[Sam Marlowe]

A familiar therapist’s room remains unchanged except for a few photographs hanging on the walls featuring the therapist with clients.  One such picture has the attention of a redhead who is lioking at it with a bemused smile.  The opening of a door behind her grabs the redhead’s attention and she turns with a raised eyebrow and smirk for the person that had entered the room.

“I can’t believe you put this picture up on your wall,” says Sam Marlowe, one thumb pointed back at the image of her and the therapist.

“Why wouldn’t I put that picture up on the wall?” asks Doctor Evans.  “Why would you say something like that Sam?  It is not like everyone can say they are friends with a hall of famer.”

Sam’s smirk changes to a smile as the therapist points to the couch motioning for Sam to take a seat as she moves to a large wing backed chair.  Sam walks slowly to the couch then slumps into the cushions, her smile fading and her shoulders drooping.   Doctor Evans can’t help but notice.

“You look like someone who lost her best friend Sam.  Care to talk about it?” asks Doctor Evans.

The redhead spares a quick glance before turning her eyes back to the picture.

“You know…that picture was from when I loved what I was doing.  Getting in the ring and winning…yes, I said it…I loved winning.  Then the winning matches got few and far between, so I took some time to re-energize and rehab from a surgery that I needed.  Then I made my triumphant return to the ring.  However, it wasn’t as successful as I would have liked,” Sam says with a huge sigh.  “And now, I don’t know why I am even back.”

Doctor Evans nods slowly as she writes something in the book on her lap.  “I seem to remember that you go on these little spirals when you don’t win then you put it behind you, put on your big girl panties and get right back into the fight. Maybe that is just the latest valley for you to deal with.  Tell me what you have coming up with your career.”

Sam once more spares a glance for Doctor Evans.  “Well, I guess you could say that I have been booked against someone thar likes to control the narrative if you can believe it.”  Here Sam chuckles at the confused look on the therapist’s face.  “She basically lies about things expecting the world to believe it.  You see, she is someone that can’t handle the truth, so she makes up her own reality to suit her narrative."

"Is she delusional?" comments the good doctor to herself which Sam hears and responds to. 

If you ask me, yes, she is,” retorts Sam with a sharp nod of her head.  “Let’s take a for example situation…”  Sam leans closer to the therapist as if she was going t share a secret.  “A friend of a friend of mine was in a match with this woman’s husband and she brought a bottle of perfume to the ring where it was used to blind my friend’s friend.  Then she proceeded to lie to say that she wasn’t responsible for blinding him because she says that she diluted the perfume.  I can tell you that wasn’t the case.  My friend’s friend smelt like he came out of a perfume distillery from what I could tell as he walked by me backstage.”

“Are you saying that what she believes and what you experienced was completely different?”

“I am saying that she is lying like cheap carpet,” exclaims Sam, her eyes widened to emphasize what she had said.   “Here, let me give you another example.  She is claiming that I bee with an itched her out all over social media.  Me!  I don’t do social media and yet, she lies and says I did.”

“Bee with an itch?  That is a new one.  What is that?” asks Doctor Evans.

Sam blushes and leans in to whisper the word ‘bitch’ before looking around to see if there was anyone she could have offended.  The doctor snickers at Marlowe before wiping a hand over her mouth.  “So Sam, I am getting that you are being accused of ‘bitchin’ about her on social media.  Have you given her reason to say that?”

“You know, I haven't said anything about Bea and what she did to Fenris.  Not because I didn't know what to say...it is because she isn't relevant to my life at all and if that is the case, why even say anything about nothing?” wonders Sam.  “I mean I get it, she wants to be relevant but I just ‘can’t be arsed to care’ as my Daddy likes to say.  If you ask me, she ugh!”

Sam rises to her feet and begins to pace angrily.  The doctor watches for a moment before talking. 

“Have you thought about what you should do about her?”

“Yeah, I have,” mutters Sam with a soft hmph of anger.  “I figure that I must knock some sense or at least fix her take on reality.  And the only way to do that is to beat her at her own game.  I have done it before, and I will do it again Sunday!  Thanks Doctor Evans, I think I have what I need to do.”

