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Even the Not-So-Mighty Can Fall
Through the eyes of Celeste North...It’s been quite a while since I’ve been heard from in SCW. It isn’t from a lack of wanting, but sometimes, there are things that are just so much more important. The rumors flew around SCW about the exploits of Tim Staggs. He and his family helped me to find something to channel my unbridled rage and anger so that I could find my peace of mind. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows and all of that nonsense, but friendship usually isn’t. A true friend is there during the good times to share in the laughs and smiles, but they are also there for all of the fights and the tears. I found it in me to forgive Tim for what he had done to me, being a teenager who is still trying to figure everything out.
Blah, blah, blah, who cares, right? There’s a story to be told, but it isn’t only mine…
Tommy Knocks shocked the world after Blaze of Glory had aired by informing everyone that the barely eighteen year old Staggs Junior had been hauled out of the locker rooms by his uncle… and a whooooooolllleeeeee lot of security. Absurd, right? This kid wasn’t an addict. He struggled with some demons (by the names of Brother Grimm and Baba Yaga) along with trying to balance out his medications. Common knowledge, right? Something that not even I knew, was that he had turned to an all too familiar escape; one that hit just a little too close to home for me. When Tommy Knocks said that the kid had paraphernalia and drugs on him… he was putting it lightly. This kid was getting ready for a party, or one hell of a suicide attempt. To this day, I’m still not sure. What Tommy Knocks didn’t tell anyone is that I was the one who found it, and I was the one who turned him in.
A few names I heard from my fellow Nobodies, and the few who knew that I had gave him up were “bitch”, “snitch”, “hypocrite”, and “backstabber”. The one that felt the most appropriate to me was “ damn good friend”. Good old Erik Staggs gave me that one. After about a week, Tim did too. Alexis took a minute to come around, but at the end of the day, those two were the only ones that mattered anyway.
But, let’s rewind a little bit, back to the moment Tim was being escorted through the backstage area, cuffed and angry.
Tim: I can’t believe that you would turn me in for something like that!
Alexis is frantically trying to figure out what is going on, and it just doesn’t feel like it’s my place to tell her. I stare into Tim’s angry eyes, not really sure what to say to him right now. He just shakes his head as his uncle pushes him along.
Erik: We’re going to get you the best help that we can, but I have to do my job. I hope that you understand that.
Tim: Bullshit! All of you just want to see me get locked away for good so that you don’t have to face the reality that you’re all self-absorbed assholes who think that you’re better than everyone!
Me: We want to see you get better, Tim! You can’t get better like this. Believe me, I know from experience!
Alexis stopped and looked at me. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of my statement. There was a bit of surprise, and a moment of speechlessness, followed by an angry growl and a fist to my face. Everyone knows that I love to fight. The bloodier the battle, the better in my book. But, this time, I let her get away with it. That will probably be the only time I do that outside of the ring, but yeah…
Alexis: You’re getting my boyfriend high?! What the fuck are you thinking, bitch?!
Me: Hey! I had nothing to do with that. Who knows how badly this might have turned out if I hadn’t…
Alexis: Wait… you didn’t. No, you couldn’t have, because then I’d have to fucking kill you.
I looked down at the ground. What I did was in Tim’s best interest, but it still fucking sucked. I’ve been there myself, and it took me a long time to forgive my mother for turning me into the police. But, just like what she did was the right thing to do, so was this.
Mee: And what would you do if you walked into the locker room and found him laying on the floor with a needle sticking out of his arm? Hm? And then when you found out I knew about his dirty little secret, you’d want to kill me then, too, right?!
Alexis: That’s not the point!
