[As our scene opens, we find Mercedes Vargas lounging in the living room of her residence. The television serves as background noise as she is seen lying on the couch listening to a voice on the other end of her cellphone.]
.::MERCEDES::..
Can you believe it? It's been, what, four months, give or take, since I last won a match...It's a good thing I keep myself busy, otherwise I would be on the verge of boredom-induced coma.
[Mercedes reaches for the remote displayed on a coffee table.]
.::MERCEDES::..
No, sos te equivocas, y lo sabés! (You’re wrong, and you know it, too!) I don't plan on losing it anytime soon. Besides, there isn't a single girl on that roster that is on my caliber.
[The door buzzer sounds and she looks up at the intercom.]
.::MERCEDES::..
I'll call you back. Yeah, bye.
[Mercedes ends the call, placing her cellphone on the coffee table. Looking across at her trophy cause causes her to sigh heavily. The thoughts of her most recent title match last week came flooding back in her mind. She planned on walking out of Climax Control with the Bombshell Roulette Championship, but once again had nothing to show for it. At this rate, she could be challenged by just about anyone on the Bombshell roster and it wouldn't have made a difference. Tempest got the best of her. Again.
The door buzzer sounds again, interrupting her thoughts. She puts the replica Bombshell Internet championship back on the table and gets up to answer the intercom.]
MERCEDES::..
Yes? Who is it?
.::DELIVERY DRIVER::..
Delivery for a Mercedes Vargas?
[Mercedes looks confused.]
.::MERCEDES::..
I don't recall sending for any package. You sure you got the right address?
[The delivery person recants the address. The package did match the address.]
.::DELIVERY DRIVER::..
As sure as today is Sunday.
[Mercedes grabs her keys and heads out the door.]
TWO HOURS LATER
“Coming through! Move it or lose it!”
[Mercedes stood with her hands planted at her side watching a moving crew barges through her residence.]
.::MERCEDES::..
Um, can someone explain to me what's going on here?
[One of the movers, pulling a trolley, wipes a gloved hand across his forehead and glanced back at her. He had a heavy New York accent.]
.::MOVER:..
Oh, today is your lucky day, miss. You know how hard it is to get a flat screen up three flights of stairs?
.::MERCEDES::..
No, I can't really say.
Carmen enters the apartment, seeing her cousin. She looks around at the activity, confused as well.
.::MERCEDES::..
Did you have something to do with this?
.:: CARMEN::..
Your guess is as good as mine.
~~~
Blog: Almighty Firesemana del 10 al 17 de marzo de 2024 So close, yet so far. Story of my life, I guess. Despite the accolades and the championships and the recognition I've built over the years, it's really starting to take it's toll. An endless cycle of plane trips, hotels, bus rides, the matches themselves...
Maybe I have reached that moment of clarity.
I've been coasting for so long, that I haven't realized that my life had been on autopilot. I've been in this quicksand for so long that the harder I try to fight against it, the deeper it pulls me in, and when I'm looking for something to hold on to - there's nothing to hold on to. Don't mistake this as a sob story, I'm not looking for pity. It's through adversity where you find strength. I'd rather take the road less traveled than the easy way out.
That Bombshell Internet Championship was as good as mine, but Tempest seemingly had other plans, and that other plan was Seleana Zdunich. She took the pinfall, so you can imagine how last week made me feel.
Why am I competing away on Climax Control for the second consecutive weekend? I don't know, I'm not sure, and quite frankly, I don't care. And where I am on the card this weekend is so beneath me. Insulting. A waste of my time and a slap to my face. I'm not an opening match, I'm certainly not mid-card. I should be seen and not heard. I belong in main events and challenging for championships. But you know what? I'm all but accommodating. I'm going to be the consummate professional only because yours truly gets to face a newcomer to SCW in just her second match.
I don't always face newcomers in SCW, but when I do, it's usually because they're looking to make a statement. Well, credit where it's due, Erika Moore won her debut two weeks ago, albeit against another newcomer, but let's take away her shine. I'm willing to bet the instant our match became official, Erika told all her friends on Twitter and on message boards about her grand victory, and they should be proud of her. It's a great day in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Population: 181,099. (I bet she was prouder that her college team made the NCAA women's basketball tournament).
Now, I know what she's thinking. 'Oh, Mercedes is going to kill me this coming Sunday! What am I going to do? She's going to outclass, outperform, and outsmart me.' Erika's feeling a little intimidated right now, but she shouldn't sweat it. It's perfectly normal. I'm going to give Erika the benefit of the doubt. SCW is looking for the next bright young stars of tomorrow such as Erika Moore and Taylor Sweet to lead them into the future. And I know that day by day she's preparing herself for the match at hand, and she should. We're going to see if she's up for the challenge. We're going to find out a lot of things come Climax Control. This Sunday, she's not swimming with guppies, she's swimming with sharks. Call this her, oh I don't know, trial by fire.
Unlike the training she's got at wrestling school, I'm not going to coddle her, I'm not going to kiss her boo-boo and make it all better, and I most certainly WON'T handle her with kid gloves. Once that bell rings, the gloves come off.
In this company, I've seen a few Bombshells come and go. Most haven't even make it out of their first month. Sadly, more don't even make it after their first match. And knowing that Erika was trained by, let's hope, a good wrestling school, I hope that's not going to be the case with her. No matter what happens, I want her going into Climax Control this weekend at her best. I want her to push yourself harder than she's ever pushed herself before because she's going to need a little bit of luck and a whole lot of talent if she has any plans of walking out with her hand raised and a little bit of momentum on your side ahead of Blaze of Glory. Hopefully, this weekend will be better. If the trip to Stanford, California won’t make it worthwhile, I’m sure my next opponent will. Then again, I've been wrong before.
