Greetings and Salutations, Sin City Wrestling.
I believe a proper introduction is owed to you. My name is Franchesca Holliday. Most people call me Frankie. It’s a lot easier to say for most people. Just rolls right off the tongue, I think. You know, I never liked it, but it eventually grew on me. Oh, I’m sorry, where are my manners? This is an introduction.
I have signed with Sin City Wrestling in an effort to compete at something I find very enjoyable. And I feel that this is an excellent release for some pent up emotions. If you have been following my journey, I’m simply telling you my story and how I came to be the person I am today. Today, we continue that journey, but there is an added bonus.
You see, I have followed Sin City Wrestling for some time. And like many companies, businesses or enterprises, there are ebbs and flows. Ups and downs if you will. And SCW has certainly hit the down part. And I don’t want the company I grew up enjoying to have this kind of problem when I am in a position to fix things. So that’s what I’m going to do.
Wait… no. No no no. “Fix” isn’t the right word. That implies that it’s simple and won’t take me time. I am allotting for quite a long amount of time, because there is much work to do. You know what the word is?
Change.
I’m going to change you, Sin City Wrestling.
I have been tasked with my first match, since I have signed up to compete in the Blast From the Past tournament. And I find it very fitting that my first match in a tournament, stands out as the only triple threat match of the whole deal, on either side. I will say I did miss the random mixed tag team format, but I find this to also be a much simpler design. And there is such beauty in simplicity.
I find myself traveling to Sweden of all places to make my debut. And this being a triple threat match, means chaos. It means the unknown, it means the unpredictable. And I like it. I like it a lot. Fitting for the new girl to have to prove herself by beating not one, but two opponents.
Very well.
As I said, I am here to change SCW, and remake it in my image. And that begins by taking on Lilith Locke, and Melissa. This will take time. But, as I also said, I have allotted a lot of time to this process. When I am done, this will be an extremely different place. I will lead you to the future, Sin City Wrestling.
Take my hand, won’t you? You can trust me.
Can’t you?
Let us begin.
What you do in school is supposed to have some kind of impact on your life. It’s supposed to help shape you. To help you make career choices and find what you are good at, what you like and dislike. And a tiny portion of that is true. It’s miniscule, really.
The reality is that school is a glorified popularity contest that parents send their children through with the most unpopular people on the planet. And then it gets awkward and a group of basically strangers get to see how uncool you are while they are also uncool. It’s the world’s lamest fashion show, and then we learn how to properly use skills and emotions. Mostly pettiness, bitterness, jealousy and envy.
It’s a lot to manage but we all just do it.
You may think I’m just taking this wildly contrarian opinion or just being an edgelord or something, but it’s the truth. Nobody at any level of school is “cool”
Go ahead, think back on what you did in school. You wore ugly, uncomfortable clothing to impress people you don’t give two shits about. You said and did stupid shit. You tried your best to “fit in” with people that today, you probably don’t care to remember or have long since forgotten. You listened to teachers and educators that taught you to a standard of a test and really didn’t care otherwise. You made judgments. You bullied or you were bullied. You were judged. You were an asshole to somebody. You were a bitch to somebody you didn’t like. Or you received that abuse. Children don’t allow other children to walk away unscathed.
And then you have regurgitate a fuck ton of useless and impractical information, all so you can receive a piece of paper which basically states “I’m not the village idiot.”
School is strange.
Elementary school is probably the most civil of all, because we’re all just learning how to be students. Because for the most part, it is an enormous skill in everything we do. Still, we judged others on their appearance, what kind of clothes they wore, what they were into, and we decided whether or not we liked them like that really fucking matters at the end of the day.
But we were and are the future. We are part of one generation or the next.
But it is a complete shitshow getting there isn’t it?
I can remember my first day of school.
The Milwaukee Academy of Science. A pretty nice charter school that doesn’t have a history of crime or embezzlement that a lot of charter schools do. I was chosen by lottery, so I guess I can thank my mother for at least investing in my education. She told me I was a naturally inquisitive child so she wanted me to have a good education.
MAS treats PK-12 so I wouldn’t ever have to go anywhere else. And I would be with the same people for the entire school life. Which sounds great at first, but it really isn’t. But specializing in science made it appealing to me and I took to it with great excitement.
