don’t want to hear shit from you about how I am as a person. The only difference between me and a great majority of people, is that I wear my ugliness on the outside proudly.

I learned that from my surrogate parents.

Which is another thing that you and a whole host of others want to dwell on. I don’t bring up Amber Ryan or Jason Cashe for clout. I don’t bring them up at all really. It’s all of you, who stalk my social media and see my talk to them. We share a bond that is special. They taught me, showed me through their actions to embrace being myself. Embrace that sometimes your hands have to get dirty and I don’t need to fucking pretend they are always clean.

You do the dirt, it gets under your fingernails. It gets into your skin. You do the dirt and it’s always gonna be there. And I’m fucking filthy, Amelia.

But it’s still really odd that you, and others continue to bring them up like I’m going to bring them to fight my battles, or defend me from the likes of people like you. No, my mom and dad set the table for me to sit at. And made it okay to accept being dirty. You all really don’t want my mom to come back, do you? You don’t want Amber back here. You might think you do, but you don’t. So, if I were you guys, stop addressing them when you talk about me. I’ve already run roughshod this division once without anybody’s help.

I mean, if you really, really want my mom to come back, I guess you can always just ask her.

But I think you are all much better off if there weren’t two of us taking over this company instead of one. It’s just food for thought.

Besides, why spoil all the fun we’re going to have Amelia? Why mess it up when there’s so much for us to do? You see, it doesn’t matter where this match is on the card, it doesn’t matter what is above or below us. All that matters is us. No one is fucking interested in the sham of a Bombshell’s title match. Do you care? No, you don’t. No one does. This match, this match here is the most important one on the card, and it’s not even for a trinket.

That’s the power that I have amassed already.

People want to see if you can hang with me, not the only way around. People want to know my next move. What I’m going to say and what I’m going to address. And I made it that way. It wasn’t my mom, it wasn’t my dad, it was me. I have taken this company and made it interesting again. I have you all guessing if my mom will come back and I don’t even talk about her. I am just that interesting.

You, on the other hand, are just the flavor of the month and have some wins and they really, really want you to take the next step. They want you to rise and be on my level. But there’s nothing special about you. You are no different than Harper Mason or Alexandra Calloway. People who are just… here. Irrelevant to the entire SCW roster. I already carved out the biggest piece for myself. I am a threat to every single one of these women and that’s why they are sending you my way.

And you’re going to fail at stopping me.

You want to have this dance, then fine. I will not accept any responsibility for doing bad things to you. You provoked this. You wanted this. You poked the bear. And now, you’re stuck with the consequences. I was going for Cassie Wolfe really. I was going for something to wet my appetite. But here you are.

So be it.

When this is over and you fail, when you are still right where you are, and I continue to make the move to get back to the top, maybe then you will truly understand me, my goal and what I’m trying to accomplish. Until then, you are just in the way.

And that’s not a place you want to be.

Trust me.

See you soon, sweet cheeks. It’s going to be a good time.
3
Supercard Roleplays / Re: FIRE & FURY v ZDUNICH SISTERS - WORLD BOMBSHELL TITLE
« Last post by Crystal Zdunich on January 09, 2026, 11:49:09 PM »
Off Camera

Christmas had gone exceptionally well with a visit from her longtime best friend Zelda Knite. However Crystal knew that Sunday would quickly come upon her and she could have traveled into the town that Inception was going to take place at but she wanted to do some last minute training on her own. She stood downstairs in her home gym and just sat on the top of a corner turnbuckle as her eyes went upon her World Bombshell Championship that was draped in the center of the ring. Her arms were crossed as she let out a long sigh. She slowly leapt off of the ropes as she walked over to the center of the ring and picked up the title and held it tightly in her hands. Before she could even speak or say anything, footsteps were being headed in her direction. Crystal turned around and that is when she saw her daughter Brittany Williams walking towards her in her training gear. The petite woman just crossed her arms as she glanced over at her mother.

Brittany: So are you ready to train?!

Crystal: To be honest Brittany, I don’t even know if that’s what I really want to do tonight. I rather just focus on reflecting on everything.

Brittany nods her head as she walks over to her mother and embraces her with a tight hug. She looks up into her eyes as she begins to speak.

Brittany: I get it. This match is causing your mind to go through a lot isn’t it?! I couldn’t even imagine what you are going through.

Crystal: To be honest I really don’t know what the right decision is in all of this. After Sunday I know that I am going to be in a place where I will make both the right decision and the wrong decision. I have been fighting with myself since this match was announced and I don’t know what I want at the end of the day. You know me Brittany. You know how much my wrestling career means to me. You know all about the lengths I would go to win and defend this very championship. It is my lifeblood and my heart beats to have all of the attention, the glitz, the glamor, and of course the fame. It goes hand and hand with who Crystal Hilton is…

Brittany: You don’t have to remind me. I have seen the way you have stabbed people in the back just to hold that World Bombshell Championship. Family isn’t even important when it comes to the title. As long as you are champion that has been the only goal of Crystal Hilton and let those be damn who think they can come in the way of her.

Crystal nods her head with a slight grin as she keeps her focus on Brittany.

Crystal: That is definitely a true statement. Crystal Hilton only cares about being the best and stomping all over those who she feels is a threat or doesn’t measure up to her as a competitor. However as I stand here and look at the championship I realize that I hate everything that Crystal Hilton stands for. Being Crystal Hilton reminds me of being married to your father and we both know that eventually only led to a life of being a severe alcoholic and drug addict. Crystal was created from the inside of a broken little girl who was afraid to stand up as Christina. Crystal represents putting on a facade of a costume, tons of makeup, and being one with Hollywood where I could run away from the person within and be the woman who I thought could get by.

Crystal begins to let some tears hit the ground as she takes a long deep breath. The tears steadily begin to flow from her eyes as she cannot even contain them at this point.

Crystal: Lately I have found myself not really trying to care about who Crystal Hilton is. I know that’s something that is really going to upset Mercedes because she has been pouring everything into trying to bring that woman back out. I will be honest and admit that she did help me get back on track in my professional life. I should be happy because this is everything I could have ever wanted….. Yet I don’t care for Crystal Hilton when I know that Christina Zdunich is who really needs to emerge. I miss not having a wife at home. I miss this home not being filled with children. I miss having my entire network of family in my life and pushing me onward. I love you and Brayden so much but I do enjoy that Zdunich side as well. I don’t want to sit here and fight with my wife, but I also don’t feel right letting Mercedes down either.

Brittany: Listen mom and I am going to be completely honest with you. I personally don’t care what decision you make because at the end of the day I will still be your daughter, but what I will say is that it feels weird having to spend time with Seleana and the kids, and you aren’t there with them. I feel like our family is broken and if I was in your shoes with Halo I would be doing everything in my power to win her back and make her realize that I was the most special thing in her life and that life isn’t quite the same without both of us being together.

Brittany looks over at her mother as she sighs in return.

Brittany: We have been through some stuff together. Stuff that I wish we didn’t have to go through but at the end of the day even though most of the time I was the one that was the bad one in our relationship. We never let it get to the point where our relationship was in jeopardy and we also knew that the wrestling business could cause things to shake things up in our marriage. Despite what we've been through we always stayed true to who we are.

Crystal: To be honest I can’t wait until we get past Sunday and then the next part of what happens next will come and I can focus on the future.

Brittany: You have any idea what you want to do?!

Crystal: This scenario has been playing through my mind over and over. I don’t know what I am going to do until the actual bell rings. When it does ring and I am standing in that ring glancing at both Mercedes and my wife, then I will make a decision.

Brittany: Whatever you do choose you just need to trust that it is the right decision and be at a point where you could live to accept it no matter what it is.

Crystal: Thank you for being my daughter Brittany. I am lucky to have somebody as special as you in my life.

Brittany: And I couldn’t imagine having someone to be a better mother in my life then you.

Crystal: Anyway we did enough talking, why don’t we start training as that is why we are here.

With that the two of them  just smile at one another as they proceed to train with each other.




I guess there’s no more running away from this anymore. On Sunday everything will be put into perspective and I will now enter a match that I honestly don’t know how to feel. Normally I am the woman that is super confident and am happy to stand in that ring against anybody and anyone. However when I know that one of the other women in that ring happens to be my wife I am at a loss for words. Inception is going to be my toughest title defense that I have ever have had in my time of being in SCW.
 
It’s not because I hate my opponent but it’s the fact that it is my wife that is on the other side of that ring. No matter what happens I feel like I am walking into a losing situation. I can stand here confidently and tell the world that I plan to beat the snot out of my wife but what type of individual would that make me?!
 
I don’t want to be accused of being an abuser or somebody that would backstab his wife just to get ahead in this industry. That is who I was in the past but that’s not who I am anymore. I don’t want to be defined as being a dirty snake and I am tired of this narrative that people want to push upon me.
 
Since my beginning of entering into SCW I was known as the woman that would do whatever it takes to get ahead in this business. I betrayed the most innocent man on the roster in the form of Despayre because I felt like it would make myself feel better. I also remember running my mouth to the point I pissed Tempest off and she had to send me through a birthday cake.
 
I got under everybody’s skin and it caused me to have so many targets on me, but the sad thing is I was targeted for the wrong reasons. It brings me memories of the day that Bella Madison put me into the hospital after delivering eight ddts to me on a chair. I suffered concussions, I was public enemy number one and for what purpose exactly?!
 
All because I wanted to be hated?!
 
Yet as much as I was hated the narrative was always because people hated me for my attitude and the things I did, but they never viewed me as a threat they wanted to silence because I was a dominant competitor.
 
Sunday will be the hardest day that I have ever had to face in my entire career. People still view me in a certain way but one thing is definitely for sure. Sunday will be the day where I change everybody’s entire perspective about me.
 
Mercedes is pushing for me to be Crystal Hilton. She wants me to be this vain and vile villain that would do anything to keep her championship but at the same exact time I have a wife who is hurting mentally and emotionally. Anybody would love to be a World Champion and she is in fact the one opponent who I have yet to beat inside the ring.
 
I know she has thoughts running through her mind if I can be trusted or will we ever be at a place where we can mend our relationship and find our way back together again. There is so much at stake here.
 
Then there is the realization that everything stems from trust and how the championship has caused me to become this monster where the championship is the only thing that I care about. I know that is the thought that is on everybody’s mind but let me make something clear. On Sunday at Inception I plan to change everybody’s opinions about me. Come Sunday the woman that I used to be is officially going to die. I know that’s probably not what Mercedes wants to hear but Crystal Hilton will be put to rest. She has existed for far too long but I am tired of having to hide my emotions with a costume of bullshit.
 
It’s time for Christina to emerge and whether people like that or not I need to be true to myself. What that means is that I am going to come out to that ring and fighting with honesty and integrity. I am going to put on a show that will be remembered for a long time but I am going to bring the type of honor that should go to whoever holds the most prestigious title in our company.
 
