[After the main event at Blaze of Glory, the camera glides through the backstage area, capturing each competitor’s reaction in a single, continuous tracking shot: Necra Octavian Kane sits on a bench, sweat-soaked and exhausted, her taped hands resting on her knees as she stares at the floor, replaying moments of the match in her mind. Candy slumps against a locker, the steel chair now dented beside her, frustration and disappointment etched on her face as she buries her head in her hands. Cassie Wolfe, bruised but smiling, pulls her hoodie back on—“THE FUTURE IS NOW” visible—her eyes shining with determination despite the loss, already planning her next move. Andrea Hernandez, the former champion, sits alone, the title now gone from her grasp, her hands clasped tightly together as she processes the end of her reign, a mix of disbelief and resolve on her face. Kayla Richards, the new champion, stands in the center of the locker room, Finn Whelan joins her in celebration. The Bombshell World Championship gleams over her shoulder as she raises it high, a fierce, triumphant smile breaking through as her boyfriend embrace her and the magnitude of her victory begins to sink in.
This vignette captures the raw emotion, heartbreak, and triumph of each competitor in the aftermath of Kayla Richards’ championship victory.
This set the tone for the night, capturing each wrestler’s mindset and motivation as they endured through battle. Including one other SCW Hall of Famer. Mercedes Vargas stands before the mirror, wiping away her signature red lipstick, her expression unreadable as she glances at the empty space where her championship belts once stood, reflecting on what slipped through her fingers. The weight of years spent chasing greatness hangs heavy in the air. For a moment, the fierce competitor behind the confident facade allows herself a quiet breath—a pause to acknowledge the sting of defeat.
But Mercedes is no stranger to setbacks. She straightens, her eyes narrowing with renewed fire. This loss is not the end; it’s fuel. Every champion falls, every reign ends, but legends? Legends rise again. The city of Stockholm, with its history of resilience and rebirth, mirrors her own journey. And just like this city, Mercedes Vargas will not be defined by one night.
She touches the empty space on the wall where her belts once hung—a reminder of battles won and battles yet to come. The fight is far from over. The hunger that built her legacy still burns bright.
Mercedes turns away from the mirror, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the backstage lights. The road ahead is uncertain, but one thing is clear: Mercedes Vargas always rises above.]
Almighty Firesemana del 20 de 27 de abril de 2025 So, let’s address the elephant in the room—Blaze of Glory didn’t go my way. Yeah, the world saw it. The so-called “center of the universe,” Kayla Richards, walked out with the Bombshell World Championship, and I was eliminated second in the Elimination Chamber by Cassie Wolfe. Go ahead, replay it, dissect it, meme it. But let’s get something straight: one night, one loss, one elimination—none of that erases a legacy like mine.
Let’s be real, nobody in this company knows how to command attention quite like Mercedes Vargas. You can try to erase me from the story, but you can’t rewrite history. You can try to overshadow me, but you’ll only end up standing in my spotlight. I built this division brick by brick, match by match, headline by headline. And now everyone wants to act like one setback is the end of the world? Please.
People love to talk about Mercedes Vargas when I’m on top, but the real story is how I rise when I get knocked down. You want to talk about pressure? About setbacks? I’ve had more comebacks than most of these Bombshells have had matches. Injuries, betrayals, losses—I’ve seen it all, and I’ve come back stronger every single time. That’s why my name is etched in history, and everyone else is just trying to get out of my shadow.
Let’s make one thing perfectly clear for everyone watching, tweeting, and running their mouths in the locker room: I don’t need to chase trends, I set them. I don’t need to remind anyone who I am, because every time I walk down that ramp, the world remembers. You win some, you lose some. Titles come and go, but class, presence, and legacy? That’s forever.
Kayla Richards can have her moment.
She can polish that title, take her selfies, and bask in the spotlight. But let’s not forget, the last thing she did was eliminate Andrea Hernandez—the reigning champion—while I was forced to watch from the outside. Candy, Necra, Andrea, Cassie, Kayla—they all had their shot, but only one of us is the standard everyone else chases. And that’s me.