My mother did the job of teaching me to read, write, count, and spell before I ever entered MAS. I could have, if given the option, skipped Kindergarten altogether. Some of these kids were not as advanced as I was and I could tell. I was already forming opinions and the ability to just bluntly blurt out all the things kid say because kids are fucking subtle.
Anyway, my mother brought me to the door to meet the teacher, Mrs. Myers. I had previously met Mrs. Myers at orientation the week prior. She smiled brightly as she waved at me.
“Hello Franchesca!” Her voice was really cheery.
I smiled and waved back. “Are you ready for class today?”
I nodded and Mrs. Myers smiled again and nodded as she looked up at the clock before beginning to greet other students.
Some children were already crying about the fact that their parents were leaving them with pretty much a complete stranger. We are taught at an early age we should have a healthy fear of strangers, but this one was okay, I suppose. But this just goes against everything we learn before this moment, so some were apprehensive and nervous, and some downright scared.
My mother looked at me, kneeling down and clutching my shoulders and that same pained smile she wore like a glove.
“Are you going to cry when I leave?” She asked.
“No.” I replied with a shake of my head for emphasis. “You’re coming back to get me, right Mommy?” I asked.
“Of course. I’ll be right here when school is out.” Was her reply.
“Okay.” I responded.
That’s all I needed to hear. I found my name on the desk taped with some fancy and colorful label and sat down. Behind me was a little girl named Sheila Kopecky. In front of me, a boy named Mark Grey. We were listed alphabetically by last name, so they were the closest to me.
I looked back over where my mother was standing when I sat down and she smiled with that empty grin once more, blew me a kiss and I could see the tears welling up in her eyes. I got up and walked over to her. She knelt down and hugged me tightly.
“I love you.” She whispered in my ear, as I felt my shirt becoming wet from her tears. I smiled as I looked her in the face.
“I love you too.”
My mother was taking pride in me. I walked back over and sat down, turning to look again, and she was gone. I looked ahead and Mark was still clinging to his mother and hoping she wasn’t going to leave. But she had to, and Mark sniffled his way to accepting this. I looked back at Shiela,and her parents or whoever had long since left, and Sheila was laying out pencils and a notebook. She also had a weird white thing on her desk I had never seen before. I turned completely around to see her.
“What’s that thing?” I asked, pointing at it.
Sheila looked up at me and picked up the small white object.
“My inhaler.”
“What’s it for?”
“I have asthma.”
I was confused. I had heard the word before but only because my doctor checked me for it when I was a bit younger than I was. All I knew was that I didn’t have asthma, whatever it was. Sheila could see I was lost.
“It helps me breathe when I don’t feel good.” She finally brought me up to speed.
“Oh. Okay.” Was my only response. I didn’t really know what else to say. I wanted to question her further, but even then it felt weird. Like, why am I interrogating this girl? I don’t even know her. I hadn’t even introduced myself.
I turned back around and got my own pencil and notebook prepared. All the parents had finally gone and it was time to learn. But very quickly I learned that I was already ahead. Some of those kids couldn’t read or write.
And thus began my superiority complex. I was better than these other children.
I was superior, I could do these things with ease and they were struggling. Part of me wondered why this was happening. We learned to count and spell and all that fun stuff. It was odd to be away from my family, but it felt more positive than anything. My mother could do things she wanted and well.. Charlie was going to do whatever he wanted anyway.
Once the first day ended, I was even curious about asthma and what it was about. I did a bunch of research, even at 5 years old, I knew what I was looking for. I learned about the 4x4x4 rule and how to care for someone with it. I got as much information as my tiny brain could remember and was eager to share my findings with Sheila, but obviously, she would have already known.
Sheila was pretty much the only person that I talked to consistently. I would occasionally talk with other children in my class, but I don’t remember the vast majority of them with any sort of specific memory, with the exception of Andy Beltrami. Andy was a bigger child, and thus, a bully. He was pretty aggressive when it came to toys and acted out quite a bit.