I will walk in as champion and walk out as champion, and I will pick how my future goes whether it’s my wife, my career, my partner, or my championship.
 
See you there…
 
 

4
Supercard Roleplays / Re: MILES KASEY (c) v ALEX JONES - INTERNET TITLE
« Last post by MiloKasey on January 09, 2026, 11:28:48 PM »
That First Night Home

The elevator ride felt like it was moving through molasses.

Miles kept one arm firmly around Carter’s waist, guiding him slowly, step by careful step. Carter wasn’t collapsing, but he wasn’t steady either. His legs trembled, not from weakness alone, but from the shock that still clung to him like static.

The doors slid open onto their floor.

Two things hit them immediately: A uniformed Turnberry Towers security officer posted directly outside their condo, posture alert but respectful, a quiet presence meant to reassure. Silence from inside the condo, too still for a place usually echoing with teenager energy.

The officer gave a small nod. “Mr. Kasey. Mr. Kasey-McKinney. I’m posted here all night per the building manager’s request. If you need anything, you call the desk.”

Miles nodded, his voice strained. “Thank you.”

The lock beeped, the heavy condo door swung open, and Kevin was standing in the entryway.

He must’ve heard them in the hall. He must’ve been waiting.

The hoodie he wore looked too big on him tonight. His hands clutched the bottom hem, twisting it, and his eyes, they were big and wet.
Quietly spiraling.

The moment Carter crossed the threshold, Kevin froze like he was trying not to startle a wounded animal.

Miles closed the door behind them, engaging the lock, the deadbolt, the chain. Then exhaled once. Then turned.

Kevin looked from Miles to Carter to the faint red marks on his Carter’s face and the way he was holding himself together with stubbornness and pride.

“Carter...?” Kevin’s voice broke.

Carter lifted his head, tired, hurting, but trying to keep it gentle. “Hey, kid.”

The word kid made Kevin swallow so hard his throat clicked. He approached slowly, almost cautiously, like he was afraid touching Carter would make it worse. Carter lifted a hand anyway, inviting him closer.

Kevin stepped into him and wrapped both arms around Carter’s middle, careful, light, like he thought he might break him. Carter stiffened for half a heartbeat from pain, but then melted into it, resting his chin lightly against Kevin’s hair.

“I’m okay,” he whispered, though it still rasped. “I promise.”

Kevin didn’t let go.

Miles stood there, watching the two people he loved most in the world cling to each other and he had to swallow down the burn behind his eyes.

After a moment, Kevin pulled back, wiping his face on his sleeve like he could hide the fact he’d been crying. “I, I made the couch up for you guys before LJ and Ally took down stairs for his ride Connor and Ash home. I didn’t know if...”

Miles placed a hand on the back of Kevin’s neck, gentle. “Thank you, mate. But we’re sleeping in our room.”

Kevin nodded. Of course he understood.

He followed them into the living room anyway, hovering near the arm of the couch as Carter was lowered into the cushions.

“Do you need anything?” Kevin asked immediately. “Water? Blanket? Ice? I can....”

Carter shook his head softly. “Just you being here is enough.”

The kid blinked like he didn’t quite believe that, but he sat down on the ottoman facing the couch anyway, hands knotted in his lap.

Miles went to get water, and Kevin used the seconds he was gone to whisper, barely a breath, “I thought I was gonna lose you.”

Carter’s expression hurt in a different way than any bruising or chemical burn. “You didn’t.”

“But I could’ve.”

Carter reached out, placed a trembling hand over Kevin’s. “You’re stuck with me. You hear?”

Kevin nodded, but his eyes stayed glassy.

Miles returned, setting a bottle down and helping Carter take a few careful sips through a straw. Kevin watched everything like he was trying to memorize how to keep Carter alive by observation alone.

The three of them stayed in that quiet for a while. There was no TV. No ambient noise. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the faint rumble of Vegas outside the windows.

Eventually, Miles said gently, “Kev, you should get some sleep too.”

Kevin shook his head instantly. “I’m not leaving him.”

Carter managed a small, exhausted smile. “You’re safe here. I’m safe here. Miles has me.”

Kevin’s breath stuttered. “But what if they comes back?”

Miles came around and crouched in front of him, leveling their eyes. “He’s not getting near any of us. Security is watching the floor. Cameras are everywhere. And tomorrow I’m installing additional locks. Cameras inside too. Whatever it takes.”

He squeezed Kevin’s shoulder.

“You’re safe. I promise you.”

Kevin hesitated then whispered something almost too soft to hear:

“I thought... after everything that happened with my mom... and then this... that maybe I shouldn’t be here. That maybe it was my fault because...”

Carter didn’t let him finish.

“Kevin,” he rasped, cutting through the thought like a blade. “Stop. Right now.”

Miles echoed it, firmer, “None of this is your fault.”

Kevin blinked rapidly. “But if they hurt Carter because...”

“No,” Miles said, sharper now. “You being here has nothing to do with some sick bastard targeting us. You’re ours. You’re family and that means you stay. End of discussion.”

The word family always hit Kevin like sunlight. Even now, even tonight, it steadied him.

Finally, finally, Kevin nodded. “Okay.”

Carter held out his hand, and Kevin took it, squeezing lightly, as if grounding both of them.

Miles draped a blanket over Carter’s lap and another over Kevin’s shoulders and then settled beside his husband so Carter could lean into him again. Kevin stayed on the ottoman, eyes half-focused, guarding them with the fierce protectiveness he’d only ever shown for the people who saved him.

The room stayed gently dim. It was quiet, heavy for now and safe, at least for the moment.

Just before Carter’s eyes finally drifted shut from exhaustion and medication, he whispered, “Kevin?”

Kevin looked up instantly. “Yeah?”

Carter mustered a tired, hoarse little smile. “You’re staying. You hear me?”

Kevin swallowed hard and nodded.

Miles rested a hand over both of theirs. And for the first time since the attack, the house felt whole again, even if the world outside didn’t.

------------

“THE WOLF WHO OUTGREW THE PACK”

The camera turns on with a soft click — not dramatic, not stylized, just Miles, standing in front of a wall in his condo, hoodie on, hair tied back, Internet Championship hanging over his shoulder like an unavoidable truth.

He drags a hand down his face before he speaks.

Then a laugh. It’s dry, humorless. And you can already tell that he is already pissed off.

“Alex... Jones.”

He shakes his head.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything yet. I was gonna hold all this in until next week, let you enjoy your little breakfast-special pity party. But then you opened your mouth... and you kept opening it... and you just kept talking until every ounce of stupid that lives inside your skull came crawling out.”

Another bitter laugh.

“A Grand Slam? Legacy? Wrestling purity? Bruv, I’m just going on record by saying that Waffle House is better anyway.”

He lifts the title off his shoulder and holds it between both hands like he’s presenting a weapon.

“Let’s get straight to the bone: you don’t want this belt because you respect it. You want it because it’s the last spot in your little sticker book. You’re not chasing greatness, Alex, you’re chasing a checklist. A bullet point. A Wikipedia edit.”

Miles steps closer.

“I absolutely loved how you called the Internet Championship meaningless... while needing it to validate your ‘legend’ status. Bruv, if a belt you think is irrelevant is all that stands between you and immortality? Then why the absolute fuck are you so fucking thirsty for it? That says more about you than it does about me.”

He sets the title back on his shoulder, patting it softly.

“I didn’t realize legends we had around here were this fucking fragile.”

Miles begins pacing, it’s not angry pacing, measured pacing. Like he’s keeping himself from burning a hole straight through the camera. It’s been a hell of a week as is.

“You said I’m a pampered child who had everything handed to me.” He stops and looks directly into the lens. “Motherfucker... what exactly do you think I was handed?”

He ticks off with his fingers, “Was it the losses? The nights I went home questioning why the hell I even kept doing this? The matches where I got used as a stepping stone? The months I tore myself apart to climb into the place you kept telling me I didn’t belong?”

He points to himself.

“This? This championship? This reign?” A scoff fell from his lips, “Nothing about my life has been handed to me. Sure as fuck was not this title. It wasn’t this spot. And not the respect I earned by showing up every damn week while you were too busy playing Life Coach from the sidelines telling everyone how to be better wrestlers.”

He leans in.

“You didn’t build me. You BARELY mentored me. But in the end you didn’t shape me. You sure as hell didn’t save me. I was offered a place to go to better myself and I used that chance,” He tilts his head, voice lowering, “The work that went into me, that came from guys like Finn and Austin. You were just close enough to pretend you mattered. I never gave up on anything, but I let life take me where I felt like I needed it more than anything. It brought me to Vegas.”

Miles folds his arms.

“Let’s talk about Carter, since you apparently can’t help yourself.”

His jaw tightens, but it’s controlled and directed.

“You said that loving my husband came at the expense of my career, my credibility, my manhood.”

A slow, dangerous smile spreads across his face.

“You’re right. Loving Carter did cost me something.”

He steps closer again, eyes darkening.

“It cost me the illusion that men like you were ever worth following. And my manhood? If you think a belt defines it, you’ve never had any. Because fuck forbid I let my husband handle the spotlight that he was able to keep from you with a proud look on my face. I know...I KNOW...that whole mentor ‘Wanting better for the student’ is thinking that I should be at the top of the game but mate, in the bedroom, I’m the top...I have no problem cheering for him as the World Champion and I enjoy it even more just to SPITE your fucking ass.”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head.

“You know what the funniest part of your whole little diner-side monologue was? The way you said you want me to beat you. Like you’re some noble veteran passing the torch.”

He scrunches his face mockingly and raises his voice into a faux heroic tone, “‘I want you to prove me wrong, Miles. I want you to rise above! I want to see you become the star I KNOW you could be!’”

Miles drops the act, deadpan.

“Alex... let’s be absolutely for-fucking-real, you don’t want me to win.”

He gestures at the camera.

“You want credit for wanting me to win. You want to look gracious. You want to look like the wise old man. You want to look like the washed-up vet who ‘believes in the next generation.’”

He lifts the Internet Championship again.

“But you need this way more than I ever did.”

Miles stops pacing altogether now. There is that stillness and intensity. A quiet that hums with threat with the man that Alex still looks at like a boy that has never stood taller as a man.

“You talk about my plateau, like this is my ceiling. And stepping beyond it is my fear.”

He lifts his chin slightly.

“I don’t chase the World Championship because I’m not tearing down my marriage for a belt. Because I have priorities and I’m the fucking Internet Champ. I won’t do it because I have loyalty, because I have integrity. And somewhere deep down in that swirling vortex of ego still making your decisions... you know that scares the shit out of you. And I know somewhere out there, I just heard Finn scream “BULLSHIT” but that was a different time in my life and a lesson that I had to learn the hard way.”

“You can’t understand choosing love over legacy because legacy is the only thing you’ve got left. You threw your love away for a cheap thrill.” He lifts a finger. “You want to know what really makes me better than you?”

