[Frankie Holliday]

I am your champion, Sin City Wrestling.

Now do you believe me?
Now do you trust me?
Now do you understand what I am trying to do?

This is important! I am changing lives and I need you to get on board with me so that I can inf- I mean affect lives. Careers even! But what I don’t need is you doing the same thing over and over again. We are done with the cycle of random championship matches and random contenders on random shows. It’s OVER. This should be the last goddamn time that any champion has to go through this.

I should be celebrating, and I did for a couple of weeks. I drank and smoked and fucked. I had a good time. Because I am at the top. I am on top. And I will stay there because this company NEEDS me. You understand, it needs me. There is no need to pussyfoot around and have some kind of peaceful transfer of power.

No. I am in charge, and I am changing things. There is a vision here.

So, I’m going to let this one slide. But this is the last time.

The very last time.

“We’ve got some hot girls for you, we’ve got some great drinks. So sit back, and relax. Coming to the stage at this time… Get seduced by … Sin.”

That was my name. I suppose it fit me at the time. Or… really, it still does today. But that’s not the point.

I was one of the more popular girls, but there were girls who were better dancers, looked trashier, had a bigger ass, bigger tits and whatever, but I made due with what I had.

I had come pretty far using my assets, so I felt a sense of pride dancing on that stage and taking my clothes off. Pretty far indeed.

I danced on that stage and I felt good about myself. I didn’t really enjoy myself though. I understood that this was a business and these dudes, and some girls, were paying customers. We gave them naked women and booze. I learned during this time that the weirdos were the ones without a vice. We all have skeletons,

They just have more.


One of the things I actually bought for myself was a bike. I was able to get around. I really had enough for a small car, but the whole idea of having a car didn’t appeal to me. A bike wasn’t the greatest thing in the world, but it would enable me to be more vigilant when it came to the road.

I used the bike to get to and from work without a hassle, and just putting it in Barry’s office ensured nobody was going to steal it. It helped me get around and I was then able to enroll in pole dancing classes to get better at my job. The pole left so many burns and scrapes on my body I looked like I had fallen off a fucking mountain sometimes. I fell a lot. Bruised my body up pretty bad, but after some hard work, I was pretty good at it.

Anyway, as “Sin” I was able to just play the role and have fun. Frankie’s problems were forgotten for a few hours. Sin did things for people. She got people off. Let their imaginations run wild. It was easy money to be “Sin.” It was fine. It was a living. But, even at 20, I understood that this couldn’t be a career. I needed to change things around.

I was still living with Heather, but at the same time, I was trying to find a place to live on my own. An apartment was going to eat into my money at an absurd rate. I paid Heather like $200 a month and bought some groceries from time to time. An apartment was going to be like $600 a month at bare minimum, and that was for the shitty ones. A decent apartment would have been over a thousand dollars a month. That was going to take my money faster than I could make it. It really wasn’t worthwhile.

But I couldn’t live with Heather forever.

I biked around several neighborhoods and scoped out nice places to possibly live. I had like… maybe $8-9,000 with me. And I realized that this was a huge problem. I had some money in my account from home, but that was a local bank which… obviously wasn’t in Reno. I had to open a second account and so, I biked to Chase and put all my money into an account. It obviously looked a bit crazy that I was depositing so much cash into the bank, but I took all my money as cash. My pay from Barry, tips and the $200 bucks I charged the John’s for sex was all cash.

I didn’t know how the hell strippers did their taxes.

I did eventually get a W-2 from the IRS with all the stuff on it, and it matched so… I guess it’s fine. The IRS has yet to come after me for tax evasion, so… whatever.

Anyway, I kept looking at houses like I could actually afford one. That whole process was draining to even think about. The fact was I needed a proper place to stay, but I couldn’t really afford to live there long, nor could I continue to just live with Heather and Ryan with it being kind of awkward after Ryan and I hooked up.

I was making good money, just not a lot of it. And it goes fast, especially in a place like Reno.

One night, I decided to walk around and there was a house party going on. Some dude was having a fun get together with some friends. I decided to invite myself. His door was closed, but his backyard was wide open. There were people outside, drinking, laughing and having a good time. I let myself in and not one person questioned who I was or why I was there. I assume they all figured I knew the homeowner in some capacity.

A few I even recognized from trips to the strip club.

I had a couple of drinks, despite being underaged, but it wasn’t like someone was carding people. A guy I knew from the club came up and starting talking to me, I blended right in.

