Sigh.
You do not know what you come up against at any given moment in this industry.
One week you could face a highflyer and the next it is a submissions expert or a power house.
Sometimes it’s a sneaky bitch like Alicia or Evie. Sometimes you have to face someone insane like Andrea or even someone ditzy like Candy.
Then someone like Sierra who knocks you so hard you cannot even remember the finish of your match and you’re just glad you came through it somewhat unscathed.
This is what we sign for after all. We want to test ourselves against the best as Sierra did and in most vocations, you sit, and you wonder if your life needed variety.
None of this happens in the professional wrestling industry.
We have variety and at any given moment we can lose. The last time Melissa had fought she remembered the hard hitting and punishing impact of the match.
She could remember most of it but the end just drifted away like a smoke ring in a frat party. She could not remember if she had lost or not, but she had this feeling she had won.
If this had been the case, then she had banished those defeats and that heinous loss that shocked all of Sin City and now that damned Salco was a champion again.
Her mood was not excellent as it was, due to the lacerations taking their damn time to heal, losing Daniela and the slight concussion she was given by Sierra.
Sierra had proved herself and she had been right. Maki had needed to prove herself too. She had been signed to a contract based on her storied career, but the past is the past.
She was no longer the woman that instilled fear, that made her competitors worried about a loss on their record and now they saw her as beatable and she hated it.
Reputation takes you so far and then you need to grind out results when you are not performing at your best. People get title shots because they are earned, and Maki had done nothing to earn it but here she was with some still toy plastic championship because we needed to keep everyone happy.
Yet, after all the ups and downs, breaking her ankle, getting covid before anyone else, leaving multiple companies because she felt she didn’t quite fit in to her win/loss record being less than stellar, yet the big bosses keep giving her opportunities,
Each match that was worth anything she had lost. She lost to Amber, to Seleana and then that shocking defeat to Jessie Salco. Yet, the fans were still on her side from their living rooms, the management backed her to succeed and gave her so many chances. By and large she knew she had more win than losses and we all understand that we could lose at any time but now was the time to defeat that pathetic river of piss Myra and finally bring some glamour that internet title.
Televisual Personality – A Flashback In the locker room of the independent wrestling federation she had joined since leaving the British scene, Melissa Aki was loving life. On a personal level she had a nice apartment in Boston, she had a girlfriend and a boyfriend. It was far too confusing to get into more detail. In her professional life things had gone great and she had found her rhythm.
She had gone four months undefeated, travelling around America, yes encountering some racists and xenophobes but mainly the crowd had warmed to her. They knew she gave everything she could in that ring plus of course they loved to listen to her talk. The British accent was always a winner with every crowd whether she played the good or the bad guy, they hung onto every word she said. Yes, at times she felt visually violated and she spoke out on it but little by little with every Makihouse Kick she had knocked someone else out and it was here that she developed her love for the Makinoku Driver. She beat heavy ones, flying ones, tall ones, short ones, sexy ones, deviant ones but they all fell on the wayside as she climbed that ladder and slammed her fist against that glass ceiling that today she just cannot reach. It was one hell of a run which she would have similar runs in the future that brought here to her current destination but back at the beginning she was enjoying her run and she knew she had found the right formula of talent, gimmick and confidence.
It was at this time she had donned the face paint which was different to what fans around the world know now as Maki and Daniela conjoined within that paint but in this time frame no-one had donned such an image and she took off because of it. This face paint was different in essence but was similar to what is known now except it was more of a traditional Korean warrior war makeup and made her feel like she could take anyone down with it. Her ancestors fed her with power and resilience and her foes knew that they had to face the full might of the Korean warrior clan. She won before she even stepped foot through the curtain. It was an immense feeling.
She was sitting in this dingy dressing room applying the face paint, which took hours to do properly, and Max the booker stepped in. He smiled at her and sat on the bench as she was standing in front of the mirror.
“What can I do for you, Max?” She straightened out his shorts and looked at her back, that ridiculously long wavy black hair was so magical but he knew what she should do with it and mentioned it many times prior.
“Mel, have you thought of putting white streaks in your hair? She stopped with the white paint, gave herself some seconds to sigh loudly and then roll her eyes.
“I am not into looking like my mother for crying out loud!” He looked down at the floor, he secretly had a thing for her, which she knew but never played up to as she was engaged in a love triangle as it was and didn’t need more annoyance in her life.
“I have to talk to you about next week. I made a booking decision in regards to your run. It deserves… He trailed off as he looked up at her and she turned to face him. She wondered why he would not just say what he came to say for flub sake!
“Spit it out, soldier boy. I gotta get ready for Mayhem tonight, remember?” He stood as she continued to stare,
“I am booking you for your first championship match next week for the winner of tonight’s Television championship match.” Before she could say anything he was gone. She looked around and had no sight of him or anyone.