Now, Cassie Wolfe, as I said earlier, she got her little moment at my expense. She caught me slipping for half a second, and she made the most of it. Good for her. But let’s not get it twisted—one elimination doesn’t make her a legend. It doesn’t make her the moment. It just means she got lucky. And trust me, lightning doesn’t strike twice when Mercedes Vargas is watching.
This Sunday at Climax Control, Cassie is about to find out what happens when she pokes the lioness. Because she's not stepping into the ring with the woman she eliminated—oh no. She's stepping in with the icon she could never be. She wants to make a name for herself? She wants to prove she belongs? Well, she better bring her A-game, because I’m bringing the receipts. And I don’t do rematches—I do revenge.
Revenge isn't just about winning, it’s about sending a message. It’s about reminding everyone why I’m the one who built this division, why I’m the one who holds the records, and why I’m the one who defines what it means to be a Bombshell. Cassie may have taken a shot, but this Sunday, I’m taking the whole damn spotlight back.
So Kayla can enjoy her 15 minutes. Cassie, I hope she's ready for the lesson of her life. Because Mercedes Vargas never stays down for long. And when I come back for what’s mine, I won’t just take the title—I’ll remind everyone why I’m still the most decorated Bombshell in SCW history.
Legends aren’t defined by how many times they fall. They’re defined by how many times they rise. And trust me, I’m not just rising—I’m coming for everything.
Don't call it a comeback; it’s a statement. It’s a warning. It’s a declaration that Mercedes Vargas is far from finished. I’ve been through hell and back, and every time I come out stronger, smarter, and more dangerous. You think Blaze of Glory was the end? No. It was just the beginning of the next chapter in my story.
So to every Bombshell who thinks they can step up and take my place—think again. To every fan who doubts if I still have what it takes—watch closely. To every critic who find every reason my name stays on their lips - keeps talking. Because this Sunday, at Climax Control, I’m not just fighting for a win. I’m fighting to remind the world who the real queen is.
Mercedes Vargas is the gold standard. The measuring stick. The legend who refuses to be forgotten. And when the dust settles, the only thing left standing will be me—with my hand raised, the title around my waist, and my legacy shining brighter than ever.
Get ready, SCW. The comeback queen is back. And she’s taking everything that’s hers.~~~
[Tomas’ boat, once a humble fishing vessel, now teeters on the edge of reinvention. The cramped hull buzzes with nervous energy. Folding chairs stack haphazardly near a sticky, battered bar. A busted TV flickers between static and a grainy wrestling promo, the sound barely audible over the creaking of the boat. Posters of masked luchadores and classic wrestling legends cover the peeling walls, their colors faded but their bravado undiminished. The crew bustles about, each trying to ignore the faint, persistent smell of nacho cheese seeping from the very wood as they prepare for opening night.
Hugo, grinning with the confidence of a man who’s never met a bad idea he didn’t like, stands at the center of it all. He holds the championship belt high, rallying the crew.]
HUGO
Mercedes, you're on bouncer duty. Let’s hope the crowd’s ready for some real wrestling-style security.
MERCEDES
Anyone gets rowdy, they’re getting the suplex special.
[She practices a mock wrestling move on a folding chair, which creaks ominously.]
HUGO
Welcome to the The Floating Penalty Box! Drinks, nachos, and pay-per-view—what more could you want?
[Hugo gestures dramatically to a wrestling-themed menu board listing items like "Body Slam Burgers" and "Nasty Boys Nachos," with a special on "Steel Cage Cocktails." A faint smell of nacho cheese hangs in the air.
Tomas crouches down, his eyes narrowing as he inspects a suspicious puddle.]
TOMAS
I don’t know, Hugo. This thing’s a disaster. What if it sinks? We don’t even have enough life jackets for the crowd.
