Post by Deleted on Apr 18, 2019 9:49:02 GMT -8
The ring inside The Warehouse is dark, save for one single light over the ring. Inside it, smack dab in the center, stands Samantha Tolson-Anderson, wearing a long pair of camouflage workout pants, a match crop top, and black military style boots. Her long brunette locks are pulled back in a ponytail, covered by a camo-printed military-issue cap.
“War is a funny thing, you know. No one comes away from it unscathed...as evidenced by the kinesiology tape still on this left shoulder.”
Samantha looks at her damaged wing for a moment.
“But despite the claims to the contrary, history always shows that there are indeed winners and losers in every one of them. Make no mistake, Brady Vega. On April Twentieth, we’re going to war, you and I. A war on a pure battlefield, one where the rules of engagement are clearly drawn for us.”
“A battlefield that, since I came to California Wrestling, I have owned.”
“There’s a great number of differences between us, Brady. Beyond the obvious, of course. I’m talking about the differences that will lead me to reclaiming the Pride Championship. The very same differences that have doomed you to surrendering the championship back to the rightful holder.”
“The biggest of them, however, is experience. I’ve been through the wars. I was through a war just this past Thursday night, one that has left me permanently scarred. Scars I wear as a badge of honor. I encouraged you to watch, Brady, but the lesson you could have learned likely wasn’t received.”
“You see, Brady, in that match in Florida, I walked into a structure of my own design, a structure meant to tear flesh, to injure, to cause pain...to end a war. And as I had done twice prior, I walked out of that structure hurt and bleeding, but also victorious. Just as I had told my opponent for nearly two and a half months I would.”
“There was a warning in that match for you. You could have learned what I’m willing to suffer in order to obtain victory. You could have seen exactly what kind of punishment you will have to inflict upon me in order to have even a small chance of winning. Did you watch? Did you take in the lessons you could have learned?”
“Judging by your words, you didn’t. And that, Brady, is the biggest difference between us.”
“I adapt, and I overcome. I prepare. I work on my craft, and do my due diligence to be as ready as I can for each and every opponent in each and every setting. You?”
“You’d rather sit on Twitter, stoned out of your gourd, trying to play a game of mental one-upsmanship that has failed you spectacularly. You’d rather tell the world how you’re going to come to the ring high and pretend that you can beat me.”
Samantha shifts on her feet, her gaze still on the camera.
“I saw your little henchmen, what with the faux Hydra get-up. I saw you shave your head, thinking it would have an effect. You can shave your head, hire all the thugs you wish, but when that bell rings at Coachella, it’s all for naught.”
“It’s just you and me. A match where you can’t run, or you lose the title. A match where you can’t get any outside help, or you lose the title. You have to stand and fight. And not on Twitter, not at a keyboard or using your phone, but with your hands, with your feet, and with your mind.”
“You like to think that you’re an intelligent person, but the fact of the matter is you’re not. You’re not real smart at all. You think I fight a good fight, but the only fight I fight is for myself and my wife. I don’t fight for the fans, but I appreciate their support. I don’t fight for approval, because other than my wife and our close friends, I could care less what the wrestling community thinks.”
“You believe I’m built on the backs of other people, yet I’ve gone around the world and fought those same people you claim to support me tooth and nail. You think I feel like I’m someone’s savior, yet I have no cross to bear for anyone other than myself and my wife. You think, it seems, my career has been constructed with smoke and mirrors.”
“April Twentieth, you’re going to understand firsthand how very, very wrong you are. I leave the magic tricks for the magicians. There’s no big secret to what I do. I get in the ring, and I hurt people. I beat them up. I drop them on their heads repeatedly. You think you’re some sort of surgeon, slicing me up bit by bit, but you’re about to understand that you’re about as skilled as a three-year-old with a plastic doctor’s play kit.”
“You see, Brady, when I get you in the ring, you’re going to suffer from blunt force trauma. Over and over, and over again, until I pin you in the center of the ring. I told you before that you’re on an island, but come Coachella, you have to get into the water and swim with the shark thirsty for your blood.”
“I’ll give you credit for one thing. One point you’ve made for so long now that you actually stumbled unwittingly upon the truth.”
“Things are changing in California Wrestling.”
Samantha shifts again, smirking at the camera.
