January 22nd, 2023
New Egypt, NJ
A black SUV rides through the wrought-iron gates on the outskirts of New Egypt. Past a couple of nondescript buildings, the SUV comes to a spot in a gravel parking lot. From an adjacent building, the sounds of metalwork can be heard. Grinding, welding. Occasional flashes reflecting off a dirty window. The door of the SUV opens and Eavan Maloney steps out, holding a black bag in her hand. An older redheaded woman, in a leather vest that says Madre, steps from a door of a well-maintained building and comes down the steps.
“You seem surprised.”
“Just didn’t expect you back so soon.”
“As luck would have it, I didn’t have to look very hard. In fact, it came right to me.”
Madre’s eyes are drawn to the bag for a split-second before looking at Eavan again. Eavan notices and smirks. The bag looks… well, it looks nasty.
“Aren’t you going to ask, Mother? You have that look to you.”
“Where’s the rest of it?”
“If I told you that, I’d be implicating you.”
“We’ve dealt with worse. Go toss the bag in the bin, your re-entry vote is going to start soon.”
As Eavan tosses the bag into the bin, it opens upon impact, revealing a severed head with blue hair. The head of Crystal Caldwell…
January 23rd, 2023
…Eavan awakens abruptly, wiping the hair from her face. She pulls on an oversized shirt and heads downstairs, her head still in a daze. As she reaches the kitchen, she takes a cup of coffee sitting on the counter and sits on the chair by the kitchen island. At the sink, her wife Adriana is finishing up the dishes.
Eavan only nods slowly, holding the cup with both hands.
“It’s just… I’ll be glad when it’s all over.”
“Have you decided what you’re doing?”
“Yeah. Going to keep up with my sessions in Canada, Luc has been very helpful. Far as the wrestling goes, so far the schedule is manageable. I have to respect my limits and set boundaries instead of letting people get more of me than I should be expected to give.”
“All of that sounds promising, you do sound better than you’ve been recently. What about…”
Adriana mimics the motion of putting on clothing, and Eavan looks down at her shirt before looking back up at Adriana, oddly.
“What? I’m dressed, or is that the problem?”
Adriana and Eavan share a sly smile.
“No, silly. Aren’t you supposed to be seeing Madre today?”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
“I let them down so many times. Thing is, it’ll be the same thing this time. I’ll be in as long as I stay in therapy. I’ll be watched like a hawk for months. I’ll practically be a prospect again. Plus I’ll have Madre over my shoulder. And I have to think of Emileigh as well.”
“That doesn’t sound like good boundary setting.”
“That’s the part I’m struggling with. Making it all work without making me or my head go kaboom.”
“I know you’ll do what’s best for everyone, just make sure you do what’s best for you first.”
“I love you, Addy.”
“I love you too, Evvy. Now may be the time you actually got dressed though. Can’t be showing up in New Egypt wearing a nightshirt.”
Eavan shrugs then laughs.
“Well, technically I could but it’s a bit nipply outside.”
“Yeah, and knowing how little you wear, you’d get chapped lips too. Go get dressed, dork.”
January 25th, 2023
6:12 am local time
We find Eavan Maloney sitting cross-legged, her head down in thought, on a pier as water laps behind her. Eavan is illuminated by the light or lights coming from off-camera. You can also hear the sounds of different motors idling coming from the direction of the lights. As Eavan raises her head slowly, a smirk just as slowly creeps upon her face.
Jessie Salco, the pleasure is all yours.
Eavan stands up, twisting her wrists as she rubs them.
I remember seeing a tweet of yours before the Invitational, asking which one you’d be playing gatekeeper against. Hmm, wonder what happened to Halsey. Honestly, I don’t care. To the shock of absolutely nobody, here you are as my first singles opponent. Before I get into it with you, friend, I need to send a message to our esteemed boss, Mr. Underpants. Um, Underwood.
Eavan chuckles to herself due to her take on her boss’ name, before getting serious again.
Christian, I can call you Christian, right? Shit, I just did twice so let’s just keep rolling on. Christian, what was it you asked me publicly not once but twice? How dare I ask for a title match without proving myself? Well, here’s the actual answer to that question. Unlike Salco there, I have no intentions of slaving away for a decade to get any form of deserved recognition. I don’t work by the hour. And behind all the bravado you were trying to spout out, you knew you had a money maker of a match in front of you. A match, and a feud, that WE made must-see. The deserving Hall of Famer, Jessie Salco. The Sawed-Off Sycopath, Eavan Maloney. The winner gets to face off against the most undeserving champion in SCW history, Chrystalina Revolving Door Last Name. And you know what, Christian, when I beat Salco, when I beat the chump… champ, I know for a damned fact that some in that locker room will say the same thing about me. How I’M the most undeserving champion in SCW history. And I’m fine with that, and I’ll tell you why.
Because EVERYBODY will want to remove the title from around my waist. In two matches, I could single-handedly revive the Bombshells Roulette title. My haters can call me a cancer, I prefer to think I’m an opportunist.