A pause and it was subtle and confident.

“I don’t need to stand next to someone smaller than me to feel tall. That's the thing that you do.”

Miles leans in, final blow loading.

“Alex... you’re not the wolf anymore. You’re not the gatekeeper. You’re not the legend. You’re a man begging the world to remember you for something other than four walls, old accolades, and a diner breakfast.”

He taps the championship again.

“This isn’t just the Internet Title. This is the future. The next generation. The division you dismissed because it’s easier to talk down to people than admit you couldn’t keep up with them.”

His voice drops to a razor’s whisper.

“And at Inception? You don’t get a rising star. You don’t get an underdog. You don’t get the rookie you once welcomed in.”

Miles steps closer until only his eyes fill the frame.

“You get the man who outgrew your shadow.”

He smirks.

“And mate... I’m gonna make sure the whole damn world sees the difference.”

Blackout.....for a moment....

“Ya know what...hold up...one more thing.”

The screen is already black when Miles’ voice cuts back in, low, almost conversational, like a man remembering one last thing before walking out the door.

Then the video snaps on again.

Miles is closer than before. Much closer. Just his face, his blue intense eyes.

“Alex? You still listening, bruv?”

He tilts his head slightly, expression unreadable.

“You keep calling yourself a legend...”

A faint, humorless grin curls up.

“But legends don’t have to beg for relevance. Legends don’t have to guilt-trip the next generation into making them feel important.”

Another beat.

“Legends don’t need my belt to matter.”

He leans in, almost whispering.

“You’re not chasing a Grand Slam. You’re chasing a reason people should still give a damn about you.”

He lets that sink in — no smile, no smirk, just the quiet brutality of someone stating a fact.

“And at Inception?” A slow exhale through his nose. “You’re gonna find out the hard way that I’m not your revival arc...”

He straightens slightly.

“I’m your ending.”

A click.

The camera shuts off for real.
5
Supercard Roleplays / Re: FIRE & FURY v ZDUNICH SISTERS - WORLD BOMBSHELL TITLE
« Last post by Seleana Zdunich on January 09, 2026, 10:18:14 PM »
Off-Camera


Room 112
Luxor
Las Vegas, Nevada
Thursday, January 8, 2026
2:45 PM PST





Looking at the room she's been in for nearly a week, Seleana Zdunich nods to herself as she waits for her kids, Aurora and Elijah, to return from their excursion out with their other mother, her estranged wife, soon-to-be-opponent, and SCW Bombshell World Champion, Christina "Crystal" Zdunich. She had taken the kids to one of the shoes they'd wanted to see and Seleana had made sure she left one for Christina to take them to. As she waits, her sister, Zenna Zdunich, and her best friend, Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez walked in.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez: When do they get back?

Seleana Zdunich: Show is at three.

Zenna grins.

Zenna Zdunich: Fifteen minutes…

Nodding, Seleana sits on her bed.

Seleana Zdunich: They should be happy. Rori wanted this.

Chavy frowns.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez: E doesn't?

Smiling sadly, the blonde Swedish woman barely shrugs.

Seleana Zdunich: E was happy to be invited. He is always surprised he is included.

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: So he still does not feel like he is fully part of the family.

Seleana sighs.

Seleana Zdunich: He does not know who the family is.

Zenna frowns but Chavy nods knowingly.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez: He is afraid it will cease because two are already gone.

Seleana nods sadly.

Seleana Zdunich: I could not hold it together for him.

She looks away.

Seleana Zdunich: I wanted to give him stability.

She nods through tears.

Seleana Zdunich: I fail.

Zenna shakes her head.

Zenna Zdunich: No, Sarabi, you did not. Crystal did.

Chavy nods her agreement as Zenna continues.

Zenna Zdunich: Christina's demons finally did the impossible.

Chavy looks almost through the Swedish redhead.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez: Ended a Zdunich marriage? 

Zenna shrugs.

Zenna Zdunich: Kattunge got left… twice…

Seleana shakes her head.

Seleana Zdunich: Li and Robbie did not.

Zenna exhales heavily, letting the words settle.

Zenna Zdunich: No, they have not.

Grabbing hold of her elder sister, Zenna nods to her.

Zenna Zdunich: Christina sent you away. It ended things with Alex. That is not on you. Christina could not control herself. It is not the first time.

Chavy shakes her head.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez: No, it is not.

Seleana looks down, still in tears.

Seleana Zdunich: Rori and E both told me they want to go home.

She exhales heavily.

Seleana Zdunich: I want to go home.

Zenna nods.

Zenna Zdunich: Is there a home to return to?

Seleana stares at her sister as if she genuinely does not have an answer.

Seleana Zdunich: I…

She looks up slowly.

Seleana Zdunich: I hope.

Zenna and Chavy nod slowly in unison.

Dr. Michelle "Chavy" Chavez: I hope too.

Zenna Zdunich: We'll see after Sunday.

Seleana nods, visibly unsure. She sits on the bed and sighs sadly.

Seleana Zdunich: Ja…





On-Camera


Room 112
Luxor
Las Vegas, Nevada
Friday, January 9, 2026
5:45 PM PST





The camera opens on Seleana in her room.

Seleana Zdunich: Sunday, we dance, ja?

She nods knowingly.

Seleana Zdunich: Mercedes no has the chance to keep us away from this.

She looks down at her feet.

Seleana Zdunich: Christina…

She nods to herself.

Seleana Zdunich: Estrellita…

She nods to herself again.

Seleana Zdunich: Stjärna…

She looks up

Seleana Zdunich: You have mess up many time. We both know…

She nods and then looks into the camera.

Seleana Zdunich: I never stop loving.

She nods sadly.

Seleana Zdunich: I never wanted you gone.

Seleana shakes her head, still visibly upset.

Seleana Zdunich: Not after Todd.

She looks sadly into the camera again.

Seleana Zdunich: Not after you turn on for title shot.

She sighs, looking down at her feet.

Seleana Zdunich: Not after Alex.

She looks back into the camera, locking eyes on the lens.

Seleana Zdunich: Not after you miss anniversay.

The hurt expands, intensifying in her eyes.

Seleana Zdunich: Not after you dismiss what Mercedes say in Sweden.

The tears come fast and furiously.

Seleana Zdunich: Not even after you tell me fuck off.

She looks up, tears in her eyes.

Seleana Zdunich: You leave me.

She nods pointedly.

Seleana Zdunich: You break up our family and drove Alex away.

The tears come harder.

Seleana Zdunich: You rebuild what could be our home again.

She nods through her tears, still looking down at her feet.

Seleana Zdunich: Our kids want to come home and like Zenna ask me, even if I want to come home, is there a home to come home to?

She looks up into the camera.

Seleana Zdunich: What I want has never mattered, to you or anyone else.

Seleana nods sadly.

Seleana Zdunich: What do you want, Stjärna?

She cocks her head to the right.

Seleana Zdunich: You have choice to make, Stjärna.

She nods stiffly, sadly.

Seleana Zdunich: Me or Mercedes?

She sighs resignedly.

Seleana Zdunich: I no say that but she did. Here we are. 

She looks back up into the camera, her voice cracking.

Seleana Zdunich: Te amo, Estrellita.

6
Supercard Roleplays / “Don’t Get It Twisted.”
« Last post by Cassie Wolfe on January 09, 2026, 10:17:25 PM »
Cassie has been outspoken since High Stakes and her targets were non other than her employers because she felt that Christian had been doing a poor job of running things since Mark’s departure! And in retaliation Cassie has faced some brutal matches, from a Hardcore Rules Match against the former World Bombshell Champion Kayla Richards to Christian’s latest offering for the Aussie.

Namely? The opening contest for Inception VIII where Cassie was facing the demented Twisted Sister in a Twisted Sister Playhouse Match! No escaping, no count-outs, no rope breaks, no disqualifications, and the only way out is a pin or submission inside the cage while the Broken Toys Toybox lurks like a nightmare nursery around them: shattered dollhouse panels, snapped rocking-horse pieces, tangled toy chains, jagged boards that Twisted calls “playthings,” and that infamous barbed-wire-wrapped terror she treats like a comfort blanket, can Cassie get the win?

Cassie’s home, Las Vegas, Nevada
Thursday the 1st of January, 11:00am

So, how was the last couple of months of 2025 for you guys?

I’ll be the first to admit that the second half of 2025 wasn’t exactly great for me, while Harper was off having her war with Victoria it seemed like I was playing second fiddle, not helped when I was left off the Violent Conduct card while those who were a LOT less deserving than me got booked instead.

I didn’t say anything at the time because I was still rehabbing the leg I blew out in the match that led to Alicia Lukas challenging and dethroning Harper to win the Bombshell Roulette Title but I didn’t have that excuse at High Stakes and they still left me off the card while Candy got booked against a returning Amelia Reynolds and I basically had to tweet my way onto the card by getting added to Bella vs. Bea.

Hey. At least I made the most predictable match result of the night somewhat interesting!

Since then I haven’t exactly held back, the fact that Candy choked in both of her subsequent matches (the aforementioned one against Amelia and a one on one match with Frankie Holiday) and disappeared again didn’t help matters and, well, I’m pretty sure I pissed off Christian in the process.

If you’ve got an alternate explanation for why I suddenly got booked in a Hardcore Match with Kayla Richards and this match? Well I’d love to hear it!

”I am so fucking glad that year is over!” I commented to Harper who had popped over to visit me and welcome in the new year. ”Between my year’s peak being the World Bombshell Title Elimination Chamber Match at Blaze of Glory and the shit involving Christian these past few months I’m just ready for a fresh start.”

”Pretty sure that applies to most of the US Cass.” Harper commented as she leaned back in her chair and I nodded in agreement. ”If not the world really! Though most people don’t close out the year by finding new and exciting ways to piss off the guy signing their paycheques!”

”Most people don’t have bosses with skin so thin that they may as well be made out of paper.” I responded dryly as I shook my head. ”And my little crusade against Christian and the old guard has gotten me booked!”

”While burning every other bridge in SCW.” Harper responded as she shook her head and I rolled my eyes before taking a sip from my drink. ”At least you seem to be in a better mood than you were before the end of the SCW Calendar year!”

”I guess the Christmas break, as short as it was, helped me calm down a bit.” I responded with a nod as I glanced towards the ceiling. ”Just don’t expect it to last into the new year, this shit is getting me results and I’m not slowing down.”

”Or you can just relax after you get past this Twisted Sister match.” Harper signed as she shook her head. ”Seriously, mentally speaking, this is the healthiest I’ve seen you since High Stakes and you want to continue your crusade?!”

”Harp, we’re in a business where we’re paid to beat each other up in the middle of a squared circle while wearing as little clothing as we can legally get away with, what exactly is mentally healthy about that?” I asked and Harper went to answer but couldn’t find the words. ”Exactly!”