“But they’re going to change in ways you won’t like much. You think you’re a catalyst, yet all you are is easily burned fuel for the fire. You think you’re an agent, yet all you are is a bad, expendable foot soldier.”
“See Brady, I knew this moment between us was going to happen. All the way back after the Immortal Kingdom Crown tournament, the night you and the rest of the A-List came to the ring with Kendrick to destroy the crown. I looked in each of your eyes that night. Kendrick’s were full of doubt. Britney’s were full of herself. Rex? His were empty, much like he is. But yours?”
“In your eyes, Brady Vega, was jealousy. Pure, unadulterated jealousy. You saw in me that night everything you will never, ever be. You already knew my story, knew of the places I’ve been you can never go, doing things of which you can only dream. And the final straw for you was me winning that tournament to face Kross.”
“In the matter of a few short weeks I had accomplished something you never could, despite being in CW from the outset. I knew that night your jealousy would rear its ugly head, and at Puroresu it did. You somehow found a way to use the chaos of a King of the Mountain match to win the Pride Championship.”
“But you never once thought of the ramifications.”
“Once you did, when you had to put the title on the line, you went full out with a game you couldn’t hope to win. Insulting myself. My wife. My womanhood. You tried to insult everything about me you could, thinking you could get me off my game.”
“All you’ve done is add fuel to the fire. What was once simply a return match for the title has become something you shouldn’t have made it, Brady.”
“You made it so not only is this now about reclaiming MY championship, but you’ve ensured for yourself a world of pain you should have seen coming.”
“You fancy yourself a ring general, yet the only thing you’ve proven to be is Napoleon without the military intelligence and only the complex.”
Samantha walks over and leans on the ropes as the spotlight follows her there.
“A leopard can't change his spots. You've made a point of showing the whole world via social media who you really are deep down. A scared, desperate paper champion who will try anything to hold onto that title.”
“Come Saturday night at Coachella, with all those revellers watching Brady, I'm going to show them who the real champion is, and who the fake always was.”
“Oh, one more thing...when wars happen...kings rarely survive them.”
“Saturday night, I will retake my throne from you Brady Vega.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. And even though it's now shaved, I'm going to enjoy taking yours off as you hear the two words that scare you more than even I do…”
Samantha exits the ring, the spotlight remaining as the ring bell chimes rapidly.
“And.”
“New.”
Samantha's soft-soled footsteps are the only sound as the spotlight goes out.
“War is a funny thing, you know. No one comes away from it unscathed...as evidenced by the kinesiology tape still on this left shoulder.”
Samantha looks at her damaged wing for a moment.
“But despite the claims to the contrary, history always shows that there are indeed winners and losers in every one of them. Make no mistake, Brady Vega. On April Twentieth, we’re going to war, you and I. A war on a pure battlefield, one where the rules of engagement are clearly drawn for us.”
“A battlefield that, since I came to California Wrestling, I have owned.”
“There’s a great number of differences between us, Brady. Beyond the obvious, of course. I’m talking about the differences that will lead me to reclaiming the Pride Championship. The very same differences that have doomed you to surrendering the championship back to the rightful holder.”
“The biggest of them, however, is experience. I’ve been through the wars. I was through a war just this past Thursday night, one that has left me permanently scarred. Scars I wear as a badge of honor. I encouraged you to watch, Brady, but the lesson you could have learned likely wasn’t received.”
“You see, Brady, in that match in Florida, I walked into a structure of my own design, a structure meant to tear flesh, to injure, to cause pain...to end a war. And as I had done twice prior, I walked out of that structure hurt and bleeding, but also victorious. Just as I had told my opponent for nearly two and a half months I would.”
“There was a warning in that match for you. You could have learned what I’m willing to suffer in order to obtain victory. You could have seen exactly what kind of punishment you will have to inflict upon me in order to have even a small chance of winning. Did you watch? Did you take in the lessons you could have learned?”
“Judging by your words, you didn’t. And that, Brady, is the biggest difference between us.”
“I adapt, and I overcome. I prepare. I work on my craft, and do my due diligence to be as ready as I can for each and every opponent in each and every setting. You?”
“You’d rather sit on Twitter, stoned out of your gourd, trying to play a game of mental one-upsmanship that has failed you spectacularly. You’d rather tell the world how you’re going to come to the ring high and pretend that you can beat me.”
Samantha shifts on her feet, her gaze still on the camera.