Eavan shrugs and gives a wry smile to the camera, before starting to jog in place and loosening up her shoulders.
I know, I know, I’m getting off track but I needed to say it at the first opportunity I had, but let’s go back to you, Jessie. You may not remember, but we’ve crossed paths before in a non-wrestling capacity. On a cruise a few years back, American Murder Log were musical guests. I don’t recall if you were due to fight Seleana, but she introduced us. I hung back to let Katra have the spotlight, I love watching her on stage and watching others watch her as well. I beam with pride in those moments. When I saw you, I thought you looked great. You still do, I like the aesthetic. Then I got to watch you wrestle and you became a bucket list opponent. Sadly, it took me a few years before I’d actually arrive in SCW. So I’ll be honest, I should be fan-girling right now.
I followed your career off and on when I could. I learned your story. Having to bounce from one family to another…
Eavan’s smile turns into a snarl as she talks, her mood changing with the tone of her voice and the choice of words to come.
…probably because you’re simply an unloveable bitch. Your parents didn’t die in a crash, they killed themselves. Saw you coming out your mama’s cooch and realized they were the unluckiest couple to be saddled… with you. Hell, I’d have done the same if I was your mother too.
Eavan makes a hand gesture of putting a gun in her mouth and pulling the trigger before winking to the camera.
Aww, look at you all mad. Look at you wanting to tear my head from my body and punting it into the fourth row. Do you think I give a fuck where you came from? Every single wrestler has some sort of sob story. You’re not special, you’re a statistic.
Eavan reaches into the front pocket of her hoodie and pulls out a sheet of paper, before turning herself sideways to let a light shine on it.
I’ll humor you, though, let’s break down your SCW achievements, I have them in front of me here. Three-time Bombshell Tag Team Champion, four-time Bombshell Roulette Champion, Bombshell Internet Champion, AND a Hall of Famer as of last year. Impressive, I’ll give you that. Hell, it can be argued that the two of us have had similar achievements. Multi-time champion. Hall of Fame careers. Shit, we’re two for two but what I don’t see is you ever being a World Champion, and that’s where the similarities end.
I get SCW has a great roster, and while I don’t have much respect for many of the people here, nor do they have any for me, it’s still a huge void in an otherwise stellar career. So why is that? Was it those years of never having a real family holding you back? Or was it because the harder you fought, the more everyone realized how limited you really are? Maybe you just hit a ceiling, and now ten years later, you may never get the chance to get back there again. You did tell me it’s been three years since you’ve had a title. MAYBE it’s time to take the gold ring, accept the accolades, and walk away. However, you seem to be too damn proud, having to live with all the holes in your life, so Underpants regulates you to the bottom of the ladder, having to face all these newcomers.
Eavan crumples up the paper and tosses it over her shoulder, before removing her hoodie to reveal a black and blue crop top. Eavan is bouncing off one ball of her foot to the other, ready to fight.
Whatever glory you think you can reclaim won’t be at my expense. At Climax Control, I’m coming into Irvine on a mission, and unfortunately for you, you stand in the way of that. Had it been any other titleholder, I’d have stood at your side to help you get there, but it isn’t just any other titleholder. It’s a bitch who’s coasted through the last five years with little to no consequence who consistently wants to call me family. So to get to her, I have to get through you. I’m probably the shortest opponent you’ve ever faced, but damned if I ain’t one of the most explosive.
The thing that intrigues me the most about this match, and really this division, and I’ll give Mr. Ward credit because I’ve mentioned Underpants enough already. Roulette Rules. It’s a fascinating concept, not knowing the type of match we’ll be walking into. I’ve been fairly lucky in Vegas, I’ve gambled a few times in my life. Hopefully it’s a barbaric match. Something that will allow me to show both SCW, and Crystal, what I’m willing to do to get what I want.
Eavan reaches into a back pocket and pulls out a picture of her and Crystal Caldwell together. Smiling, seemingly in a better place at the time of the photo.
And speaking of the blue-haired elephant in the room. Look at this photograph, every time I do it makes me laugh. You’re all smiles because you think life is good, drama’s down to a minimum. And I’m not laughing with you, I’m laughing AT you knowing at any second, I could knock you out or choke you out and you couldn’t do a damn thing to stop me. I know why you keep trying to be my cheerleader, and it isn’t the family connection you think we have. It’s because you know, deep down, that I would snap your neck and spit on your corpse. You also know Sel wouldn’t stop me and THAT scares you the most. So park your no-ass on that chair at commentary, and keep your mouth shut. And when I beat Jessie, I want you to grow a backbone and meet me in the middle of the ring and shake my hand. I want you to look into my eyes and see your demise.
The camera switches from Eavan’s face to the source of the lights. A half-circle of various military vehicles. Eavan leaps up and pulls herself up with one hand, before straddling herself on the barrel of a tank. The camera switches back to Eavan waving, showing off the vehicles behind her.
The war machine stops for no-one. See you in Irvine.