It was fascinating to see him just be perfectly normal at one moment, and then when something didn’t go his way or, even if nothing actually happened, he just had an impulse to abuse and torment everyone in class. Why are some little kids such assholes to everybody for no reason? You wouldn’t think that a charter school would tolerate this, but it was excused by Andy just being a child. Andy’s mom was called a few times, but this behavior continued.
Until Andy threw a football at my head. It dinged me slightly, but still hurt. I told my mother about it through tears.
“Don’t worry about it sweetie. You have to ignore bullies. Once they see they can’t hurt you, they will leave you alone.”
This seemed like the correct answer so, at first, I chose to heed my mother’s advice and ignore Andy. But the rude behavior continued. So, after the second football was thrown at my head, I decided that this wasn’t going to stand anymore. I searched on how to best get revenge on a bully. And most agreed with my mother that ignoring the bullying makes the bully lose interest. This, as it turns out, is a load of horseshit. Bullies will try even harder to get a rise out of you and Andy made sure I was annoyed. He never really demanded money or anything. He just… acted like a little asshole the majority of the time. So, actions needed to be taken.
I noticed Andy loved action figures. He brought them for show and tell, he played with them at recess and wouldn’t let anyone touch them. I now knew what I needed to do.
So, one day after show and tell, and while we were having some quiet time, I made my move.
“Mrs. Myers, Can I get paper from my backpack?”
“Go ahead, Franchesca.”
You see, our backpacks and coats were in a separate room. I went out, and found Andy’s backpack and grabbed his Spider-man action figure. I put it in my bag, and returned in no time with paper. At the end of the day, Andy was none the wiser. I took it home, and Spider-Man became a patient on my make-shift operating table.
Yes, stealing things is wrong, but… meh.
Andy spent the next few days angrily searching for his action figure and swearing up and down it was in his bag. Mrs. Myers helpfully suggested that perhaps they fell out of his backpack. Andy stopped bullying for a while, but it all came to a head when he pushed me off a swing at recess. I finally got my chance.
“Don’t ever touch me ever again!” I shouted in the most shrill voice I could.
Andy just laughed.
“You can’t do anything to me, you ugly toad!”
I don’t know why he went with “toad” but he did. I opened my coat and pulled out the torso of his Spider-Man action figure. It still had the “AB” initials that Andy’s mom most likely put on it to signify it belonged to him. I held it in my hand and showed it to Andy, who got very upset upon seeing it.
“If you ever bully me again, you won’t get ANY of this back.”
Andy became enraged and demanded I give him the torso. He came forward, and one of the very few pieces of advice Charlie ever gave me, came to me.
“If boys try to grab you, you kick ‘em in the nuts.”
So, I did.
Andy went down like a sack of potatoes and screamed in pain. He told Mrs. Myers shortly thereafter, but due to his bullying and nasty behavior, Mrs. Myers took my side. Andy of course then told them I stole his action figure, which I denied. I know lying is wrong, but in this case… meh. My bag and pockets were searched, but while Andy was crying his eyes out, I hid the torso in the sandbox on the playground, so they never found anything.
And after that, Andy hated my guts, but he never bullied me ever again. And I never gave him that action figure back, just in case. I figure his mom bought him a new one or something. My mission was accomplished either way.
Andy did continue to act out and bully other children the rest of kindergarten, but… I’m no hero.
They can figure it out.
I have the weight of the world on my shoulders. I am the future after all.
Wasn't that fun?
Anyway, I suppose I shall speak to both Melissa and Lilith. First, Melissa.
It is an honor and a privilege to be able to welcome you back Melissa.
I have followed your career here in Sin City Wrestling and I have to say I am… I am underwhelmed to be honest with you. I think everyone really is. I expected more, and so did everyone else. You have been wildly inconsistent, coming and going and disappearing for months to years at a time. You said you were looking to make your mark on the company, and yet, you make a small indent and just as soon, it’s fixed and your mark is gone.
Yes, you won some championships and that’s nothing to scoff at. But at this point, it feels more like this is a desperate attempt to remain relevant. You know good and well you’re not cut out for this anymore. You know it’s been far too long and you should just stay away. You know deep down in your soul that this isn’t worth it anymore. The game has passed you by, as it has pretty much everyone that you competed against. Surely you must be aware of this. Mercedes Vargas and Kat Jones? Has-beens and Ariana Angelos is about the closest thing to a never-was as can be and she has as many title victories as you do.
