Dance Like A Marionette, Swaying to the Symphony

Samantha Tolson-Anderson is seen walking down a North Carolina beach, wearing a think white cover-up that allows her bright blue bikini to shine through. Her feet are bare, even in the chill of the surf that laps onto the Carolina coastline.

“You know, wrestling is a funny business sometimes. I mean, we all do these promotional bits, extolling our own virtues. We push our own thoughts and agendas forth, lay them bare for the world to see. This isn’t a huge secret. We pump ourselves up to the proverbial Nth degree, all in an attempt to attract eyes to what we do.”

“So we’re not that much different, you and I. We each talk about what we’re going to do to the other, blah blah blah. It’s to the point where it’s gotten old. So I’m done talking about it. I’m done telling you that I’m going to beat you come Starrpower, Kendrick.”

“I’m going to flip the script a little and tell you exactly why.”

Samantha stops for a moment, looking at the camera with a soft, yet sadistic, grin.

“You see, Kendrick Kross, you believe in your heart of hearts that you have an ounce of control in this little tete a tete we have between us. You even believe deep down that you, above everyone else who has ever tried, have the ability to permanently injure me and take me out of the sport.”

“I mean, I could go on about how I defended the HPW Undisputed Championship for six months on one leg after someone tried to take me out. I could tell you that I’ve kept on fighting through not one but two broken noses over the past year, still winning and defending championships around the world.”

“But, for the moment, let’s just allow you that illusion of control shall we? For just this one last, precious moment, let’s continue to grant you that feeling of power you believe you have over me.”

“But let me ask you a question Kendrick. Let me pose a query to you, one that will probably make you look at Britney and wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Have you ever stopped to think, for even the briefest of moments, that you’ve played a role...and perfectly I might add...in a production of my own direction? Have you considered that every step you’ve made over the three months I’ve been in California Wrestling have been just exactly the steps I’ve wanted you to take...how everything you’ve said and thought about me is precisely what I’ve wanted you to say and think?”

“No Kendrick, I don’t think you have. But let me assure you...you have done exactly as I’ve wanted you to do. Welcome to my parlor, as the old saying goes.”

The Pretty Little Murder Machine resumes her walk as the camera keeps up with her.

“Everything I’ve said I’d do since I got to CW has been done. True, I did intend to win that six-pack challenge the first night I was here, but let’s be perfectly honest, defeating five opponents is a tall charge for any of us. But even that was a calculated risk that turned out to be just the thing that drew you out into the open.”

“Because that loss actually did more for me, in terms of setting you up, than winning that match could ever have done. By no means did I take a dive in that match, but the silver lining in that small cloud revealed itself nearly immediately. Just as soon as the field for the Immortal Kingdom Crown was announced.”

“It was in that moment that I knew I could ensnare you in my web Kendrick. Because your fool mouth couldn’t help itself, and you kept doubting me at every turn.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve fought with you over social media. I’ve argued with you, but it’s all been for a purpose. All part of the long game of making sure you didn’t run away from me when I did what I promised you I would do, and win the tournament and earn my shot at the Pride Championship.”

“Every word you’ve spoken about me, every thought you’ve had...every time you’ve belittled me, run me down...all a part of the plan, Kendrick. Every last word.”

“You’ve played the marionette well. I have to give you credit for that. It’s been quite the delicious exercise, pulling your strings and watching you dance on my whims.”

“But at Starrpower, my dear...I’m afraid that playtime is over.”

Samantha can’t help but giggle, a sure sign she’s pleased with her handiwork over these last few months.

“See, Kendrick, it’s come time for me to cut the strings, to free you from the trap that’s been so carefully laid, the snare that you so very willingly stepped into.”

“I wanted you right where you are, and like a mule chasing that dangling carrot it can never reach, you kept on following it clear to the finish line.”

“And now we’re here aren’t we? The endgame. The final act.”

“I know you’ll watch this, and you’ll disagree with me. You’ll look at Britney and scoff, maybe even smirk. She’ll likely do the same. The two of you might even share an uneasy laugh. Good. I hope that’s what you do because that’s the reaction that I want.”

“But you know as well as I do that I’m deep, deep inside your head Kendrick. I’ve shaken you down to your very core, caused you to doubt yourself to the point where everything you have to say is filled with more and more bravado and ego each time. Each word spewed from your lips with an ever-increasing amount of testosterone, your heart racing, mind wandering, as the adrenaline courses in your veins and tells you that you can do this. You can beat me.”

“You can’t. You’re already a broken man, Kendrick. You’re playing right into absolutely every single strength I have, every single advantage I hold over you. The tender ankle is just a bonus, and unforeseen stroke of luck. It wouldn’t matter if you were two-hundred percent.”

“You’re shattered, Kendrick. Mentally, you’re so far off your game it’s pathetic. And the rush...ohh the exhilarating rush of satisfaction I have gotten from watching you fall into lockstep with me, it’s been so very much fun.”

“I’m almost sorry it has to end, Kendrick.”

Samantha stops once more, looking at the camera with beguiling intensity.

“But don’t worry...you’ll get a return match for the Pride Championship. I promise.”

“Cross my heart.”

“That, Kendrick, is a very detailed description of why I’m going to beat you at Starrpower.”

“But, because I’ve learned your brain is a more sanguine center of activity, let me put it into words your gray matter can easily assimilate.”

“I’m going to beat you because I’ve played you like a fiddle, pushing on some strings, plucking others, until you made exactly the notes I wanted you to make.”

“And at Starrpower, I’m going to end this little song and dance and become the new Pride Champion.”

“Because we all talk, Kendrick. All of us.”

“Your misfortune is having run into someone who can craft that talk into a plan, one that has been beautifully and painstakingly executed to your detriment.”

“See you soon Kendrick...do shine up that title belt for me dear?”

“I’d hate for the stench to still be on it when I put it around my waist.”

“Everybody talks. The CW Pride Championship, however, is about to tell you goodbye.”

Samantha smirks evilly, turning away from the camera and continuing her walk down the beach.