”Yeah and you’d think I’d be used to it since my background is in Amateur Wrestling.” Harper admitted with a sigh as she shook her head. ”At least try not to lash out at the powers that be after Inception? Frankly I’m surprised that they haven’t tried punishing me by proxy at this point!”

”One: don’t give them ideas.” I advised Harper and she nodded in response. ”Two: I’m making no promises.” I added and Harper shook her head before the convo drifted off.

Josh’s Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Tuesday the 6th of January 2026, 14:00pm

Just because we’re in a new year doesn’t mean the grind has stopped, if anything it’s been delayed while everywhere is opening back up after the holidays.

And that of course extends to wrestling gyms, even small ones like Josh’s.

“Happy New Year Cass.” Joshua Acquin greeted me as I entered the gym with my arms crosses. “Ready to train for the Twisted Sister match?”

”Unless you’ve got a training session lined up that involves me fighting other women in a abandoned toy store that looks like it’d be right at home in the Saw Franchise? I don’t know how you can prepare me for my first match of the year.” I responded as I shook my head and Josh chuckled. ”And while that admittedly siunds metal as fuck? It’s still my main problem with hardcore matches like this!”

“That’s the nature of the beast I’m afraid.” Josh nodded in acknowledgement as I walked up to the much taller man. “Anyway I went over this with Harper when she popped over for the first time this year but the initial training will just be focused on getting you back into the groove.”

”Good, because even with all the eating I did over the Christmas Holidays I still worked up an appetite.” I admitted as I shook my head. ”Speaking of Harp, did she say anything about me when she popped around?”

“Not really, she just focused on her match against Victoria,” Josh responded as he shook his head and I nodded as I got the idea. “And while I know your match won’t mean much in the Grand Scheme of things given hat it’s the opener and neither or Twisted Sister are current or former champions you still jave a mountain to climb.”

”Then grab me some mountain climbing equipment.” I responded simply before I rolled into the ring to get started.

Josh’s Gym, Las Vegas, Nevada
Tuesday the 6th of January 2026, 17:00pm

*on camera, promo time*

As I got ready to cut my first promo of the year you could safely bet good money on the fact that I’ve got a few things on my mind.

”I can hear the bootlickers commenting already: “this match is Cassie’s punishment for speaking up” “she’s getting exactly what she deserves” and whichever neckbeard is using his mom’s wifi to write that from the basement is at least half right.” I stated as I started to pace around the ring. ”Because this is what I fucking deserve! A spot on the first big show of the year!

We’ll just ignore the fact that Christian is letting his bruised ego get in the way of common sense again by booking me against Twisted Sister in a Twisted Sister Playhouse Match that’s serving as Inception VIII’s opener.” I stated with a laugh before shaking my head. ”If anyone tells you that you need to have thick skin to run a promotion like SCW? Poit them towards my little rivaly with Christian!”

Yep.

”Not to mention his actions towards me since High Stakes but don’t get it twisted, I’m still winning this match.” I added as I brushed some hair over my shoulder. ”Sure, Twisted Sister is demented as all hell but what exactly has she done since her but? !: Win all the titles, B: win some of the titles, C: Only win one tit;eor finally B: all the above! But I know thiatch will be a grueling one for me.”

It’s that simple.

”Twisted? First of all Motorhead were better and second? Twisted when was the last time you taken seriously? Spoiler: it’s not going to end well for you!”[ I added as I noticed how I should’ve been more pared. ”And once I’m done with you Twisted? “I’ll set myself higher!”

And with that I decided to wrap things up.

”And too whoever approved it? Allow me to get trick or treats for you! Because this is exactly what I wanted to see happen!” I stated as I flipped some hair over my shoulder. ”Because next Sunday I’m cooking things off, to all my fans? In a woward yo.” I stated so to folded marms.  ”To all my games? In a word of fakey queens  because the world needs a new show? Be yourselves and be a rebel princess! And /with that said? I’ll see you in the ring.

I turned off the camera as the scene fades.
7
Supercard Roleplays / Re: KAYLA RICHARDS v BELLA MADISON - HARDCORE MATCH
« Last post by BellaMadison on January 09, 2026, 09:58:44 PM »
~*~Five Years, Finally~*~
New York City
January Night

New York had thawed just enough to make the night crisp rather than brutal, the kind of cold that bit lightly at exposed skin but didn’t punish you for stepping outside. Steam curled from subway grates, headlights reflected in rain-damp pavement, and the whole city hummed with that particular after-holiday glow, quieter than December, brighter than February, suspended between seasons.

Bella and Malachi walked arm-in-arm down the sidewalk, dressed up for the first time in what felt like forever. No sticky toddler fingers on their clothes, no toy wolf peeking out of a diaper bag, no sippy cups or emergency snack packs. Just them, finally.

Mal’s cold had broken earlier that week, leaving him pale but alive, and absolutely determined to reclaim their anniversary night.

“You sure you feel up for this?” Bella asked, bumping her shoulder into his.

Mal looked down at her with a smirk that barely hid the lingering congestion, "Woman, I have waited five years for a date where I wasn’t either recovering from a match or chasing a toddler. I would crawl through the city on my knees for this.”

She laughed, leaning into him, "That’s so romantic.”

“Honest,” he corrected.

They turned the corner toward the restaurant, it wasn’t flashy, not exclusive, but warm and candle-lit, one of those tucked-away Manhattan places that looked like it belonged in an old movie. One that reminded them both of the place where they had their first date in Paris but it wasn’t crowded or loud on this night. Mal opened the door for her, and the host led them to a booth by the window, the city stretching out behind Bella in neon streaks and reflections.

When the wine arrived, red for her, whiskey for him, they clinked glasses.

“Five years,” Bella said softly.

“Five years,” Mal echoed, eyes steady on hers.

Dinner came in courses, slow and rich, letting them breathe. Letting them talk. Letting them remember they were not just parents and wrestlers and partners in chaos, they were them.

When dessert arrived, something chocolate and decadent that Bella insisted she didn’t want and then ate half of, Mal leaned back, studying her with a softer expression.

“You seem lighter,” he said finally.

“I feel lighter,” Bella admitted, "Between Christmas, beating Alicia, starting to really figure myself out... it feels like everything’s finally clicking.”

Mal nodded slowly, absorbing that, thumb tracing the rim of his glass.

There was a quiet moment, not awkward, not tense, just full. Then he asked, gently, “So... you still thinking about the whole second kid thing?”

Bella didn’t freeze, but her breath did catch, just a fraction.

He noticed, of course he did.

“Hey,” he said immediately, reaching across the table, covering her hand with his, "I’m not pushing. I just...it came up before, and we never really finished talking about it.”

Bella exhaled, settling her head slightly to the side as she gathered her words.

“I think about it,” she admitted, "I really do. I love being a mom. I love her.” A small laugh escaped her, "I love us. The little disaster family we’ve built.”

Mal smiled quietly.

“But,” she added, voice lower now, steadier, “Last year I came so close to a lot of goals. I had a World Title shot practically in my hands and with everything going on now...with Kayla at my doorstep, Inception, this whole moment I’m finally stepping into. I can’t help feeling like, if I step away now...even for the best possible reason... I’ll lose that momentum.”

His thumb brushed her knuckles.

“And that scares you,” he said.

“Yeah,” Bella breathed, "It does. Because I don’t want to have to choose between being a mom and being great at what I do. I don’t want Máire to grow up thinking her mom gave up her dreams because she had her and then her little brother or sister. I want her to see that I fought for this. For myself.”

Another breath.

“And...I want another kid someday. I really do. But right now? Right now I want this. I want to break the glass ceilings that I know I’ve been slamming in to. I want that spot that’s always just out of reach. I want Kayla. I want the title. I want the world to finally shut the fuck up about ‘potential’ because I’m done being potential.”

Mal was quiet, listening the way only he knew how, fully, completely, without interruption. Then he squeezed her hand.

“Bella,” he said, “I don’t want another kid if it costs you any of what you’re building right now. We’re not on a clock. We don’t owe anyone a timeline and Máire isn’t going to wonder why you’re working, she’s going to grow up bragging about you.”

Bella’s eyes softened, "You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, "She already thinks you hung the moon just by breathing near her. Imagine what she’ll think when she sees you standing on top of everything you’ve been fighting for.”

Bella leaned forward, resting her forehead briefly against their joined hands.

“I love you,” she murmured.

Mal grinned, "Well according to many I’m very lovable.”

She snorted, "You’re impossible.”

“You married me.”

“Questionable decision.”

“Five years says otherwise.”

They sat there, the city glowing around them, the weight of expectation lifting off Bella’s shoulders one quiet heartbeat at a time.

They stepped out into the crisp Manhattan air, their breaths rising in twin clouds as they moved down the sidewalk. Bella slipped her hand into Mal’s coat pocket, fingers tangling with his as they walked.

“You ready for Vegas?” he asked, voice easy, but his eyes searching hers the way he always did.

Bella looked ahead, toward the subway entrance glowing beneath the streetlamps, "More than ever,” she said, "I’m done waiting. I’m done being the almost-story. Kayla’s gonna learn that real quick.”

Mal smirked, "Then let’s get you to...”

Bella’s phone buzzed.

She didn’t think much of it, probably Laura sending pictures of Máire refusing bedtime, but something in the vibration made her pause. Too long. Too insistent.

She pulled it out. The headline hit like a gut punch.

“Breaking: Carter ‘Helluva Bottom’ McKinney Attacked in Las Vegas.”

Bella stopped dead on the sidewalk.

“Oh my god...” she whispered.

Mal immediately turned toward her, "What? What is it?”

She angled the phone so he could see. His face changed instantly, confusion first, then recognition, then something dark and sharp beneath it.

“No...” he muttered, "No fucking way.”

The live report kept updating below the headline, paramedics, statements pending, no official word on condition yet. Bella felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

She swallowed hard.

“Mal... we need to get out to Vegas. Now. Like... much sooner than planned.”

He didn’t hesitate. Not even a breath.

“Yeah,” he said, already reaching for his own phone, "We’re going. We’re going tonight if we have to.”

Bella exhaled shakily, the adrenaline hitting cold and fast. This wasn’t about Kayla, it wasn’t about Inception. This was the family she had built around them beyond blood. She tried to dial Miles but it went straight to voice mail, LJ and the same thing...she kicked herself for forgetting to load Ally’s number in before she got her new phone.

She gripped Mal’s arm tight, steadying herself.

“Let’s go get our girl from Mom,” she said, voice low, "And start packing.”

Mal nodded once, jaw tight but focused, "I’m right behind you.”

They turned on their heels and hurried toward the subway, the warm glow of their anniversary night already fading behind them, replaced by urgency, worry, and the fierce instinct that came with protecting the people they loved.

Bella didn’t look back.

Las Vegas was waiting.

And now they had to run toward it.