Me: It is exactly the fucking point, Alexis! You guys can hate me today. You can hate me tomorrow… but when your boyfriend gets out of rehab, and gets a new lease on life, you will thank me. Outta rehab sex is by far the best sex…
Yeah, I said that… and I meant it :-/ But the sentiment was spot on. Either Tim knew it at that point, or he was too pissed off to say anything to me. Alexis still didn’t get it. She was only thinking of the short term consequences of my actions. She wasn’t looking at the big picture. Instead of screaming at me, she simply brushed past me to walk with Tim for as long as she could before he found his way out to the parking lot to find the police car that was waiting for him. I started to follow, but Alexis turned around and shook her head at me. She did that thing she does when she’s pissed, or as some used to call it, her regular face, where her nostrils flared out, the left one bigger than the right, and her green eyes narrowed. She laughed almost right in my face.
Alexis: Don’t bother coming. You’ve done enough already…
She was cold to me right there. Normally, I would knock a bitch straight out on the floor for that level of disrespect, but I just nod my head. I knew she would come around eventually… at least I had hoped she would…
I went home feeling like shit, and had a few drinks. I kicked Chad out, like I always had done before. Only this time, it was for good. I sat in my room with the lights out, and a single candle lit on the desk that I had designated as my altar. I closed my eyes, and thought about everything I had done. I felt like shit. I thought that I had made a terrible mistake. I haven’t cried since the band Asking Alexandria became a “thing”, but I cried that night. I asked the Mother to forgive me for my actions. I asked her to help me find a way to forgive myself. I asked her to numb the pain of the damage that I had caused, when a light breeze came through my room. Somehow, my satchel fell open, and my tarot cards spread out in front of me. One of them had somehow turned itself face up, so I pulled it from the deck. “Death”...
Oh, calm down you monotheistic idiots. The death card is a good thing, and anyone who truly knows the art of divination through tarot knows that it stands for mostly positive things, such as endings of a bad chapter, new beginnings, transformation, and transition. I stared at it for a while. I found a bit of peace in that moment, and I fell asleep at my altar. It must not have been too deep of a sleep, because my Twitter notification went off. It never does that, so I assumed there was an update on Tim. I opened my phone and looked at the screen to see Delia Darling in my DM’s. Bahahaha! We all know how that turns out, but then? I didn’t even read her message. I went to delete it, when my phone rang. It was Erik Staggs. Usually, it was Christian Underwood who would reach out to me when I had a booking, so I knew it was about Tim. When I answered my phone, he asked me to come to Hotel California By the Sea… No shit, it’s a real place, and it’s expensive, too.
I was a little surprised that I was being called here, because I figured I was the last person that Tim, or anyone, would want to see. I drove there to find Tim standing outside of the facility, his hands tucked into his pockets as he shivers. Of course, it’s not cold outside, but it doesn’t have to be when going through withdrawls. He is clearly nervous as he paces back and forth. Erik and Spike are standing by with him, but he’s not saying a single word to either of them. Instead, he spotted me, and marched over to me as if he was going to beat the holy shit out of me. I braced myself for a fight, but he wrapped his arms around me and sobbed into my shoulder.
Tim: Thank you… thank you… thank you so much, Celeste…
I held onto him as he sobbed. I let him get it all out, because once he signed the paperwork, he won’t get to see anyone for at least a few days. No phone calls, no visitors, nothing. He needed to get it all out, and let me know how he felt before he was forced to wrap the honesty up and tie it off with a fancy little bow of brainwashed confusion. This was the most honest he had ever been with me, and I couldn’t understand half of the muffled words coming out of his mouth.
Me: Hey… you’re going to be just fine. I’ve been here before… literally, here. I never got the chance to say anything to anyone, because I was so consumed by anger and hatred for everything.
Tim: I just couldn’t get cut off from everyone without letting you know that I don’t hate you. I’m not even mad at you. I am mad at myself for being stupid enough to get caught up in this. If I ever found dope in your bag, I would do the same thing. I know that I would beat myself up for it, especially if you had said some of the things that I had said to you. I couldn’t let you do that, and I couldn’t be trapped in here knowing that you were doing just that.