IRMA
Relax. If it sinks, we’ll just call it dinner theater.
[Irma holds up her abstract wrestling belt art-a chaotic tangle of leather straps, metal studs, and paint splashes. She squints, finds a crooked nail above the bar, and wedges it into place, stepping back to admire the burst of energy it brings to the cramped space.]
IRMA
And if it goes down, my art will be the last thing anyone sees. Floating gallery, remember?
TOMAS
A floating gallery that smells like cheese?
IRMA
It’s avant-garde cheese, thank you very much.
[Ricardo hunches over his battered notebook, scribbling furiously as chaos swirls—clattering chairs, a humming TV, nervous energy. Muttering, “Theatre meets wrestling meets... boat chaos,” he glances at the crew, then back to the page, desperate to capture the moment before it slips away. Hugo looks over Ricardo's shoulder.]
HUGO
You writing the next big hit or just doodling chaos?
RICARDO
Maybe both.
[Suddenly, the nacho cheese fountain sputters, threatening to erupt. A stack of plastic cups teeters dangerously on the bar. The crew’s nerves are visible, but so is their excitement.]
MERCEDES
That thing’s a ticking cheese bomb.
HUGO
If it blows, it’s part of the show.
[The first customers trickle in—wrestling superfans in vintage t-shirts, curious hipsters drawn by the promise of irony, and a few locals who just want a cheap drink on the water. The boat rocks gently as people find their seats, laughter and anticipation building.
Hugo lifts the wrestling belt high above his head, the worn leather gleaming under the flickering boat lights. His voice booms through the cramped space, rich and commanding, cutting through the nervous chatter like a referee’s bell.]
HUGO
Alright, team! Let’s make history—or at least a viral video.
[As if on cue, the nacho cheese fountain finally gives up, spraying a golden arc across the bar. A cheer goes up as Mercedes dives to unplug it, slipping but catching herself with wrestler’s grace.]
TOMAS
(singing off-key)
♪ Eye of the Tiger... or maybe the Tuna! ♪
MERCEDES
Tomas! Save it for the ring!
[Irma’s art, now splattered with cheese, draws admiring murmurs from a group of hipsters.]
IRMA
Well, that’s one way to add texture.
[Two fans reenact wrestling moves near the bar, nearly knocking Tomas over.]
TOMAS
Hey! Watch it!
[Mercedes intervenes, separating them with a practiced armbar and a stern glare that brooks no argument.]
MERCEDES
Alright, enough wrestling on the furniture. Save it for the mat.
[Ricardo, inspired, scribbles furiously.]
RICARDO
Chaos as performance... performance as chaos.
[The TV flickers to life just in time for the main event. The crowd roars as their favorite wrestlers appear on screen. Drinks flow, nachos disappear, and the boat rocks with laughter and excitement.]
[At the height of the night, a rowdy customer tries to climb onto the bar.]
ROWDY CUSTOMER
Who’s ready for the main event?!
[Mercedes gently but firmly redirects the customer, grabbing him gently.]
MERCEDES
Not on my watch, buddy.
[Hugo, ever the showman, leads an impromptu trivia contest, awarding the championship belt to the loudest fan.]
HUGO
Trivia time! Winner gets the belt!
[The crowd cheers and shouts answers. Irma’s art becomes the backdrop for selfies, and Ricardo’s notebook fills with snippets of overheard conversations and wild ideas.
As the night winds down, the boat’s engine sputters, then dies with a cough. The lights flicker, casting the bar in a warm, golden glow. For a moment, everyone pauses—then bursts into laughter. They’re stranded, but together. Tomas looks around at his friends, the customers, the chaos. For the first time all night, he smiles.]
TOMAS
Well, Hugo, I guess we really did make history.
[Hugo grins, raising the belt in salute.]
HUGO
To The Floating Penalty Box—may it float longer than our dignity!