~*~GRAVEYARD OF GIANTS~*~
Las Vegas Neon Museum
Dusk

Twilight hit Las Vegas like a bruise blooming across the sky. That strange hour where the sun was technically gone, but the city hadn’t fully claimed the darkness yet. The air was cool but not cold, the kind of temperature that whispered lies about winter in the desert. The Neon Graveyard stretched before her, a boneyard of discarded legends, rusting metal, chipped paint, the hollowed-out ghosts of casinos that thought they’d be eternal.

They hadn’t been.

And that was precisely why Bella Madison came here.

She slipped through the narrow walkway between two massive broken letters, boots scraping the gravel, leather jacket shifting with each step. No ring gear for this, no costume, no theatrics. Just black denim jeans, scuffed boots, and a treasured leather coat and the expression of someone who’d stopped bluffing with herself a long time ago.

The old Stardust sign cast a soft, dying shimmer over her face, half-blue, half-gold, like she was caught between the person she used to be and the one she was fully stepping into now. She exhaled once, a slow breath that hung in the air.

“Kayla Richards.”

Her voice didn’t need volume; the graveyard carried it for her.

“You made this so fucking personal.”

Bella walked forward again, passing an arch of bent neon tubes and a collapsed sign shaped like a starburst. Her fingers dragged along the rusted metal, the texture scraping across her bandaged knuckles.

“You had a lot to say. A lot about me, about OUR division...there were some jabs about my mother. Hell you even managed to say a lot about Mal, in your own way. Of course about my family legacy. Of course you also had a lot to say about this company. You went to talk about everything except the one thing that matters.”

She turned, stepping backward now, staring down the camera like she’d finally chosen the perfect place to deliver a eulogy.

“You didn’t say a damn thing about my fight.”

A wry smile tugged at her lip.

“And that’s how I know you’re slipping.”

The soft desert wind cut through the graveyard, spinning dust at her heels.

“See, Kayla... you talk about dominance and about credibility. It’s always gotta be about the glory days you think you built with your bare hands. I mean, there is no denying that you dominated for a long time. You talk about Frankie blowing it, Amelia rising, Crystal embarrassing herself...which that was beautiful low hanging fruit that you know damn well I will agree with, there were something in there about tag team championship matches, mediocrity this, failure that...”

Her head tilted slowly.

“But you didn’t say a word about me, I mean not really.”

She stepped beneath a half-lit “Lady Luck” sign, the giant smiling woman missing half her face.

“I mean sure...you called me pampered. Brought up my whole ‘Second-generation’ which I am. I was a constant underdog who drags her ass into matches with people better than her. Cute little Cinderella story...Sweet little almost-there Bella.”

She rolled her shoulders back, the leather creaking.

“And you know what? I’m not even mad.”

Her eyes hardened.

“I’m disappointed.”

Bella knelt beside a fallen neon S, once a towering landmark, now toppled, forgotten.

“Because if this is the Kayla Richards the world warned me about?” she said softly, “Then they oversold you.”

She rose again, slow, deliberate, like a blade being drawn.

“You say this division fell apart when you stepped back. But Kayla, that’s not the truth, is it?” Her voice sharpened, "The truth is... you stepped back because for the first time in your entire career, the division didn’t revolve around you.”

She nodded, once, the statement landing like a verdict.

“You talk about mercy. Giving Frankie rope and letting her breathe and I guess letting the division breathe.” Bella took two steps forward, boots crunching against gravel, "Babe... nobody asked you to be the mother of this division. Nobody asked you to be its savior.”

She stopped directly under a defunct “QUEEN OF HEARTS” sign, her face lit crimson and violet.

“And now you’re angry because the kingdom didn’t freeze without you.”

Bella’s jaw flexed.

“I almost pity you...almost.”

Almost.

“Because for all your legendary violence, for all your dominance... for all your fearlessness... you have never, not once, known what it is to do what I’ve done.”

She pointed behind her to the graveyard of fallen giants.

“You’ve never walked through the ruins knowing you’re the one who belongs to the future, not the past.”

Her lips curled, the start of a dangerous smile.

“I’m still trying to figure out why you called me pampered. I mean, it’s what happens when you have a loving family that doesn’t attempt to step on your neck to keep you from following your dreams. But saying I rely on legacy? Saying that my parents die a little inside each time I struggle? Apparently you have never really met my mother or my dad to even say that...”

Bella stepped closer, shadows slicing across her face.

“Let’s talk about legacy then.”

Her voice dropped, low and razor-sharp.

“My mother never needed handouts. In fact the one time she actually accepted one and then started to go against the status quo, she was almost burned alive for it. My father never begged for respect, he took it out of every single person that he ever faced. They both fought and bled and they built something from nothing. And they never once acted like the division owed them anything when business changed.”

She inhaled.

“But you? You’re grieving a throne no one stole from you, you walked away from it. It didn’t matter that Frankie had a better night than you, you took your ball and instead of keeping yourself in the spotlight, you decided to pull back. And that’s ok, when you have to carry something for long, I get the need for a vacation but sweets...you did that to yourself. I would have loved on any given moment to stand by you and taken this whole damn place over. All you would have had to do was ask. BUT that’s not how Kayla Richards functions, that is not her mode of operation...Kayla always has to do shit her way.”

The lights flickered behind her, old circuits groaning back to life.

“I did like one thing you said. You told me to call my mother and ask her to explain the magnitude of this match to me. Trust me, I don’t need to. My mother doesn’t need to walk me through this like I’m stupid, Kayla. But I get why you said it, you’ve mistaken my patience for ignorance for years.”

Bella stepped into the glow of a broken neon heart.

“I understand it better than you do. I understood that everything that they needed to do, it was against the status quo to make them truly stand out. They brought the best of the best without backing down from the bullies that attempted to keep them down.”

Her voice sharpened, every syllable a cut.

“You’re not fighting me to teach me something. You’re fighting me because you see something....”

The breeze stirred her hair.

“You’re fighting me because I’m exactly what you used to be: hungry, violent, unafraid, and one win away from becoming the most dangerous woman in this company.”

She took a deep breath, steady and resolved.

“And you know damn well I can beat you. ANYONE can beat anyone on any given day...there isn’t a fucking soul that is untouchable anywhere, I don’t give a shit who you are or what your resume looks like, you are beatable.”

She touched the crown of thorns at her hip, it wasn’t seen until just now, not wearing it yet, but holding it like a weapon.

“You keep saying I bring the same old bullshit. That I’m an underdog chasing a miracle, that I need to damn near kill you to win.”

Bella’s eyes were flat, steady, cold.

“Good. I want you to think that because maaaaybe once upon a time that was the case, but seeing as of lately that I have found some amazing success finally grasping what I really am.”

She lifted the crown.

“Kayla, I didn’t come here to outwrestle you. You said I can’t keep up but the truth is, you’re terrified I finally found the pace you can’t outrun.”

She stepped into the full neon glow, the colors painting her like a warrior forged in broken light.

“I came here to bury the last piece of your era and crown the next one. And for the first time in your life, Kayla Richards...”

Bella placed the crown on her own head, the metal jagged and hungry, catching the fractured neon around her.

“You are the one who is a moment away.”

The graveyard hummed with the signs flickering, buzzing, coming to life one last time like they recognized the coronation.

Bella’s voice fell to a whisper.

“And I’m going to make sure you never get that moment back.”

She turned from the camera, walking deeper into the graveyard, into the broken remains of legends who thought they’d never fall.

The last line drifted in the twilight behind her:

“Queen of Hardcore. End of enablement. End of eras. Inception is where you burn out so I can rise.”

And then she was gone.
8
Supercard Roleplays / Re: LJ KASEY v BULLDOG BILL BARNHART - DOG COLLAR MATCH
« Last post by Andrew on January 09, 2026, 08:35:26 PM »
MY DOG COLLAR GRUDGE MATCH AGAINST LJ KASEY PART 2

When the scene opens today we see that we are not located at the hotel where Bill and Bea Barnhart, and their English Bulldog Iris, were previously located. Today they are at a nice restaurant that is located near to where the MGM Grand Garden Arena is located. Yeah I know you want to know the name of the restaurant so the Network switches their camera feed so that the Narrator who Bill and Bea use to present comments so the Narrator will take over from here.

NARRATOR:  For those of you who do not know who I am, or you forgot who I am and what position I held with Bill and Bea Barnhart, my name is Anthony Amen and I am the Sports Anchor at WSB-TV Channel 2 in Atlanta, Georgia. Now that I am back working with Bill and Bea with comments leading up to their wrestling matches I feel confident and comfortable working with them. I know what you are asking so I will give you the answer before you feel the need to ask me. Yes, the location of the hotel where Bill and Bea and their English Bulldog Iris, are staying during their attendance at Sin City Wrestling’s INCEPTION VIII, was blurred out to prevent violent people who dislike Bill and Bea and Iris and attacking them before Bill’s match at Inception VIII. Considering the attacks on Bill and Bea, and the attacks on Bill by those wrestlers who have been assigned to Bill in wrestling matches, their location was kept under cover. But now Bill and Bea are at the Tom Colicchio’s Craftsteak restaurant at 3799 Las Vegas Boulevard South, Las Vegas, Nevada 89109. Additional information is that this classy Steak House is located a quick walk from the MGM Grand Garden Arena. But enough of my comments as I know what the fans really want is to hear direct comments from Bill and Bea Barnhart. With that said I turn you over to Bill and Bea.

The camera shot changes from a shot of Anthony Amey to a shot of Bill and Bea Barnhart waiting to be assigned to a table so they can enjoy their lunch in luxury. Both Bill and Bea notice the assigned camera person and while they are waiting for their table they present comments for the viewers.

Bill:  The first thing I will state is that both of us are not going to let you know what we are ordering here at Tom Colicchio’s Craftsteak restaurant. They have an amazing menu to select from and both of us have made our selections. That is all we will tell you for now as it really is none of your business what we eat when dining out at a high class restaurant. I will let you know that the restaurant agreed to provide us a menu item for us to bring it back to our hotel for Iris to enjoy since they do not allow animals here in this restaurant.

Bea:  I can give you a hint of what we are ordering. Bill loves properly cooked steaks so he ordered a steak meal. That is all the information you are going to get from us on what Bill is having for his meal. As for me I selected a menu item that contains both Steak and Seafood as I enjoy both of those items. The steak I get with my meal is smaller than the one Bill is getting because my meal is both steak and Seafood while Bill’s meal is all steak.

Bill:  So you know where we are at right now, and what we are having for our meals, but once we are done and head back to our hotel that is when the cameras are turned off so that the paid thugs, hired by the Kasey family, cannot send their thugs to our location to try to take me out before my match against LJ Kasey takes place. What’s that you are thinking? You don’t believe that LJ or the other members of his family will not attempt to attack me and Bea and Iris? You are damn stupid if you believe the members of the Kasey family and sweet, and honest, and obey the rules, when you have already seen the members of their family have attacked others, used weapons against others, and they lie about their dirty deeds. I am no longer going to tolerate opponents, and others on the Sin City Wrestling Roster, to violate the rules, attack others when the person they want to attack has their back turned toward them, and to those who spread vile disgusting lies about myself and Bea because they are jealous of us.