“Do I know you from somewhere?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how many trips you’ve made to Fantasy Girls.”

“Oh yeah. You work there? Yeah, yeah that’s right. How do you know Trent?”

I now knew the Homeowner’s name.

“The same way I know you.” I smoothly lied with a sly wink.

“Nice.”

It was around 2am, when the party began dying down. I made my way into the house where people were playing beer pong among other things. I explored Trent’s house. It was fine. Nice carpets, some hardwood floors and nice furniture which really tied the room together. People were leaving, and I found a spare room which was clearly used for storage. There were plastic bins with heaps of clothes and other items neatly stacked.

I figured by this point, I would just crash there for a bit.

I felt like I finally found a nice place to stay.

The only problem was there was already someone else living here. I was technically trespassing and squatting in his house, But… as long as he didn’t know, it wasn’t going to hurt him, or me.

I hid in the closet for a little bit until Trent, or… I guess it was Trent, turned down for the night. Once I was sure he was asleep, I got out of the closet. I couldn’t crash in a bed, that would be too obvious. I also didn’t want to eat his food, since that would be another giveaway. I wanted to be close to a door in case something happened, and I found I could climb into a little nook in his pantry. I got in there, and used some packages of cookies, Oatmeal and other stuff to hide myself from view. I spent the night cramped in that little hole. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked.

Trent left in the morning, making himself some eggs and coffee before skipping off to work. I watched him pull out of the driveway, and I now had the house to myself. I explored further, seeing where Trent actually lived. He had a home office, a nice living room and a nice bed. As far as I could tell, he was single. The toilet seat being up was a dead giveaway. That morning, I relaxed on his couch and watched some TV and took a nap on his couch. I went through his keys, and found the spare house key after testing it on some doors. So, because I hid in the storage room closet, I knew he never went in there. I went back, and unlocked the window to leave, and left it unlocked so that I could return later.

 I took it, and quickly went to a local hardware store and had a replica made. I now had keys to Trent’s house.

Not really knowing how long Trent would be gone, I made sure that I would be gone before he came back. I also had to work so I couldn’t just stay there forever. But I did want to come back. There was just something thrilling about the idea of staying in this man’s house without his knowledge. How long could I keep it up? What would he do if he found me?

It was very exciting to me.

I would stay with Heather after that on days I worked. Days I didn’t, I would return to Trent’s house. I always ensured I didn’t still have glitter or anything on me. I would always eat out so that when I arrived, I wasn’t bringing anything with me. No traces.

I was chilling in his house one day and saw his car pull into the driveway.

“Shit.”

I turned off the TV, and made my way to the storage closet as quickly and quietly as possible. I hid there until I heard him open and close the door again and the car started up. He must have forgotten something. I crept out and watched him pull away again.

A close call for sure.

It was fun, but at the same time, I understood that I needed more. I did need a permanent place to stay. But nothing here was going to work. Living in Trent’s home was a crime. Heather’s place was awkward. Everything else was too expensive. I had to find some kind of way to make a lot of money fast and large enough to sustain me.
 
Tough choices were ahead.


Congratulations, Cassie Wolfe.

You are an extremely lucky girl.

You are the last beneficiary of the previous way of doing things. You will serve as the final example of everything that was wrong with it, and why it’s going away. There won’t be anyone who undeservingly receives a championship match after you have this one.

I know you may think that winning your previous match gives you some kind of momentum, or some kind of fuel to possibly pull off this upset and fulfill all your dreams and become the Bombshell’s champion.

Sadly for you, it will be utterly meaningless.

Winning a match by basically default means you received this gift. You in your heart and soul know you do not belong here. You do not deserve to stand across the ring from me and try to beat me. Much less trying to beat me for this championship.

As I said, change takes a while, but slowly, over time, you will get used to them. So what I want you to do Cassie, is explain this to all your friends. Savor your one big chance to be in the ring with the Bombshell’s champion, because quite frankly, you do not possess the skills or talent to ever do so again.

And I am going to see to it. 

I will find the place for you, and it’s somewhere in the Roulette or maybe, just maybe the Internet division. You should never again even sniff at an opportunity for my championship. This is from what I remember, your first, and it should certainly be your last time in this position. You know this, I know this. Let’s not stand on ceremony and pretend that you have done anything worthy of being here.