[The crew and customers cheer, the boat gently rocking under the city lights, the night alive with the promise of more adventures to come - just another night at the world’s quirkiest wrestling bar.]
[END]
Present Day ♦ T J U V H O L M E N, O S L O, N O R W A Y[REC•][The camera opens on a panoramic shot of Stockholm at dawn. The golden sun glistens off the waters of the Baltic Sea, illuminating the centuries-old buildings of Gamla Stan. The Royal Palace stands tall, a symbol of endurance and legacy. Mercedes Vargas stands at Skeppsbron, the waterfront bustling with early morning life. She’s dressed in a sleek black coat, her gaze unwavering as she faces the camera.]
"Cassie Wolfe. The so-called ‘Rebel Princess.’ A small-town girl with big dreams, trying to make it in this business. She’s been in Sin City Wrestling for just over a year, and yeah, she's made some noise with a win in her debut, but she hasn’t managed a single victory since. She’s got heart, she’s got fire—but let’s not get it twisted. One elimination in the Elimination Chamber doesn’t make you a legend. It doesn’t make you the moment. It just means you got lucky."
[Mercedes strolls along the waterfront, the city waking up behind her.]
"You know, Stockholm is a city built on vision and resilience—qualities I know all too well. Here at Skeppsbron, history meets strength, legends are born and battles are won. Just like this city, I’m built on resilience and power—ready to dominate. Stockholm is a testament to survival, to reinvention. The Vikings sailed from these shores, unafraid of the unknown, unafraid of a challenge. That’s the spirit I bring every time I step into the ring. I’m reminded that greatness isn’t given, it’s earned. Just like every accolade with my name on it, just like every headline I’ve made in Sin City Wrestling."
[She stops, arms crossed, her eyes sharp as she looks directly into the camera.]
"This weekend at Climax Control 423, Cassie Wolfe steps into the ring with me. And there's no love lost between us. The High Stakes Rumble at High Stakes, the time we tagged against Kayla and Andrea, and yes, the Elimination Chamber match at Blaze of Glory.
Cassie, you’re hungry, you’re talented, but you’re not ready. You see, you can study my moves, you can try to match my presence, but you’ll never have the magic that is Mercedes Vargas. That’s not something you can learn. That’s something you’re born with—and I was born for moments like this."
[Mercedes walks through the cobblestone streets of Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s Old Town. The pastel-colored buildings and winding alleys echo with stories of the past.]
"You know, Cassie, there’s something about walking these streets that makes you reflect on your own journey. Stockholm’s survived wars, fires, and centuries of change. Yet it stands, more beautiful and powerful than ever. That’s what I see in myself—a survivor, a champion, a woman who’s faced every challenge and come out stronger."
[She stops at Stortorget, the oldest square in Stockholm, and looks up at the Nobel Museum.]
"People come here from all over the world to see where greatness is honored. Nobel laureates, kings, queens—they all have a place in history. But in Sin City Wrestling, there’s only one name that echoes through every arena, every locker room, every championship match. That name is Mercedes Vargas."
[She runs her hand along the stone wall, her voice soft but intense.]
"I didn’t get here by accident. I didn’t get here by luck. I got here by being the best—by putting in the work, by never backing down, by believing in myself when no one else would. Cassie, you want to be the next big thing? You want to be the face of this division? Then you have to go through me. And trust me, that’s a mountain most never climb."
[Mercedes continues her walk, passing by the Royal Palace. Guards stand at attention, tourists snap photos, but she’s focused only on her message.]
"Let’s talk about our history, Cassie. High Stakes. High Stakes Rumble—you showed up, you fought hard, but you didn’t win. Tagging together against Kayla and Andrea—you tried to keep up, but you fell short. Blaze of Glory, Elimination Chamber—you got your elimination, but you didn’t get the glory. You see, there’s a pattern here. You’re always close, always almost there. But almost doesn’t count in this business. Almost doesn’t get your name on the marquee. Almost doesn’t make you a legend.