Bea:  Remember when I worked as the Manager for Senor Vinnie? I carried a small spray bottle, to have something portraying what looked like a bottle of spray perfume, when in fact the only thing in the spray bottle was water. I was accused and threatened with harm for nearly two years over that. Then the truth came out and everyone found out that all I ever had in that spray bottle was water. I see others doing to that to you Bill. You do nothing wrong then several of the members on the Roster go public and claim you did or said something that you never did or said. Not only were you upset over their false accusations as I was also upset at them making false accusations against you like they did against me.

Bill:  Before I move on to other comments I wish to make a direct comment to all the cowards in Sin City Wrestling who always talk lies about me and Bea. Then when the truth comes out that me and Bea are innocent of all they accused us of, those same people refused to accept the truth that we did nothing wrong. That means you who talk lies about me and Bea you are doing so because you are cowards and afraid to confront us face-to-face. I am never hesitant to confront others, including Sin City Wrestling Management, when I know I am right the they are are wrong. If you are not a coward then you should stand up for the truth and your rights instead of cowering to others and their lies and covering up for them.

Bea:  Nicely stated Bill. I feel the same way. Are you ready to cram more truth and facts into the faces of the other wrestlers in Sin City Wrestling, and those who are hateful fans, who spread the lies?

Bill:  I am always ready to cram the truth down the throats of those who dislike me. Hope they like the taste of TRUTH because that is what I will be cramming down their throats.

Bea:  Although Bill has not given me a heads-up on what his comments will be I already know that I am going to enjoy what he talks about. Go for it Bill.

Bill:  Growing up as a kid in California our family went camping a lot. Sometimes we would drive up to Redding, California, to spend time at Shasta Lake, as our father grew up in Redding. That allowed us to visit with the remaining family members who have not passed away yet then we would to to Lake Shasta and rent a houseboat and camp out on Lake Shasta for a week. Every time we did our trips to Lake Shasta we always saw people who rented houseboats but they didn’t know what they were doing. Some would drive their houseboat too fast…or recklessly. . .or just do dumb crap like running out of gas for their houseboat they rented. Our family laughed at these idiots because they all did the same things. They talked like they knew everything about running a houseboat around Lake Shasta while not knowing a damn thing. I would equate it to someone who goes on vacation, either to go camping or to stay in a hotel, but when they have the urge to poop they fail to check first if there is toilet paper available. Every vacation the same incidents happened because most of the other people are just plain outright stupid. We would watch from a distance and watch them squat and poop only to realize they didn’t have toilet paper to wipe themselves. I will not go into detail of what these idiots did to clean themselves off but I can tell you that most of them decided to dive into Lake Shasta and scrub the crap off of their butts. It was like we were watching a free comedy show.

Bea:  How does that relate to the other wrestlers in Sin City Wrestling?

Bill:  It was like we were watching a free comedy skit at the expense of stupid people who can’t even figure out that when they poop they should wipe their butts. That relates to the majority of wrestlers in Sin City Wrestling. They talk like they know what they are doing but nine out of ten times they fail and fall flat on their faces. They should not be upset at us for laughing at their stupidity as they are the ones perpetrating the stupidity.

Bea:  In closing is there something you wish to present to the viewers, and the other wrestlers in Sin City Wrestling, hoping that they will finally learn something and stop acting like idiots?

Bill:  Glad you asked me that Bea. I have been in the sport of Wrestling for a long time. One thing I learned early in my Wrestling career is that you do not talk back and insult Management personnel. Unfortunately, here in Sin City Wrestling, about one-forth of the wrestlers feel they can get away with insulting and issuing threats to Management personnel. What they find out is that type of behavior only gets them reprimanded and often it gets them fired.

Bea:  Nice to know we are on the good side of Management.

Bill:  There are also a lot of wrestlers, including here in Sin City Wrestling, who receive reprimands from Management but they do not clean themselves up and obey the rules and the authority of Management. Those are the type of wrestlers that you see for a few weeks or so then suddenly they are gone and nobody knows where they went. They got fired for being jerks is where they went.

Bea:  Although there have been times when both of us got upset at officials such as the Referees, and a few times receiving a talking-to from someone on the Management team, we have yet to be threatened with being fired as we take the comments from Management seriously and when we are asked to clean ourselves up and obey the instructions of Management and obey the rules of our matches we do so.

Bill:  My final comment concerning wrestling in Sin City Wrestling is that the both of take wrestling seriously and we accept the matches Management assigns us to. We are not in the position to question every wrestling assignment sent our way. We are in the position to perform those wrestling assignments to the benefit of the fans. This run in Sin City Wrestling is not about what wrestlers think of themselves. What it is about is ensuring that all wrestlers do what Management assigns them to do to entertain the fans. I feel that pretty much covers how we work in Sin City Wrestling Bea.

Bea:  Just as a reminder both myself and Iris will be at ringside with me serving as your Manager and Iris serving as a notification item for her to let me, or you, or both of us, that that your opponents and the friends and family of your opponents, are trying to cheat you out of your win. Best to you in your match against LJ Kasey. I am looking forward to watching you get your hand raised for their victory over LJ.

Bill:  We are almost done with our comments leading up to my match with LJ Kasey so I will make my closing statement at this time. Well, LJ, time is running out for you. Oh, for sure, you can continue to talk all the smack talk you want but when the match is over it will be my hand raised for the victory. I also want you to know that after I soundly defeat you and walk away as the winner of our match you will never want to hear my name, BILL, or any other words that sound like BILL and I can understand that. I get a mental image of you and your family members going out for dinner and when your server comments that they are handing you the BILL that you will cringe as you will remember my name which is BILL. And after that any word that sounds like BILL. . .or remotely sounds like BILL. . .will cause your nervous system to suffer a malfunction and go into survival mode. That, my friend, will be some hilarious stuff to watch.

Bea:  If you are done with your closing statements I can ask the camera person to cut their camera feed and then we can eat our meal without having a camera broadcasting us enjoying our meal.

Bill:  Before we close our comments for today I wish to thank the Owner of Tom Colicchio’s Craftsteak Restaurant for allowing us to air our comments leading up to my match against LJ Kasey. We were already seated when the assigned camera person arrived and your kindness to allow them to air our comments for my upcoming match. But now it is time for us to sign off of our broadcasting so we can eat our meals here at the restaurant. Then when we are done we will bring food back to our hotel room for Iris to enjoy. With that said the next time you will see us is when I arrive at the wrestling ring for my Dog Collar Grudge Match against LJ Kasey. Bea. . .you may now inform the camera person that they can cut their camera feed so we can eat our meal in peace.

Bea signals the camera person to let them know that they are done with their presentation for today and that the camera person can cut their camera feed. The camera person calls into the broadcast control room to let them know Bill and Bea are done with their comments and they cut the camera feed and our screen goes dark.

9
Supercard Roleplays / The Princess and the Wolfe
« Last post by Metal Maniacs on January 09, 2026, 07:34:43 PM »
The warehouse was a sight for sore eyes – or was that a sore sight for eyes? One can never be too certain. It was built from the ground up of old brick and corrugated steel, its windows filmed over with grime and many were cracked if not outright broken. The air smelled like old oil and damp cardboard, and the only light came from a single standing lamp that bestowed a spotlight across the concrete floor. Twisted Sister sat cross-legged like a child at story time, ironic since an old and worn storybook sat open in her lap as she readied herself to read a story to the littles that she was baby sitting.

Littles she was babysitting?

Damaged dolls surrounded her like a broken little audience. Porcelain faces cracked, stuffed animals with seams split open, plastic Barbie arms bound back on with tape and staples. Some sat upright on paint cans. Some leaned in piles against an old couch with the stuffing coming out. A few were propped carefully on wooden pallets, arranged in a crescent shape on the floor.

She stroked the nearest doll’s hair with two fingers, then placed her palm flat against the book as if to quiet it. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and careful, the tone of someone reading in a room where loud sounds got punished.

Twisted Sister: Now behave. No interrupting. You’ll get your turn.

She opened the book to a page marked by a strip of faded lace, cleared her throat once, and began to read…

“THE TALE OF THE SPOILED WOLFE GIRL AND THE PRINCESS OF PLAY”

Twisted Sister: Once, in a village filled with entitlement and despair, there lived a girl who called herself Wolfe.

Twisted Sister: She was not a wolf, not truly. She had no fangs and no fur, not even any claws. She had only a voice that could rise high and eyes that always counted what other people had. From the day she learned to point, she learned to demand, and from the day she learned to demand, she learned that many grown folk would rather give her what she wanted than to deal with her screams and tantrums, which was quite fine by her.

Twisted Sister: When Wolfe Girl wanted sweetbread, she did not ask. She stamped her foot and screamed. When Wolfe Girl wanted ribbons, she did not wait. She tore them from another child’s hair and shrieked that it was unfair that the world had not already gifted them to her. When Wolfe Girl wanted attention, she did not speak kindly. She made herself a storm, and the village made itself small.

Twisted Sister: The adults spoke in quiet corners about what she had become, because adults always speak in quiet corners when they know they are too late. But Wolfe Girl had sharp ears. She listened behind doors. She listened under the windows. When the adults refused her, she did not learn restraint. She learned hatred. She began to speak badly of them. She told the other children the adults were jealous of her. She called them names she did not understand, and laughed anyway. And when the adults heard, they did what frightened adults always do. They pretended they hadn’t and indulged her anyway.

Twisted Sister: Now, beyond the village there stood a great Playhouse. It was not the kind made for children with bright paint and friendly windows. This Playhouse was built from old boards and iron nails. Some said the Playhouse had once been a palace. Some said it had once been a prison. No one went there unless they had to. But Wolfe Girl, who had never been told no, saw the Playhouse and wanted it.

Twisted Sister: She marched to the Playhouse with her chin high, making sure everyone watched. Inside the yard were toys scattered like bones. Dolls with missing eyes, rocking horses with splintered legs, tea sets chipped and stained. In the middle of it all, sitting on the steps of the Playhouse, was a princess.

Twisted Sister: “Welcome! I am Princess Twisted Sister. This is my home.”

Twisted Sister: Wolfe Girl sniffed, as if she smelled something beneath the beauty that she did not like. “Your home? Give it to me!”

Twisted Sister: Princess Twisted Sister did not argue. She only tilted her head and looked at Wolfe Girl as though she were studying a tiny insect. “You may come in. You may play.”

Twisted Sister: Wolfe Girl’s eyes brightened with greed and entitlement. “I want the biggest room!” Wolfe Girl announced. “And the best toys!”