Except when I'm not.
Congratulations, Erika, you've made the big time. Now here's your chance to take the next step in your career.
You get one shot. Better make it count.~~~
New day, new week, same story. Or maybe I'm living my own Groundhog Day."
[Mercedes is behind the wheel of her convertible, the orange glow reflecting off the side view mirror. She turns down the radio.]
.::MERCEDES::..
You know, while I love quiet time, I'm not much of the silent type. At least say something.
.::CARMEN::..
Sorry, Merce. Let me fill out these last few questions....and done.
[Carmen shuffles paperwork, pins them together with a paperclip, and stores them away in a briefcase.]
.::CARMEN::..
Now, to answer your questions before you think I was ignoring you: Yes; No; UCLA should have won the NCAA Tournament; Probably; UCONN is overrated; I did file my taxes before April 15; I went to church on Easter Sunday; the message wasn't that great; and no, you're life isn't a retelling of Groundhog Day. Truman Show, definitely.
.::MERCEDES::..
Wow. You got all that? I'm impressed. I guess what they say is true.
.::CARMEN::..
What's that?
.::MERCEDES::..
The more things change, the more they stay the same?
.::CARMEN::..
So how was your week?
.::MERCEDES::..
My week?
.::CARMEN::..
Yeah, “Hell Week”. That's what you keep calling it.
.::MERCEDES::..
Right, “hell week.” Well, it certainly was hellish.
.::CARMEN::..
I think we got that part down. Come on, how was it?
.::MERCEDES::..
Nothing this weekend warrior wants to talk about, let's leave it at that.
.::CARMEN::..
It couldn't have been that bad, could it?
.::MERCEDES::..
You try having five matches in six nights, trying to avoid malaria in the Ivory Coast, then having to go to San Antonio and Las Vegas on top of that and see where that gets you.
[While Carmen would not readily admit she was a fan of new wave, there were some scant music choices on thecdial. Blondie, Van Halen, Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young. Carmen reaches for the radio and turns the nob to a rock station as the DJ gives the weather report.]
.::MERCEDES::..
You know, I'm beginning to think this was a bad idea.
.::CARMEN::..
What?
.::MERCEDES::..
I can't believe you talked me into this. I must have been out of my mind.
.::CARMEN::..
You're telling me this after two days on the road and crossing 9 states?
.::MERCEDES::..
Ten states, but who's counting. Did you hear the forecast? An extreme heatwave is across the country, and we had to go through it.
.::CARMEN::..
Well, if you can't stand the heat...
[Mercedes slows down to a crawl, turns down the radio, stop talking and pulls over on the wide shoulder of a deserted road.]
.::CARMEN::..
What's going on?
[She tosses the keys to Carmen.]
.::MERCEDES::..
Drive.
[REC•][The scene opens with a birds-eye view of unpaved road somewhere in Bronson Canyon in Los Angeles, California with nary a cloud in the sky. The camera pans across an expanse of clay, inhibited mostly by scorpions, lizards, and tarantulas. At last, through the shimmering heat, a long figure appears. The clip-clop of horse hooves across the dusty trails of a paltry California afternoon. The camera pans up to the rider. Dressed in a simple Reba Wool cowboy hat, blue jeans and a colorful top, Mercedes Vargas sits deep in the saddle and applies pressure with the reins as she comes to a stop. She is standing at the mouth of Bronson Cave, the tunnel entrance best known as the mouth of the Batcave from the 1960s Batman TV series.]
“Well…that was unexpected.”
[She continues on a trail and nearly tramples on a rattlesnake underfoot. When Mercedes reaches out her hand towards the long limbless reptile, it flattens its head and body, vibrating its tail and hissing at her as she slowly doubles back.]
“Okay. That was too close. Never know who you'll run across in these parts. And you know, the same can be said for my match this weekend.'
[Mercedes watches her surprise visitor as it finds shelter among some rocks a few feet away. Mercedes dismounts. With a nervous laugh, she wipes a hand across her forehead and moves on.]
"We're a lot different, Erika Moore, a lot more than you know. I mean, you're from America, I'm from Argentina. You're a country girl at heart with an even bigger heart of gold, I'm very animated at times, but I'm working on overcoming that. You like country music. I usually go for Spanish music. I could go on."
[Mercedes shoulders her backpack and replaces her canteen in its pouch before looking back at the camera.]
"You're still a novice who has yet to know whst winning a championship is like, while I am a multi-time women's champion, which isn't my first rodeo.
"It's a joke.
"Oh, come on, anyone could have seen that one a mile away!"
[Mercedes stops for a moment, taking off her backpack and sets it down on the ground. She takes a sip of water from her canteen to keep herself hydrated from the extreme heat.]
"I'm going to apologize to you, Erika, because no one deserves this, especially you. So, if I hit a little harder than I use to, I hope you can forgive me. If I happen to be more vicious than usual, I hope you can forgive me. There's a good chance you probably won't, but that's okay, too. I'm willing to accept it."
[Her eyes doesn’t meet the camera as she looks down, smiles to herself, then looks up again, her tone needing time to catch to her emotions.]
"I've suffered a lot of defeats, but I keep coming back for more. I know that I haven't been winning lately, but that's what makes this match so important. You get the opportunity to see if you have what it takes to beat a established veteran in SCW. I hope you'll remember to bring your ring gear and bring your A-game. Anything less and I'll make sure this match ends quick so you can make it to bed by ten. Care to prove me wrong?"
[She opens her arms wide in defiance.]
“Erika, I hope you’re ready…because I sure will be. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. And may the odds be ever in your favor. See you Sunday.”
***FADE***