"But I’d be a fool to overlook you, Cassie. After all, you made it to where you were facing the champion and challenger in the chamber. Sometimes, all it takes is one night, one fight, to change everything. So don’t think for a second this will be easy—for either of us."
[She pauses, letting the silence hang for a moment.]
"I remember every match, every moment, every time someone thought they could take my spot. And I remember every time I proved them wrong. You’re not the first to come at me with big dreams, Cassie. You won’t be the last. But you will be just another name on the long list of people who couldn’t get the job done."
[Mercedes makes her way to the waterfront again, this time standing on a pier with the city skyline behind her. Boats drift by, seagulls call overhead, and the energy of Stockholm pulses in the air.]
"This city is alive with ambition. It’s a place where the old meets the new, where tradition and innovation collide. That’s what I represent in Sin City Wrestling—the perfect blend of experience and evolution. I’m not stuck in the past. I’m always moving forward, always adapting, always finding new ways to win."
[She smiles, a hint of mischief in her eyes.]
"Cassie, you call yourself the ‘Rebel Princess.’ But rebellion without a cause is just chaos. You want to shake things up? You want to break the mold? Then you better be ready for the consequences. Because when you step into the ring with me, you’re not just fighting for a win—you’re fighting for your future. And I don’t give up my throne that easily."
[The camera cuts to a montage of Mercedes’ greatest moments: championship wins, hard-fought battles, her hand raised in victory as crowds roar. Her voice overlays the footage.]
"I’ve held more titles than most people have had matches. I’ve main-evented pay-per-views, I’ve broken records, I’ve set standards. Every time someone says I’m done, I prove them wrong. Every time someone thinks they’ve figured me out, I show them a new side. That’s what makes me dangerous, Cassie. That’s what makes me the best."
[The footage ends with Mercedes standing in the center of the ring, arms raised, confetti falling around her.]
"You want to be a champion? You want to be remembered? Then you have to be willing to go through hell. You have to be willing to sacrifice everything. And even then, it might not be enough. Because there’s always someone like me—someone who’s been there, done that, and isn’t ready to let go."
[Back at Skeppsbron, Mercedes leans on the railing, her gaze intense.]
"I see the way you look at me, Cassie. I see the respect, the fear, the doubt. You’re good, but you’re not great. Not yet. And until you beat me, you never will be. That’s the truth no one wants to tell you. That’s the reality you have to face."
[She points to the Royal Palace in the distance.]
"See that? That’s where royalty lives. That’s where the chosen few rule. In this business, I’m the queen. And you? You’re still trying to find your place at the table."
[Mercedes stands tall, her championship belt gleaming in the morning sun.]
"This weekend, Climax Control 423, it all comes down to this. You and me, one-on-one, no excuses. I want you to bring everything you’ve got, Cassie. Bring your heart, your fire, your so-called rebellion. Because I’m bringing my legacy, my experience, and my unbreakable will."
[She steps forward, her voice rising with passion.]
"I want you to fight like your career depends on it—because it does. I want you to show the world what you’re made of—because after I’m done, you’ll have to pick up the pieces. This isn’t just another match for me. This is a statement. This is a reminder to everyone in Sin City Wrestling that Mercedes Vargas is still the standard. Still the legend. Still the one to beat."
[The camera zooms in on Mercedes’ face, her eyes burning with determination.]
"When that bell rings, Cassie, you’re going to see the difference between someone with something to prove and someone with nothing left to prove—except that she’s still the best to ever do it. So bring your best, mamita. Bring your fire, your hunger, your newfound confidence. At Climax Control 423, the world will be watching. When people look back, they won’t remember who you pinned at Blaze of Glory—they’ll remember how I responded. And trust me, I always respond. And when your dreams crumble at my feet, remember: in Stockholm, in Vegas, anywhere in the world—there’s only one Mercedes Vargas, and I always rise above."
[Mercedes smirks, the cityscape behind her, as the promo fades out.]
[***Fade***]