Twisted Sister: Princess Twisted Sister was delighted and gave a soft little giggle. “You may have all of it.” Inside the Playhouse, the rooms were tall and dim. Toys sat along shelves, collecting dust. Dolls watched from rocking chairs. Wolfe Girl reached for a doll dressed in lace and velvet, but the doll’s head turned slightly beneath her fingers, as if it did not like being touched by dirty hands.

Twisted Sister: Wolfe Girl shrieked and threw it across the room. “I hate it!” She screamed. “I hate this place! I hate these toys!” She kicked a little chair. She slapped a tin soldier off a shelf. She tore a ribbon from a rag doll’s hair and waved it like a flag.

Twisted Sister: Princess Twisted Sister stood in the doorway, listening. When Wolfe Girl finished her ugly little speech, the princess clapped softly, as if she had just watched a performance. “Let us play a game!” The princess declared. “A game made just for you!”

Twisted Sister: The princess reached behind her and produced a ribbon. “Put this on.” Princess Twisted Sister said. “It will make you look even prettier.” Wolfe Girl snatched it without thanks and tied it around her own throat, because she did not understand why some gifts should be refused.

Twisted Sister: At first it was soft and loose, like a lace scarf. Then Wolfe Girl opened her mouth to complain again and the ribbon tightened. Wolfe Girl’s eyes widened. She clawed at the knot, and the ribbon tightened more. She tried to scream, because screaming was her weapon. But only a thin, pathetic sound came out, like the squeak of a toy pressed too hard.

Twisted Sister: Princess Twisted Sister watched, smiling as though she had just fixed something that had been broken. Wolfe Girl’s face reddened with rage. She stomped. She kicked. She thrashed, trying to throw a tantrum the way she always did. She began to cry like a spoiled little girl who had dropped her favorite sweetbread. She cried loud and ugly, shaking with fury and disbelief, her hands trembling.

Twisted Sister: Princess Twisted Sister crouched down until she was eye level with her. “There it is.” The princess was delighted. “That sound you make when you don’t get your way.”

Twisted Sister: Wolfe Girl’s tears spilled heavier. She tried to scream again. The ribbon tightened until her whimper became silence. “I will keep you.” The princess said, standing up. “Since you wanted to be the loudest thing in every room, I will make you the quietest.”

Twisted Sister: She reached for Wolfe Girl’s chin and turned her face toward the mirror. Wolfe Girl stared into it but the mirror did not show a girl. It showed a doll. Small. A painted smile stretching across a mouth that would never scream again. The red ribbon around her throat now looked like a decorative bow.

Twisted Sister: Wolfe Girl tried to move but her arms stayed where they had been placed. Wolfe Girl tried to cry but her eyes stayed dry. Princess Twisted Sister lifted the new doll and carried her to a shelf crowded with other dolls that had once been loud things. And there, Princess Twisted Sister set Wolfe Girl down gently among the broken beauties and repaired monsters.

Twisted Sister: The princess said “In my Playhouse, little girls who throw tantrums don’t get their way. They get put on display.”

Twisted Sister’s voice trailed off as she closed the book slowly. For a moment she sat absolutely still, surrounded by her damaged dollies. Then a giggle slipped out. She tilted her head toward the gathered toys, prepared to tell them a wonderful secret.

Twisted Sister: Cassie Wolfe is coming over to play. She’s going to stomp and cry and say it isn’t fair, because that’s what spoiled girls do when nobody cares. And in my Playhouse, the big bad Wolfe doesn’t get to huff and puff. She got to sit very still and never move again.
10
Supercard Roleplays / Graves, Regret and Rage
« Last post by Alexander Raven on January 09, 2026, 07:20:56 PM »
Fawkner Memorial Park was a strange little place. Right next to the train station, bright and colourful. It was a place filled with death, and yet. There was a peace to it. A happiness. A memory of lives lived, forever etched in stone and granite. Grave upon grave, yet there was a sombre peace in it all. Alex was glad this was where Lauren was buried. A happy and bright place for her. A place she would have loved. Filled with rows and rows of flowers and hedges. Healthy and green grass. Spaces to be happy with them all. It reminded him of his mother’s grave in a way.

Buried back at their home in Texas. On a hill, constantly overlooking trees and greenery. He’d always wished that his mother had been able to meet Lauren. They would’ve been fast friends, he thought. His mother was always so sweet to the women in his life. Maybe because she wanted to ensure that they never felt like she did. Trapped by a hateful man, with a son who had become so full of anger. She’d worked so hard to love the women he loved, to ensure that he saw the sweetness that came with it all. To show love, through love. A hard woman, but one filled with immeasurable amounts of it.

Two the sweetest women he had ever known, with lives cut too short. A sad reminder of the harshness of the world.

It was strange, being her with Luna. Not because he didn’t want her to be. Hell, he knew Lauren would even want her to be here if she was the one who was bringing light to his life now. No, it was strange because in life, the two of them never really got along. Lauren was a fiercely protective woman. Fiercely protective of the people she loved. Alex hadn’t made it easy for Luna to remain in their lives after her betrayal. Even years later the sting hurt him still. There would always be some resentment there. He knew that. Yet, he was at least at peace with it.

Luna had worked hard to be better than who she once was. To be free of her of demons and ghosts. It was unfortunate for him, that he may never really get that freedom of his own. Tormented by his own ghosts, his own inability to truly move on. The mocking of his father, the berating of Leon. The soft reminders to be better by James. The sweet understandings of Lauren. Common ghosts. Despite it all, sometimes he just wished he could hear his mother again.

She didn’t exist in those torments. Not in the softness like James and Lauren. Not in the cruelty like his father, Leon and The Lost. No, she remained peaceful on her little hill. Never a ghost, never a torturer. For that he was happy. For that he was reminded of the small peace in his life. But still, some days. He just wished he could hear her voice one more time. Telling him she loved him. That she was proud of him. That she would always be there for him. The one person in his life that he truly wished had never left it.

“It’s really pretty here. It smells so alive. I can see why you always came back.” Luna’s voice cut into his thoughts. He smiled a little and nodded, as they slowly strolled through the rows of graves.

They’d eventually come to Lauren’s grave. He suspected it would be a little sad looking. He hadn’t been back in a while to clean it up. Hadn’t been back in a while to talk to her. His heart hurt at the thought. He hadn’t forgotten her. He truly hoped she understood that. That she knew he would never forget her. Just as time went by, and life took hold. It became harder to come back as often. She was always with him. He just hoped she knew that.

“I like it here. It’s peaceful. It’s… serene.” Alex said softly, taking one of Luna’s hands into his own. Lacing their fingers together. Linking them together. A wash of calm. He’d been in control a lot more lately. He wasn’t quite sure what had led to the change. The ghosts were more common, and the grating voices in the back of his mind never really relented. But it had been a hot minute since he was trapped in that room. Perhaps he was slowly starting to put his mind back together. Maybe Mors had been more helpful than he thought.

The short stroll eventually brought them to the grave. Her grave. Lauren’s grave. A wash of calm, a wash of peace. Someone had been kind enough to keep it maintained. Fresh flowers, the grave wiped down and cleaned. Maybe her family had been coming back. They’d fallen out in life, but death was generally a good equaliser and squasher of discontent. He hoped they were doing okay. They deserved peace too.

“I’ll give you a minute. Let me know, okay?” Luna said softly as she pulled her hand from his. A smile that reached her eyes, the gentle brushing of hair from her face. He nodded in response as she began to wander away, taking in the sunlight and the scenery. Leaving him to himself. He turned and sat down slowly in front of her grave. His eyes fixated upon her name. Upon the engraving on the headstone. He’d spent good money on one that would stand the test of time. Almost as pristine today as it was the day she was buried.

“Hey you. Sorry I haven’t visited in a while. Things are just a little hectic these days. I know you’d understand, but. I need to apologise anyway. I miss you. I miss you every day. I miss every damn day. I don’t think my life would be like it is now, if you were still here. I don’t know how I feel about that, you know?” Alex spoke softly, almost whispering. His voice was choked up, tears welling in his eyes. He hadn’t really been emotional here for a long time. Maybe a good sign of his thawing heart. He hoped it was a good sign.

“I’m still so lost, every day. I don’t know who the man in the mirror most of the time is. I don’t recognise myself anymore, you know? James is gone now, and I don’t think I’ll ever really be able to deal with that. The world gets a little bit emptier every day, and I’m struggling. I don’t know how to ask for help. I don’t know how to reach out for it. I put on this mask, and I pretend everything is okay. I have to. I have to pretend to be Alexander Raven every day now. I don’t even know if it’s really that much different anymore.” He sighed as she ran a hand over his face, sniffing deeply. Taking in a deep breath of the flower filled air. A slow exhale as he got control over himself again.

“I love you, Lauren. As much today as I did on your last one. I love you so deeply. Maybe in a different way now, but. The world is darker without you in it. I hope you are proud of me. Truly, I hope you are. I hope I haven’t let you down, but I think I might have. I promise, I’ll be better. I know I’ve broken a few promises, but I won’t break this one. I promise, I will be better.”

He picked up a few stones and began fiddling with them in one hand, lowering his gaze from the grave. The first few tears falling. The first bit of pain truly seeping from his body. A broken man, held together by hope and desperation. He sat there, and he sobbed. He sobbed deeply from the depths of his soul. Not for the first time, but one that was far more cathartic than he ever thought it could be.

He let himself hurt.

Some time passed. He wasn’t sure how long but eventually the sobs stilled themselves. His heaving and sniffling came to a slow end. Then the silence. The light twitter of birds, the rustle of foliage in the light wind. The slight burning of the world under the intensity of the Australian sun. For a moment he just existed. He could almost feel the soft touch of her hand on his cheek. Time dulled memories and the more it went by the less he remembered of it all.

Yet, he would never truly forget. There would always be something to remind him. Remind him of the gentleness of her caress on his skin. The softness of her fingers on his cheek. The sweetness of the woman who loved him for him. Who didn’t shy away from the pain and difficulty. He’d lost two of the most important people he’d ever known, yet. Where he was now, wouldn’t be possible without them. Without James. Without Lauren. Without… Luna.

“Luna’s here today. I know last time I was here; I was telling you about her. About how she’s changed. How hard she’s worked to be better. I think, if you guys met now. You’d have really liked her. Not resented her for hurting me. You were always far more forgiving than I was. She wants to talk to you. I hope that’s okay. I’d really like it if you two could get along. For me, you know? I know its selfish, asking my former wife to get along with my new wife, who we both once resented for her mistreatment of me. Funny life I lead, huh? But please. Just hear her out, okay?” Alex spoke softly, the tears now dry on his face.

Breathing deeply he slowly composed himself again, letting a wash of calm come over him once more. His gaze rising to the headstone once more, staring at the engraving once more. He fiddled with his fingers as he slowly looked around him. He couldn’t see Luna anywhere in the immediate vicinity. He reached down into his pocket, took his phone out and sent a message. A message to let her know he’d had his moment.