So, it makes me believe that you have tried to make a mark, and got a little bit of success, but it was fleeting. So the odds really don’t favor you right now Melissa. You’re going to come back and fail again. That’s where we stand. If we’re being honest with each other right now, and hey, I know, you don’t know me, I’m the new girl here but I’m still going to give you the helpful advice you need. So let’s be honest with each other right away. I was always taught that it is the best building block to a healthy relationship. The honest truth is, I’m torn.
On one hand, I need to beat someone like you. Even with the miniscule amount of credibility you have, you still have more than I do. So, I need you to show up and do your thing and dance around and feel that middling reception you’re going to get, come to the ring and wrestle me, and then I need to beat you. It’s really a simple thing.
But on the other hand, you know good and well you showing up is only going to lead to that outcome. Deep down in your heart, you are aware that this isn’t your time anymore. It’s my time. I am the future, or as it was, the present. This whole thing is about me. I am the person whom Sin City Wrestling has tasked with changing the whole game, not you. You are irrelevant at this point and really there is no need for you to show up and suffer the embarrassment of losing to me and then going back into hiatus for the foreseeable future. Because if you are sticking around, it means I have to change you too.
And honestly, again, I don’t have the time or patience to really change you when you don’t matter.
I have a grand plan and you are just the stepping stone that I step on and then I don’t think about afterwards. It’s really that simple. The plan doesn’t require you to try and reclaim lost momentum or the tiny amount of faded glory you once had. I want you out of the way. I need you out of the way.
But you can clearly see my dilemma here, correct? It’s not lost on you? I need you to just do me a solid here and just accept what this is and let me get on with my work. Because my work going to be a long, arduous process and you gunking it up would be really fucking rude and I haven’t said anything rude to you, have I? I’ve been nothing but cordial. I have not raised my voice, I haven’t lied about you. I was very polite if I do say so myself. I started this whole thing by telling you what an honor it is to face you.
And yet, I can sense this growing hostility. And I don’t like it, Melissa.
I might have said some things about you that you perhaps find offensive or rude, but they were not intended that way. If you took them that way, then that really says more about you than it does about me. I am merely stating the truth and the shared consensus of your contemporaries. You haven’t lived up to expectations, I think we can both agree on this topic. You haven’t competed, nor won a championship in Sin City Wrestling in over 2 years. You have been absent, and long since forgotten. I have been trying this entire time to give you the respect you deserve and I just keep getting the sense that you are going to be very ungrateful about this and treat me as if I know nothing and I’m just some little girl who knows nothing.
I know more than you think Melissa. I believe I have shown this with this little chat we are having. I could lie about you, but what’s the point? I’ve demonstrated all there is to care about with you, and I’m trying to make that count for something, and I’m doing it for you. But if you insist on all of the hostility and being ungrateful, I will oblige you. I will put you right back into obscurity on Sunday. I will take you out and if you persist I will ensure that you do not return to the ring for a very long time, if ever again.
That’s the game we’re playing Melissa. It can be very easy, and I can beat you and then, hey… you can say you played a part in the biggest game-changing event in Sin City Wrestling history.
Or you can be wiped out.
You can be a good soldier and play the part I need you to play, or I can break you like a toy and put you in the scrap pile.
The choice is really yours Melissa.
Do yourself and your peers a huge favor and make way for the future. Please?
Moving on, it is always fascinating to me to try and figure out what makes a person tick. I believed once this match was announced that I was being given a very tough nut to crack as it were, when it came to Lilith Locke. I took a look, I stared into that abyss and I saw what was ahead of me.
I am scared, Lilith. Terrified, even. Quaking in my boots, as it were.
Okay, no. I don’t want to disrespect you like that. It’s an insult to both mine and your intelligence. On with this.
Does this whole scary-girl spooky bitch thing like… supposed to be that way? Are you really going with that? Do you think that sounds scary or intimidating?
I hate… Well, no, this has to be said: You really don’t have the first clue about what evil actually is. You just think you do. You put on a mask, you use voice distortion and that is what you think evil or something crazy is. It’s just showing a lack of imagination and creativity to me.