So.
She screamed.
She did a little dance.
Television champion. The champion of television was hers for the taking and she would lead all television for the entire county.
She did win and won her first championship in America. She went on to win many more but it was in this moment, no matter the killer run she was on, she knew that killer instinct she often wondered about her opponents and if they had it. She did and when gold was on the line Maki was all in!
Cry Me A River, Bitch! We opened up as you do in a bar in downtown sin city. A very denimed up Melissa Aki was doing what she does when she is in a bar and that’s causing spontaneous bar fights to happen. She went from one person to another Makihouse Kicking everyone and slamming beer bottles over people’s heads until she broke one, looked at the jagged edge and started to slice it into her left cheek and laughed loudly as the blood started to pour down her face. This act of disgusting masochistic ingenuity halted the bar fight and everyone left.
Maki was on her own in her denim jacket and skirt. She tightened her pigtails and screwed her face up which enabled the blood to flow even stronger.
“Like these morons who scatter as soon as they see who I am you will too Myra. Everyone is all scared of the big, bad demon. Well, guess what, you utter imbeciles, Daniela fled. I am empty of the demonic presence so come here honeylove. Come to mama. I won’t bite...actually that’s a lie. I will bite you and enjoy tasting your skin break. Oh it’s so heavenly. Why not try it, Myra love? It will change your life. The salty skin as it breaks and the iron taste of that red flowing river of beautification Yum Yum for my Tum Tum. Ha!” Her face changed from the maniacal laughing masochist to one who had laser focus as she smeared her hand over the cut in her face and across the rest of her face so she almost resembled a clown.
“How do you feel Myra? How does it feel to face up to the failure that you truly are. I mean sure I lost to Jessie and cannot even remember the finish to my match with Sierra, I am still partially injured and yet I feel your self-doubt. It shines off you like the light shines off your hideous skin. Do you have scars and deep regret? Oh how delicious. I know the likes of you, Myra and you flatter to deceive. You fool all these idiots into believing you are a great champion but anyone worth their salt would do their research and nine times out of ten you find this way to win despite being outclassed but now you have one of the best in the world in your line of sight. On my day I can beat anyone and you are not even worth a god damn broken fingernail. Let me ask you a question I always asked as a champion: Have you made that title relevant and mean something? I doubt you have to be honest. You’re a gatekeeper and it’s time to let the real relevant champion walk through and take what is obviously mine even though I didn’t even know I wanted it.” She leaned against the bar, took a beer and downed it and then burped loudly. Her mate Brett should be here, she thought. Why was it that everyone she came into contact with ended up ridiculing and hating on her? She shrugged. Just the life of someone at the top of her profession she guessed.
“I will not lose this match. Myra, you can claim that you’re the champion of the bombshell internet, you can claim to be this experienced championship hoarder but don’t dress it up. You’re a has been whose day in the sun has turned her into a raisin. You are also something I hate. You’re a do-gooder but worse than that you’re a contradiction of what you claim to be. You can call me a bitch, call me a motherjammer or to flub off I do not care. Cry me a river, bitch. You say you want wrestling to be held up to its highest morals and that you fight for the love of this industry so what you’re truly telling everyone who busts their arses off every god damn night is that they don’t do this for the love of the business or for glory or for the morals of our industry but only you can truly be held to the highest virtue of the land. YOU MAKE ME SICK! Then let’s look at the other side of the coin. This virtuous woman, who is champion of this web browser called bombshells, who truly loves the business, does not strut around with her arse sticking out and her tits falling all over the place? You contradict yourself you selfish god damn whore. If anyone does this for the love of the business is me.
Can you find a picture of me playing up to a camera, sticking my arse out for all those pervs or throwing my boobs out so all of those little sick puppies can pull one off on them? No I fight and I fight until there is nothing left of my energy. Look, Myra, you’re a little pathetic and very boring but you are a good fighter. I know you are more than capable of beating me. You’re the champ, I am the challenger. There is an obvious discord between us but Seleana is not in your future she is in mine! No matter what you think will happen will probably not happen the way you expect because someone like you would never ever imagine any other scenarios and I am a hundred moves ahead of you Myra. I want you to take stock of what you have achieved, sleep with my title, enjoy your limited time together. For Sunday I am the NEW CHAMPION OF THE BOMBSHELLS INTERNET! This has been my destiny since day one and sorry pet but failure is your only option!” A guy walks out of the toilet and slowly walks behind Melissa, who grabs another beer, starts to drink, Makihouse Kicks the guy and then finishes the beer off with an almighty belch worthy of any soon to be internet champion.