I nodded my head, a single tear forming in the corner of my eye. I hugged onto him as he cleared his face of the tears. The redness and heat of the tears remained, but he was trying to pull himself together.
Me: Where is Alexis? Why isn’t she here for this?
Tim: I didn’t want her to see me like this. She can’t trust me after I lied to her about this. Every time she asked me if I was okay, I told her a lie.
I lifted Tim’s chin up as I looked into his eyes. I didn’t say anything until I watched his eyes center in on mine, and even then, I still couldn’t get the words right. Somehow, that stare said a lot to him as he nodded his head. He wasn’t ready for Alexis to see him like this, and I had to respect that.
Me: You weren’t lying to her when you said that you loved her. Every time you lit up when she walked into the room. Every time that your cheeks turned bright red when she treated you like a man, instead of an awkward child. Every time you comforted her, even if you weren’t comfortable yourself, you were telling her that you loved her
Tim: I just don’t want her to see me like this. She’s got enough going on without me piling my shit on top of it all. Besides, she hasn’t talked to me since Sunday night.
Me: Give her time.
Tim nodded his head as Spike walked up behind him. He placed his hand on Tim’s shoulder, and Tim looked back to his father. He nodded his head as he turned to walk away. Despite everything that this kid has been through, there is still this innocence in him. He walked to the steps, and as he walked up them, he turned around and waved to me. I waved back as I watched him enter the next phase of his life.
Of course, that chapter ended, but a new one was just beginning. I visited with Tim as soon as he was allowed visitors. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to maintain the schedule of Sin City Wrestling, and I was quite honestly aimless. I had no idea where to go from there. I was a Nobody, without my merry band of Nobodies to back me up. I hadn’t gone over too well with the fans, so I turned my resignation in, and focused all of my energy on Tim, and helping him through the struggles that I knew all too well. I would show up to Hotel California, and we would talk, watch television, eat a bunch of sugary candy. I would hold the vomit bucket for him, and not look at him funny when he would shit himself. Detox is not a pretty thing folks. Don’t do drugs, m’kay…
Once he completed his thirty days, he returned home, and I basically moved in. Sobriety in a facility is one thing, but you don’t leave that monkey on your back at the door when you leave. I helped to keep him centered in his recovery. I gave him all of the support that he needed, with the exception of the romantic stuff. I allowed conjugal visits with Alexis. I found out that Alexis had gone through a bit of a similar situation, herself. Eventually, I was able to back away, and allow them their much needed space. They are really a good pair. The things that they learned had benefitted them greatly in being there for one another.
Of course, I still came to Vegas to hit Staggs Dungeon with Tim. Fitness and training had become a big part of his recovery, despite the fact that he would likely never return to SCW again. One day, I was with him at the gym, after we had just sparred for the millionth time this week, and Twitter sparked off again. Yep, Ms. Darling can’t be deterred by two months of silence. I looked at the message from Delia, and she had proposed the most preposterous thing I had ever heard. I couldn’t help but laugh and look at Tim.
Tim: I could use a good laugh too. What’s so funny, C?
I almost didn’t want to answer him. I looked back down at my phone, and thought it the silliest thing in the world, so I went ahead and shared the absurdity with Tim, ready to get a good laugh out of the deal.
Me: Delia Darling says that I could easily become a Somebody if I ever decided to return to SCW, and that she would be willing to promote, manage, mentor, and train me. That bitch must have slipped back on the sauce!
I was actually kind of surprised when Tim didn’t laugh. Instead, he nodded his head, and stared at me. I thought he was pulling my leg for a minute there, but he kept a straight face for long enough that I realized he wasn’t joking. I rolled my eyes as I slid my phone back into my pocket.
Me: Oh mighty King of the Nobodies, the one who spouts off about the voice of the voiceless, the dying and the damned…
Tim: I’m also the one who formed a heroin habit, so that Tim was probably not the best person to take advice from. You beat a few pretty big names. You could easily go back there and be taken seriously, especially if someone as experienced as Delia were to take you under her wing.