Come on, show me something Lilith. Show me how evil you are. Show me how crazy you are. Because all I’m getting now is the same type of jump scares that people think passes for horror today. Let me explain this to you: I can jump out of the bushes and startle you. Will you be scared of me? No. Of course not. You’ll jump and recoil, but you don’t really have a fear of me. That’s what you’re doing. You jumped out of the bushes and yelled “boo” and I’m more annoyed than anything else. Because it’s cheap. You’re like… 2000’s CGI monster effects. It looks bad, it sounds bad, it’s just bad.
Your words are just hollow, you understand this, right? You don’t scare anybody with them. “I’m going to crush your windpipe oooh boogie boogie boogie.” That’s you. Have you crushed a windpipe yet, Lilith? Have you felt the last bit of air escape a person’s lungs? Because if you have… first of all, that’s awesome, but if you truly had, you really wouldn’t be bragging about it, or threatening people with it. Tell me Lilith, are you really going to do all those horrible things you say to me too? I have yet to see you gouge an eye out or anything like it. I don’t want you to threaten me with that if you’re not going to do it. If you’re going to actually choke me, I need your tiny hands flexing for all their worth. Tense, white-fucking-knuckled. I don’t want you to say it unless you mean it!
No Lilith, I want to FEEL that shit. You will have to try much, much harder than that to really make me feel the fear you want me to feel. Because I’ve felt true fear and you, you are not giving it to me. The psycho babble doesn’t make me feel intimidated. It just feels rehearsed. You can tilt your head to the side like a dog, because you think it makes you look strange. You can ramble on and on about crushing things and digging your fingers into eye sockets and whatever you think makes you sound threatening, but it’s just not gonna work for me.
You see, as I said, I need to feel it. That’s the key to a good sense of horror and dread. Horror isn’t a look, it isn’t a word, it isn’t a voice. Horror is an atmosphere. It is the unknown. It’s what I don’t see, that makes me afraid. It’s not knowing what’s actually there. You’re giving away all your secrets without even trying, Lilith. You’re not going to make me squirm or have that sense of apprehension if you just give me all the blood, guts and gore right away.
Besides, even if you did it the right way, it’s still not going to really bother me.
I used to fucking cut people open for a living, Lilith.
Well, I guess in the proper sense they weren’t people. They were cadavers. I don’t know, do we class cadavers as people? They’re just a corpse, right? Anyway, I had them laying on the slab. I cut them open with a scalpel, and then had to use bolt cutters to break their ribs. I’ve had all kinds of human pus, blood and all kinds of others fluids explode in a big juicy fucking fountain on my table. So no, Lilith, I am not going to be worried about anything you have to say.
No Lilith, I will take you and Melissa and I will beat you both and then, I will move on. I will force you to be who you really are at the end of the day. You will have to look at the woman in the glass and know that you’re cheating her. The role you’re playing isn’t working anymore. Some people may be afraid of you, but I can assure you, I am not. I have dealt with the horrors of the world and I can come out the other side with the knowledge of what’s real. You, Lilith, clearly haven’t.
You just need some therapy. Or to grow up and stop pretending that you are as dangerous as others make you out to be. They may build you up, but I will break you down. In fact, I already have. Just like that.
You call yourself chaos, you call yourself twisted, but right now, your blood boils with rage as I didn’t even need to try that hard. I have turned the chaos on you. Because you just think you understand chaos, you haven’t lived it. You’re angry right now, partly because of what I said, but more so because what I’ve said is the truth. It’s your dirty little secret. And with these words, I will change you.
Can you fathom the depths I will go to change everyone? Especially when I start with you?
Just something for you to consider, Lilith. Think about it for the next few days. And while you do that, just remember to look at that woman in the glass. Because she is clearly very disappointed in you. I will change you Lilith. I’m going to make it a goal of mine. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll just get bored after I beat you and move on to another toy to play with.
Maybe. Maybe not.
But you won’t know until after Sunday.
See? That’s the atmosphere I love. Uncertainty.
Enjoy it, Lilith.
Ladies, I will see you soon. I just know we're going to be good friends.