Sam smiles as she moves towards the door only to have the doctor’s cough stop her in her tracks.  Turning around with a look of curiosity, Sam watches the therapist close her book slowly then stand up and move towards her.  Doctor Evans holds out her hand to offer her a handshake. 

“Good luck Sam,” she offers.  Sam shakes her hand and then as she is leaving, she smirks back at Doctor Evans.  “I don’t think I need it, but Bea Barnhart might want it.”

Bravo Bea, once again you in your delusion have put your foot in your mouth to mix with all your lies.  And listen, do you even realize just how annoying it is to keep proving you wrong time and time again.  I declare, it is downright tiring.  But here I am once again in the position to have to point out just how much of a liar you are.  And how delusional when it comes to how you try and put people down.

Yeah, I saw what you did with your bulldog and boy color me impressed…NOT.  I get it, I really do.  Iris the little puppy dog pooed on command when you said my name.  How many dog treats and days did it take you to get the dog to do that?  Bulldogs are smart and all, but she is your pet after all.  Trust me when I tell you that I know for a fact that is training, not brains or smarts of the dog.  See, I worked with someone that was a puppy walker for a seeing eye dog group and you may not believe this, however, those dogs are trained to go on command.  Kind of like your little stunt that you pulled with Iris.   Ha ha Bea, good one…

I so didn’t think you would be too predictable this time out and once again, you proved me wrong.  I was prepared for you to be original, at least I was hoping you would be.  But no, you had to talk about how the ‘perfume’ was diluted and how you were all so innocent.  You built a whole reality of you not doing anything wrong and that every bombshell in the back was cursing you out about what you did to Fenris…oh wait, you did nothing didn’t you? 

Then you accused me…ME…of putting it all over social media that you did what you did.  Let’s see…I didn’t post about it on Twitter…I don’t have a Facebook page.  My Instagram isn’t set up yet…so where would I have said anything about you?  It is almost like you think you know me well enough that you would be on my social media.  Sad part Bea is that you don’t even register for me.  I couldn’t be bothered to worry about posting things about you.  The only reason I am saying anything at all right now is because you get to face me on Sunday and that I get first dibs on facing you out of all the bombshells backstage.

Now I noticed that you mentioned our one and only match from about this time last year.  A match that you told everyone that I won.  And now here we are again a year later and you still need to have some sense of control in a world that for you is spiralling out of control.  You peeved off a lot of people when you do what you do.  I know that people have been blowing up social media about it however, you chose the wrong person to say she was running her mouth.

I don’t need to run my mouth, Bea.  I don’t care one way or another about how you feel or what fantasy you are living in this week.  I am in the position right now to be your opponent on Climax Control and seriously if you are looking for me to mouth off about our match, that isn’t my style.  See, I know what I am capable of and trust me, when it comes to facing you, I know that when push comes to shove, there isn’t going to be any way for you to get out of facing me.  I don’t care about you now and three seconds while I pin you to the mat, I will be able to stop caring about you again.  The time in the ring where I am facing you across it, you are the only thing that will have my focus.  Laser focus on beating you into a new reality where you have to accept that you can’t lie your way out of the beating I am going to give you.

Now I know you have this thing about the bombshells backstage and the perfume they wear.  I promise Bea, that is something you aren’t going to have to worry about in this match.  When it comes to wrestling, I don’t wear perfume.  I don’t get dolled up like some ‘tramp’ you accuse me of being, I am all-natural girl next door bombshell and that is something that you can’t handle isn’t it.  You who must lie to make yourself feel better, you just can’t handle the truth can you?  And the truth is, I am going to be beating you in the middle of the ring and there isn’t anything you can do to stop me.  Oh you will try and you will want to beat me but you can’t and that is the gospel truth.

I hope Bea that when I beat you, you won’t try to lie and say you took a dive just so you can excuse your loss.  I am going to tell you something Bea, cameras don’t lie…video doesn’t lie and neither do I.  Truth is, whether I use the Sammi Wrap or the sammisault, the result is going to be the same.  The winner of the match is going to be me.

Truth hurts don’t it?