Me: … but it’s Delia…
My mouth hangs slightly opened as I questioned his logic. Seriously, though! Delia Darling. SCW’s own version of cancer!
Tim: She has her… quirks… but you can’t deny that she’s an accomplished Bombshell who probably has a lot of wisdom to share with you.
I knew he wasn’t joking this time, but I still laughed. Like, really hard. In his face. Hard…
Me: But, it’s Delia! She isn’t known for her wisdom. I’m trying to think of a funny way to tell her no, but I’m going to do just that.
Tim: She was just another one of those model types that came off of the runway, and into the ring without a clue. In just a few months, she was turning down title shots, and a couple more months, she was on her way to becoming the longest reigning World Bombshell Champion in SCW history, and still is to this day.
Me: Mikah will beat her out, and Mikah is an even bigger airhead than Delia! Should I go to Mikah and ask her for tips on how to coddle Ward’s ballsack to get a title shot?
Tim: I’m trying to be serious here. Delia is not only a pretty decent wrestler, but she is a marketing genius. If she actually believes that you are worth her time, then you could be the best Bombshell of all time… aside from Alexis of course.
Tim shot me a goofy, toothy sort of grin as I just roll my eyes. Alexis is superior to me in the business, but that’s only because I gave up. I called it quits and I dedicated my life to helping my friend. I’m not saying that I’m better than her, because comparing a wrestler to a non-wrestler is like comparing apples to ducks. It just doesn’t make sense.
Me: I’m not going back there. I didn’t really do much when I was there anyway. It would be like starting from scratch, with the exception that people would call me what I truly am… a Nobody.
Tim: Damn it, Celeste! If I had applied myself, I know I could have been a real champion, and not just a footnote to the SCW Despayre and Friends Championships. Alexis already proved that she is a Somebody by winning the Bombshell Internet Championship. Connor challenged for the World Heavyweight Championship. You beat Jenny Tuck, who has a pretty good reputation in the ring. You beat Mercedes Freakin’ Vargas! That’s not something to laugh at, man! I damaged your career, and I’m sorry for that. Delia can fix it. You never know until you try, right?
I shrugged my shoulders as I thought about it for a second.
Me: In the very least, I could laugh about it later, and tell you all about the stupid shit that she says, right?
Tim: I guess… but know that you deserve better than The Nobodies. Look at how many of them even have anything to do with me right now. It’s always been you, me, and Alexis, and we’re still going to be friends, even when we stop telling ourselves that we deserve less than we actually do.
Aaaaand he got me. The rest is a story for another time, but we all know that Delia led me to Violent Conduct III where I nearly set Veronica Taylor on fire. So now that I’ve caught you up to speed, we can focus on my present, and begin to build my future…~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~<img src=http://38.media.tumblr.com/4dddf053764d4772b3096f211e7ed4ef/tumblr_nweswr3XG41tj0tkso1_500.gif>
Rising From the Ashes of Defeat
#NP "The Fighter” by In This Moment
San Manuel Indian Casino; San Bernardino, CaliforniaThe lights are bright, and I’m feeling alllright! I have to admit that I’m finding it strange to do a promotional take somewhere that isn’t surrounded by shadows and a whole lot of depressing undertones. Delia told me that it’s a new chapter in my life, and I should totally leave that behind.
Delia: Darling! Z’is is a new chapter in your life, and you should totally leave z’at behind…
I told you. Almost verbatim. I shrug my shoulders because I don’t quite believe that I’m ready for this, but as a fast rising star in the ranks of the Sin City Wrestling Bombshell’s division, she would know better than me. It’s the only reason I’m wearing a black cocktail dress with stockings and high heels that have red on the bottom. She told me that the red on the bottom of any shoe is a must. She stops me and grabs onto my shoulders as she checks on my make up, almost like a pageant mother preparing me to prostitute myself to the archaic standards of beauty on a stage in front of hundreds of strangers. Literally. Petroleum jelly on my teeth, and pounds… yes POUNDS of make up. This is the most uncomfortable I’ve been since joining Sin City Wrestling about a year ago. Say what you want about Delia, but she has a very unique ability to know anything and everything about your state of mind with just one look.