“I think I’m going to need you both. For your strength, your confidence. To help me be better. To cleanse these ghosts from my mind. I love you, Lauren. I hope you always knew that.” Alex said softly as he heard the crunch of Luna’s shoes coming closer. He slowly pulled himself to his feet. His body groaning at him under the effort. He smiled as Luna approached. Doing his best to obscure his red eyes in the glare of the sun. She would know, but he didn’t want her seeing the pain.

“Give us a minute?” Luna said softly, as she placed a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek. He nodded as he turned away. Going for his own little stroll through the place of the dead. Leaving Luna to have her words, to say what she needed to say. For some, talking to the dead wasn’t the done thing. It wasn’t something that brought peace or gave them comfort. For Alex, he never for a moment doubted that they could hear him. Despite his fear of death, there was a constant peace in believing that the dead could still hear him. For a moment tormented by ghosts of his past, it would be wrong to deny the idea of talking to the dead. He breathed deeply, as he slowly wandered around the Memorial Park. Lost in his own mind. Allowing himself to just be at peace for a little while longer.



“It’s funny, listening to you talk Carter. It amuse me, because, deep down, I don’t think you’re comfortable in your own skin. I want to take us back to the end of 2023. I want to take us back to that moment, when you realised that the vitriol wasn’t you. That the incessant need to rip and tear at people. It wasn’t something you truly understood. That you actually felt was necessary. Because I called you on it. I called you out on being inconsistent in your treatment of others. I called you out on your lack of confidence stepping into that match. I called you on being unsure of your place in that match.”

“I told the world, that of all us? You were the one that belonged. I told the world, that you Carter, were the only one who deserved it. It made you think, it made you wonder. It lit a fire in you, that in time led to where you are now. You can deny it if you like, I don’t blame you for wanting to be free of that ideology. To acquiesce anything to Alexander Raven. Nobody wants to give me due credit, due process. I can accept that. I can take that.”

“I can take the hounding, the bashing. The constant smearing of my character. I can take the pounding of something that hasn’t been true for… well, almost a year now. Growth is what we call it. Personal understanding and growth. An acknowledgment of our shortcomings, in order to progress to a better tomorrow. A better future for ourselves, one grounded in success. One grounded in the belief that we are in control of our own path forward. See, I can see a growth in you, Carter. I’ve never denied that. I do everything to see growth in those around me. I want the best of the best, and if you cannot deliver it, then I will hurt you for it.”

“I’ve demanded nothing but excellence from touted Eddie Lyons. Now he has that little weight lifted from his shoulders. He finally felled the demon that he just couldn’t figure out. That played with his mind, that got under his skin. That made him feel legitimate doubt. You want to talk about Eddie Lyons being next in line? Good. I’ve done my best in making sure that he has every confidence in stepping in that ring against you. I’ve made sure he has every confidence in his ability to be the best of the best. To be the next World’s Heavyweight Champion. I’ve done that, because I have seen the potential.”

“The same way, I saw the potential in you. You lost that night, I lost that night. I pinned; James Huntington-Hawkes pinned me. He did it again, and again. The thorn in my side that just wouldn’t come out. See the conspiracist that you seem to still think I am? He would’ve thought a greater plot afoot. A greater plot by the consummate World’s Champion, Carter Casey-Mckinney. To work with Kevin Carter to make sure Alexander Raven didn’t get to the big one. Once upon a time, not too long ago in fact, I would have screamed that from the heavens.”

“I didn’t blame you, Carter. I have learnt that the actions of an individual do not always come from the mechanisations of the sycophants. No, I focused on Kevin Carter. Scared the man more than anyone else ever has, ever will. For a fleeting moment the crowd threw themselves behind me. Baying for the bloodletter to take it. On a technicality, I lost. Visual confirmation of one man before the other, despite the inverse being true. I didn’t scream to the high heavens about the fallacy of it. No, instead, I refocused. I put my mind towards what I needed to. I went and proved my Valor. Became a World Champion and showed that I still could.”

“You however, Carter. You don’t see that. You refuse to grow, once more. You refuse to step up. You refuse to be better tomorrow than you are today, even though you so heavily tell yourself that that is what you are doing. No, in this case, Carter. In this case you are simply trying to prove the naysayers wrong. You aren’t trying to grow; you aren’t trying to improve. You are simply trying to prove that you aren’t out of your depth. So you ignore the world, you ignore the things around you. You forsake your past in hopes that your future will be brighter. You’re not the man I saw the confidence in. No, far from it. You’re a quivering little pup, who barks and barks, snaps and bites.”

“You bite at all because you are so far into the defensive that you cannot comprehend that you don’t need to. I can see it now, Carter. If you somehow manage to retain the Championship. You defy the odds that you feel are so against you. You offer the next opportunity to Eddie Lyons. The first fucking thing that will flow from your mouth with be how he isn’t ready. That as good as he is, he’s just not good enough. That the future doesn’t belong to him just yet. That is how you work, Carter. How you’ve always worked, the more I think on it. It’s the same vitriol, the same hatred you showed towards me. Towards the man who offered you nothing but praise and acknowledgement. Accepted your role in the dance and encouraged you to be confident in it.”

“The same thing you have been time and time again called out on by others. By Alex Jones, by Aiden Reynolds. Countless times by myself. Time and time again, you turn to the same tricks because at the depths of it all. You’re afraid of the past repeating. In your mind, the confidence I demanded of you was your undoing. You took your foot off the gas, and it meant that I got that win over you. That’s how it works for you, doesn’t it? Praise in the off, but tear down in the focus. You lavish him now, but you will tear him down when it benefits you. No different to me, I suppose.”

“There seems to be this idea. That when I lose, I refuse to acknowledge it. Never truly been the case. A period of time when I screamed about hidden agendas, sure. But most of my life, I’ve been able to admit when I’ve been beat. You get used to getting knocked down when you spend your whole time trying to fight up. I always acknowledge my failures, Carter. Always have, always will. There is now growth in denying what happened. Let’s get things clear though. You didn’t beat me. Eddie did. The man I’ve been hounding to be better. To do more. Been digging and tearing at for years now. Demanding excellence. Demanding him to do more tomorrow than he did the day before. That is who beat me, Carter. Not you.”

“In fact, historically. You’ve only managed to do it once, Carter. You only got the win on me, in those very early days. When I was demanding absolutely everything I could. When I beat Fenris, and Ken, and Austin James Mercer. When I beat Miles, and Lachlan Kane. When I was tearing through name after name, you got me. Some might say that counts for me. I’m not that kind of person. I was on a high, but I was running ragged. No excuse for a failure, but the man who was beating legends of this company, week in and week out. He was a shadow of who I am now. You want to talk about earning my way here?”

“I’ve beaten you, twice. Clean as a whistle, and as you would put, with smoke and mirrors, and deception and dirty ploys. I’m no Michael Harris. I’m not going to knock you out with chloroform. I’m not quite so dirty as to ensure that every action is shadowed by two sycophants that I keep in purview to ensure that distraction is constant. My wife, as you continue to refer to her. My wife, my wife. My wife has a fucking name, Carter. I would suggest you start to fucking refer to ‘my wife’ by her name. Luna tips the scales when she deems it necessary. Luna puts her best foot forward when she deems it required. Luna is her own woman and will make her own decisions. If she wishes to affect things, she will. If she does not, she won’t. It is as simple as that.”

“People are their own deciders. People act how they wish to act, and Luna. Luna is not demanded an action from me. Luna is a woman, a grown fucking person, who can make her own decisions. Do not debase her, by simply referring to her as ‘my wife’. You disrespectful fucking cunt.”

“What kind of fucking World Champion refers to someone as a bitch? Who infers her to Lassie, who talks about having a leash for me to use? You want to parade around as if you are something better than what I have told the world you are, and then you debase yourself to such antics? The beloved world champion, who stood their surrounded by children. Children who are going to grow and learn and think that is acceptable to tell people to leave ‘your bitch in her kennel’. You want to talk about about antics, about twisting the narrative. How about we talk about you twisting the narrative in telling people that you are the good guy. That you’re the one to look up to. That people should be attempting to emulate Carter Casey-Mckinney. The man who refers to women as someone’s ‘wife’. Refers to women as a ‘bitch’. Who belittles and tears others down to make himself feel better.”

“You’re going to fucking out-think me, Carter? You’re going to outlast me? I’m not running from you fucking mongrel. I’m not running or hiding. I’m not bailing and I’m not fleeing. The greatest fucking thing is this world for you, is that I cannot do everything I wish I could. Cause mark my fucking words, Carter. In my world, this match? It would’ve been inside a steel fucking cage. Or better yet, those ropes would have been replaced with barbwire, and your body would have been the pincushion of thousands of sharp objects. I would have dragged you pillar to post and bled you dry like the dog you fucking are.”

“You want to me to get angry; I’ll get angry. I made my fucking career of being angry, Carter. Don’t you forget, I am bigger, I am heavier and I am much stronger than you Carter. Don’t mistake my temerity in being unfounded. You want to find that hot button, you fucking found it, Carter. I can take anything you can dish out. I can deal with the accusations and the belittling. I can deal with the blindness, the false confidence and the abuse. The moment however you become a disrespectful fucking cunt, you lose all right to a simple ‘athletic’ contest. You lose all right to fairness and sportsmanship. You get, exactly what I’ve been telling people you deserve.”

“You get fucking bled dry like the stuffed pig you are.”

“A pig of a man, a pig of a person. The self-aggrandising asshole who thinks that he can get away with anything and it will be acceptable. No, Carter. There is no accepting the bullshit you’ve just dribbled. There is no accepting the hatred you spew and hide it behind the idea of being ‘bitchy’ and ‘sassy’. You, Carter, are an awful fucking person, and maybe, just maybe. There is a reason people are trying to hurt you. Maybe there is a fucking reason that people are beginning to see through you. Maybe, just maybe, the poison that seeps from that championship into your soul is beginning to reek. The decaying flesh is becoming more obvious as the mask continues to slip. You are nothing but a maggot. A sycophant. A narcissist in the clothes of an altruist. Surrounding yourself with pleasant imagery to distract everyone.”

“Distract them from the fact that you, Carter. Are nothing but scum.”

“I’ll see you at Inception. No more words, no more lies. No more pretending and no more hiding. I’m coming from you, Carter. I’m coming to hurt you, like I’ve said from day one. I’m coming to tear you down. I’m coming to break you. I’m coming to ensure that you know what, who and why. What you did, who hurt you, and why you are no longer the World’s Heavyweight Champion. Inception marks the beginning of my reign. A reign you so vehemently wish you could stop. A reign you so vehemently wish would never happen.”

“This will be my Inception.”

“I hope you’ve been listening Carter, because after I’m done with you. You’ll be lucky to be breathing.”
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