You are wasting everyone’s time. Yours included. Because you don’t try to get better. You settle. You have at least the potential to be so much more than you really are, and yet, every time you are handed chances, you fail. Elimination chamber? Failure. Battle Royal? Failure. Please do not sit there and believe that because your last victory was against Seleana that it means anything. Defeating the absolute bottom of this division means zero. All it means is that you are a sentient being.

You’ve accomplished nothing. So much nothing that you were a fucking spectator at Violent Conduct. That is what you, a self-proclaimed “Wrestling Prodigy” was reduced to. You are nothing more than an extra body that this company throws out there from time to time just so that they can justify paying you.

And you have allowed that to happen.

Do you think that PTA gym or Hero Academy are proud of your laziness? Do you feel proud of your complacency? You should be apologizing to everyone and anyone who ever lifted a finger to try and train you because you are embarrassing them, and yourself by simply floating along and being nothing more than a body.

Maybe, just maybe it got through to you that you should take some goddamn initiative. You demanded a match, and you won. And for that, you deserve nothing but a pat on the back. And then maybe you can finally get the proper motivation to actually get better, so I don’t have to have this conversation with you. Because I’m telling you the truth. I’m telling you bluntly what others have probably, or should have if they were true friends, have hinted at for some time. I’m just relaying the message directly.

You. Are. Not. Good. Enough.

And really, I’m giving you too much credit by adding the “enough” at the end of those words. You are a sad sack, who will never amount to anything unless you make the drastic change, or embrace what I am offering.

But hey, you don’t have to.

You can do exactly what you’ve been doing all this time and float along aimlessly and assume that you will fall ass-backwards into matches like this. You can. The only thing that will happen is that you will find those opportunities will dry up. And once they dry up, you will continue to float along aimlessly and just be put into popcorn match after popcorn match because you didn’t actually make any progress.

You can stay on the hamster wheel forever if you like.  You don’t have to listen to me. What do I know?

But here’s the other side, Cassie:

You actually hone your craft. You put your focus on the right place and then you can actually compete and actually make strides. And then you can proudly walk around with an Internet or Roulette championship belt and you can actually hold your head up with some kind of dignity and respect because you will have actually earned it. You can stop looking for praise from your trainers because they aren’t going to give it to you. Stop fighting for their approval, and approval of yourself.. You can actually be something more to your skillset and talent level.

Is it a ceiling? Yes, Cassie it is. But it is a ceiling for a reason. It shows you just how far you can go.

No more relying on dumb luck to get where you need to go or to get an opportunity you don’t deserve. Those days are over. You fit right there in that little bubble, and within that bubble, you can go nuts. Do all the things you want to do. It allows you to live your best life. You can do anything you want, inside that bubble. It is, in my opinion, the best way to use you. It works for you.

You can make an easy choice, Cassie.  You can just do the same shit you’ve been doing and get the same results, which is none. You can continue to rest on the non-existent laurels you think you have. And just be another face in the crowd. Another name on the roster.

Or…

You can abandon what has gotten you to this point, and start anew. Do you really need the approval of people? Do you need your friends coddling you? Because it is those same people who have put you in the position you are in. You are only in this match because of dumb luck. After this? After you lose? You’ll be right back where you started. And those same people will hype you up once again. You’ll get right back on the hamster wheel and run run run until what? Because the days of falling ass-backwards into title matches are over. This is the last one.

And you’ll never earn another shot at anything without making a drastic change.

I can change you for the better. I will change you for the better, Cassie. You obviously want to live up to the ridiculous “Prodigy” standard, and although that’s just a nice pipe dream, you can still achieve a level of greatness on par with your abilities. I can do that for you. But this match? This match is to show you the level at which I have risen to, and it is one you will never achieve.

There is something there, Cassie. It’s not much, but it’s there.

And I can help you bring that something out of you. If you take my advice, that is.

But if you wish to be stubborn and hard-headed, you will suffer the consequences. I can scar you for life, Cassie. I can break bones, I can tear tendons and ligaments. I have had a few years of studying the human body and understanding how to manipulate it to where it causes you unimaginable pain. I can make you wish that you had never stepped into a ring at all. I can do all those things.

But I don’t want to.
So don’t make me. 

I mean, did you know that most bones in the arm can break with only 100 pounds of pressure?
Science is super fun!

You want this.
You don’t deserve this
But you do need this.

Trust me.