Delia: Celeste? You look as if you aren’t sure about z’is. If you are not ready to cut a memorable promo, for z’e first time in your life, we can find a dark corner z’at hides your crooked nose better…
Yeah, she actually said that…
Me: If you aren’t worried about a bird beak for a nose, then I’m not worried about my nose. Let’s just get this over with so that I can chisel this shit off of my face.
Delia: My nose is perfect, but since you’re new, and you have such potential, I’m going to let it slide. Oh, I’m such a nice girl…
Me: Hashtag…
I raise my hand for a high five, but Delia only raises her eyebrow in response. She walks past me as we approach the front doors to the casino. There are two men in suits, clearly there with dates, as Delia stops so abruptly that I walk right into her, nearly causing us both to trip. Seriously, these heels are like ten feet high! Poised as ever, Delia simply smooths out her blue cocktail dress, flipping her long platinum locks over her shoulders as she clears her throat. The men look over their shoulders at her as they puff on their oversized “gentlemen’s cigars” like a couple of pussies, and then continue their totally lame attempts at seducing women who are clearly hookers. Delia clears her throat once more, this time much more loudly as she places her hands on her hips, as if advertising for Coach handbags.
Delia: Excuse me, but z’ere are two ladies who would find it very chivalrous if you would open z’e door for us, like we should even have to ask…
Me: They seem too busy trying to haggle the price down on their dates. Who needs men, anyway? We can open our own doors instead of waiting for douchebags to do it for us.
I reach for the door handle, but Delia slaps my hand away. I draw it back as the older of the two men turns around, looking at us. Apparently he really likes what he sees as he rubs at his chin with this thumb, blowing a cloud of cheap tobacco smoke that reminds me of my father, right in my face.
Dude: Sure thing, blondie…
He opens the door for Delia, who shows absolutely no sign of appreciation as she enters. I walk up to the door, and he quickly closes it as he leans into it, looking me up and down. I roll my eyes as he reaches out for my arm. He “accidentally” grabs my tit, and I’m already over it. I use the pointed tip of my shoe to perform a seven-ten split on his shrunken testicles. I spit down on him as I fling the door open, smacking hard into his side. He’s already a distant memory as I rejoin Delia in the lobby. We walk through the halls until we reach the actual casino, where Delia uses her connections to bypass the rather long line. No identification required, because that’s how Ms. Darling rolls.
We walk past all of the senior citizens who are spending their social security checks at the penny and nickel slots, and the high rollers at the poker tables, as we go to the bar in the far corner. That’s where we see Mz. Holly Wood, dressed in a sequin dress depicting the various Queen cards, along with a sparkling golden wig. She is sipping on a Cosmo from a bar stool, and the cameras are sitting there, waiting on us to get started. Holly walks right past me as she gives Delia a ginger hug, kissing at the sides of her face as they laugh about only Goddess knows what. I look off into the distance uncomfortably as they start to calm down.
Holly: Gurl, it is so good to see you again!
Delia: Likewise, I assure…
Holly: It has been so long since you have cut deep into a bitch, so this should be good!
Ummm… I turn my attention back to Holly and Delia as Delia nods her head. This is when I step in between them, looking right into Holly’s eyes as I cross my arms over my chest, showing that I mean business.
Me: I’ll be speaking for myself, Holly.
Delia: Oh, sweetheart, I don’t s’ink you are ready for z’is just yet. I mean, I know it’s only Amy Marshall, and not like Mercedes Vargas or somes’ing, but…
Me: Yeah, I held my own against Mercedes, twice, and I did it just fine. Besides, didn’t your career go into ruins after you lost to Amy Marshall?