“I saw your little henchmen, what with the faux Hydra get-up. I saw you shave your head, thinking it would have an effect. You can shave your head, hire all the thugs you wish, but when that bell rings at Coachella, it’s all for naught.”
“It’s just you and me. A match where you can’t run, or you lose the title. A match where you can’t get any outside help, or you lose the title. You have to stand and fight. And not on Twitter, not at a keyboard or using your phone, but with your hands, with your feet, and with your mind.”
“You like to think that you’re an intelligent person, but the fact of the matter is you’re not. You’re not real smart at all. You think I fight a good fight, but the only fight I fight is for myself and my wife. I don’t fight for the fans, but I appreciate their support. I don’t fight for approval, because other than my wife and our close friends, I could care less what the wrestling community thinks.”
“You believe I’m built on the backs of other people, yet I’ve gone around the world and fought those same people you claim to support me tooth and nail. You think I feel like I’m someone’s savior, yet I have no cross to bear for anyone other than myself and my wife. You think, it seems, my career has been constructed with smoke and mirrors.”
“April Twentieth, you’re going to understand firsthand how very, very wrong you are. I leave the magic tricks for the magicians. There’s no big secret to what I do. I get in the ring, and I hurt people. I beat them up. I drop them on their heads repeatedly. You think you’re some sort of surgeon, slicing me up bit by bit, but you’re about to understand that you’re about as skilled as a three-year-old with a plastic doctor’s play kit.”
“You see, Brady, when I get you in the ring, you’re going to suffer from blunt force trauma. Over and over, and over again, until I pin you in the center of the ring. I told you before that you’re on an island, but come Coachella, you have to get into the water and swim with the shark thirsty for your blood.”
“I’ll give you credit for one thing. One point you’ve made for so long now that you actually stumbled unwittingly upon the truth.”
“Things are changing in California Wrestling.”
Samantha shifts again, smirking at the camera.
“But they’re going to change in ways you won’t like much. You think you’re a catalyst, yet all you are is easily burned fuel for the fire. You think you’re an agent, yet all you are is a bad, expendable foot soldier.”
“See Brady, I knew this moment between us was going to happen. All the way back after the Immortal Kingdom Crown tournament, the night you and the rest of the A-List came to the ring with Kendrick to destroy the crown. I looked in each of your eyes that night. Kendrick’s were full of doubt. Britney’s were full of herself. Rex? His were empty, much like he is. But yours?”
“In your eyes, Brady Vega, was jealousy. Pure, unadulterated jealousy. You saw in me that night everything you will never, ever be. You already knew my story, knew of the places I’ve been you can never go, doing things of which you can only dream. And the final straw for you was me winning that tournament to face Kross.”
“In the matter of a few short weeks I had accomplished something you never could, despite being in CW from the outset. I knew that night your jealousy would rear its ugly head, and at Puroresu it did. You somehow found a way to use the chaos of a King of the Mountain match to win the Pride Championship.”
“But you never once thought of the ramifications.”
“Once you did, when you had to put the title on the line, you went full out with a game you couldn’t hope to win. Insulting myself. My wife. My womanhood. You tried to insult everything about me you could, thinking you could get me off my game.”
“All you’ve done is add fuel to the fire. What was once simply a return match for the title has become something you shouldn’t have made it, Brady.”
“You made it so not only is this now about reclaiming MY championship, but you’ve ensured for yourself a world of pain you should have seen coming.”
“You fancy yourself a ring general, yet the only thing you’ve proven to be is Napoleon without the military intelligence and only the complex.”
Samantha walks over and leans on the ropes as the spotlight follows her there.
“A leopard can't change his spots. You've made a point of showing the whole world via social media who you really are deep down. A scared, desperate paper champion who will try anything to hold onto that title.”
“Come Saturday night at Coachella, with all those revellers watching Brady, I'm going to show them who the real champion is, and who the fake always was.”
“Oh, one more thing...when wars happen...kings rarely survive them.”
“Saturday night, I will retake my throne from you Brady Vega.”
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown. And even though it's now shaved, I'm going to enjoy taking yours off as you hear the two words that scare you more than even I do…”
Samantha exits the ring, the spotlight remaining as the ring bell chimes rapidly.
“And.”
“New.”
Samantha's soft-soled footsteps are the only sound as the spotlight goes out.