Ha! I hit a nerve, and it shows as her dark brown eyes narrow at me. She is fighting every instinct that she has to strangle me, and I’m loving every fucking minute of it. I smile and bat my twelve pounds of mascara coated lashes at her. Instead of doing what she clearly wants to do, she smiles back at me and chuckles.
Delia: I got a little arrogant against Amy after I beat her like twenty times, but my career never went into “ruins” as you say. I just took a step back to reassess s’ings.
Me: Well, I’m a big girl, and preparing for a match isn’t something I struggle with. But I thank you for your concern.
Holly: So… Celeste is going to talk?
I nod my head with a proud smile on my face as Holly stares back at Delia. Delia shrugs her shoulders and grunts, obviously very unhappy with this decision. Holly yawns and sits back down on the bar stool. She picks up a microphone, and rolls her fingers at the camera crew. I’m fighting old impulses as I want to grab onto the back of her Lady Luck wig, and smash her face into the granite top of the bar. I take a seat and point to Holly’s drink as the bartender nods his head, going to make me the same.
Holly: Hello fans of Sin City Wrestling! I’m here with Celeste North, and I hope that you don’t just skip over this interview, because we are also being joined by her manager, Delia F’ing Darling!
The fans that have gathered around the bar cheer loudly at the mention of Delia’s name. She does a Princess Diana wave, morose taking over the once gleeful shine of her smile. I glare at Holly who leans in to tell me something off of the camera.
Holly: This is how you get noticed in this business, instead of being the one whose videos get skipped over. Just roll with it.
Holly smiles once more as she looks back to the camera. I decide that it’s time to play the game, and I do the same.
Holly: I was surprised that you haven’t been booked sooner, because when you carried out Delia’s wonderfully orchestrated gasoline bomb attack on Veronica Taylor… I was living. That gave me life, and I couldn’t help but stand up and scream “YAAAASSSSS!”
Me: You know, Holly, there’s a funny little thing about that. See, Delia actually told me that I shouldn’t do that, because it wasn’t very lady like. She suggested I ruin her make up by splashing water in her face, but lighting a bitch on fire is just so much better, isn’t it?!
Delia: Maybe if you had actually set her on fire, instead of ruining a cute outfit wi’s gasoline…
Delia lets her voice trail off as she rolls her eyes… at least I assume she rolled her eyes at me, because she’s a real cunt. I sigh as I turn to her, only to get the innocent act from her. I shake my head as I turned back to Holly.
Me: I wanted to make a statement, in a way that lets people know that I mean business. Ruining someone’s make up might work on a runway, but in a wrestling ring, you have to be a little more creative. I could have come back and attacked Roxi Johnson to stake my claim at the Bombshell Roulette Championship. I could have smacked Melody Grace over the head with a steel chair, and made some stupid speech about how I’m the rightful heir to the Bombshell Internet Championship. I could have broken Crystal Millar’s leg inside of the ring, but where the fuck is the creativity in that? I didn’t come back to meet the standards of Sin City Wrestling. I came back to exceed them.
Holly: That’s interesting coming from somebody who is a hashtag Nobody.
Me: Was. I’ve got the full blessing from both Tim Staggs and Alexis Edwards to fully apply myself, with no hard feelings.
Holly holds a finger up to stop me from proceeding. I know exactly where this is going…
Holly: It’s funny that you bring up Tim Staggs, because…
Me: … because I’m not talking about him right now. I’m not talking about Delia Darling. I’m talking about me, and my plans for Sin City Wrestling, and the active Bombshells who are affected by it. If you want to talk about Tim Staggs, why don’t you act like you care, and go interview him at home. He has nothing to do with what is going on right now.
Holly: Good gawd gurl, getta grip… damn…
I stare at her, and this time it’s much harder not to slam her face into the bar. I find it in me to resist once again, forcing a happy smile onto my face, just the way that Delia taught me to do. I blink a couple of times before continuing.
Me: Nothing about me is generic. Nothing about me is cliche. I am the daughter of a rock goddess and a punk superstar. I am a practicing witch. I’m more comfortable in a mosh pit than a formal dinner party. I don’t confine my thoughts inside of a small box. I believe that the matriarchs of women’s wrestling would be saddened by what they see today. Models. People who are only in the sport to get boyfriends, and to have a presence on social media. Twitter is for the times when you’re bored on a layover, or you can’t sleep, and you feel like stirring up a little shit. It’s not for a play-by-play of your life. No one cares who you slept with last night, or how big of a shit you took.
Holly: That seems to be a popular trend, but you can’t argue with the results.
Me: Oh, but I can, actually. Take my opponent for this week, Amy Marshall, as an example. I know I’m facing her, and I’ve given her a bit of trouble in the past, but I respect the hell out of her. Even if the feeling isn’t returned, She is, and will always be, a role model for me.
Delia: Ugh!
Holly: Eww…
Me: She is not inhibited by defined roles of sexuality imposed upon women by patriarchal society. She is constantly a victim for “slut shaming” because she performs and distributes adult films that those who shame her, are first in line to purchase. She’s fucking punk rock, because she flips off those who hate on her. That is what we need in this industry. She doesn’t spend time on Twitter, responding to every hateful statement that bitches like you make to her. Instead, she’s busy snatching honors, wearing titles, and making sure that you know exactly who the fuck Amy Marshall is.
Holly and Delia both look stunned by this as they stare at me. I shouldn’t feel so happy that I got them to shut the fuck up, but I am. However, Holly does have a question that I’m not really prepared for.
Holly: What about her affiliation with Jessie Salco?
Me: Jessie is a finicky person. She is inconsistent in her beliefs. I cannot get behind that, but at the same time, I’m not going to fault Amy for finding common ground with Jessie. For all intensive purposes, Jessie and I should be friends. Those inconsistencies happened to affect a dear friend of mine. I will say that she’d better leave her fucking nose out of this match, because there will be problems if not. That goes for anybody who ever decides to stick their tits in my business.
I’m not very good at holding back and maintaining my composure, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that the surrounding fans gasp at my comment. I turn around, because they’re in a fucking casino. It’s not exactly the most moral place in San Bernardino...
Holly: I’m sorry, but I do have one last question for you. Usually when people are facing someone, they tear them to shreds. You’ve only defended your opponent.
Me: And that’s my right. I respect Amy. I like her. I’m a fan of her work, in both industries. I bought the Amy Marshall t-shirt and poster set from the merch shop when it first came out. I even did a pink mohawk once. I’m a fan, and I always will be. But I have to say… my personal feelings won’t play a part in our match. I am not going to fangirl out and let her kick my ass. I came back for a reason, and if I have to go through my favorite SCW Bombshell of all time, then so be it. It only goes to show that I mean business. I’m not here to put people over. I’m not here to feel sorry for myself, and call myself a Nobody. I’m here to break the mold of the standard, or “basic” Bombshell. Title or no title, I’m going to go out there and make the greats proud of what they’ve helped to create. Every match will get my one hundred percent. Whether I like you, or whether I hate you, I’m going to bring everything I’ve got to the ring. Legend or rookie, you will see my best.
Delia groans as she looks down at her watch. Holly looks over to Delia, who shows the time, and Holly clears her throat.
Holly: We’re just about out of time, because girl can talk! Is there anything else you want to say to Amy?
Me: Good luck. May the best woman win, Amy. Sunday can’t come soon enough, and as much as I’d like to return and beat the fuck out of someone like Veronica Taylor, I’m happy to be back, and I’m honored that my return match is against you.
Holly: You heard it here, first. Climax Control is coming at you live from Coussoulis Arena, right here in San Bernardino, California!
Holly waves to the camera, and I do the same. The camera’s shut off, and the party gets turned up inside of the casino… As in, that’s the end… Stop staring now. You’re making this awkward…
