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Post by The BombTrax on May 13, 2016 18:32:40 GMT
Opening Bout SPECIAL HEAT STROKE PREVIEW Fatal Four Way Elimination Match Airborne versus Alexandra Kelly versus Roy Baker versus Kelsey Spencer
One (1) Role Play Max
Final Role Play Deadline: Wednesday May 25th, 2016 @ 10:59 PM CST
Segment Deadline: Tuesday, May 24th, 2016 @ 11:59 PM CST |
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Post by Roy Baker on May 17, 2016 21:19:58 GMT
By the staff exit is a small group of people having a smoke. Far away from them, leaning on a wall is Roy Baker. He too is having a smoke. The camera crew is headed his way as Baker's expression changes from pleased to... annoyed.
Baker: "I thought you guys said I had more time."
He glares over to the man behind the camera, seeing as he doesn't stare straight into the camera itself.
Baker: "Fine, whatever."
The cigarette is dropped and stomped out, as the tattooed man sighs.
Baker: "So let's address the elephant in the room right away shall we? I'm having my debut match against 3 other competitors who've each had their debuts already. Some of which were impressive... some... looking at you, Airborne, not so much. Some of you have been asking me, tweeting me; 'Did you get the short straw? Are you getting screwed over by management? Why would they pit you against such difficult opponents?' and all of those. Y'know, the usual questions when things dont seem to be going your way."
A scoff from the man as he looks to the side, then back to the camera.
Baker: "Look, I get it. Some of you are worried that I look like the underdog. But what I want you to realize is, I'm not. I'm as good of a competitor as any of those 3 are if not better than them combined. Could I get hit by one of Airborne's arial assaults? Sure. Very possible. Hell, Alexandra could lock me into her submission hold. Some of the competitors going into this bout are expecting the easy W. Not me. They could hit me with their best moves and keep them on repeat but I'm nothing like they've faced before. Unlike them I'm going into this match looking for a fight with each of them."
He runs his hand through his hair to keep it upward and crosses his arms over his chest, displaying his various tattoos.
Baker: "Going into this match not expecting a fight is nearly offensive. And I respect each competitor equally. From the women to the other guy. But it won't stop me from showing the world that I am willing and able, if not extremely capable of holding my own in that ring. On the independant wrestling scene, I had a total of 57 matches. 6 no contests and 8 losses. That leaves me with 43 victories. Sure, this might be my debut on camera and in Pure Amusement. But the will of all those competitors on the indys cannot be underestimated either. Each and every one of them wanted to battle me just as much as the next to put an end to my reign and earn themselves the title of the who dethroned the Prince."
That statement has Roy Baker laughing, and kicking rocks.
Baker: "And none of them could. 43 victories. 23 in a row. I've been unstoppable. And I won't be stopped here. Like I said, this might be PAW but those indy guys were just as good as determined. For tonight... I'm hoping at least one of those 4 is more... much more determined."
He pauses. Perhaps to think, or perhaps to let what he just said sink in.
Baker: "But let's be reasonable. By all means, let's look at who we've got. Airborne... acrobat. Fans like him for his flying moves and all that. But he's another one of those country bumpkins with the 'aww shucks' attitude that makes me wanna puke. He's got no personality. Hell, he's just a coat of paint on an already fantastically built and painted wall. He's just there to ruin it all. And then you've got Spencer. Kelsey 'Blue Thunder' Spencer. On her, I had to do a little bit of research. Apparently she was ridiculed? Rejected? For being different? Are you fucking serious? At least you had a seat on the table, sweetheart! You want to consider your past 'bad'? You couldn't walk a mile in my shoes without complaining your feet hurt, your calf is cramping up and blisters will ruin your day. Sit the hell down!"
And before he can get to his last opponent, a smirk is on his face.
Baker: "And then the crowd favourite for this one... the one everyone expects to win. The internet darling, fan favourite, adorable little Alexandra Kelly. Miss Pixie from West Palm, FL. You use your speed and technicality to make up for your small size. We spoke earlier this week, and I guess it's a bit unfortunate that you're in this match as well. I feel like we could get along, make useful allies. But despite alliances, you're still the chihuahua with a very loud and annoying bark. I guess tonight we'll see if that front you put up is true or not. Best of luck to you."
Then he stares right into the camera, his green eyes very visible.
Baker: "Fasten your seatbelts, P.A.W. The Prince of Pandemonium has arrived!"
And then he walks off, into the PAW backstage area. Perhaps to prepare for his match, or to talk with others. While the latter is unlikely, we will see Baker in the match later on.
Fade.
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Post by Deleted on May 21, 2016 18:04:26 GMT
●out of character● There we go. This shall be fun. Good luck to the rest.
●next match● Airborne versus Alexandra Kelly versus Roy Baker versus Kelsey Spencer
●You only realise what it means to be young, when getting older. Not old. Just older. Gone are the times of being careless and free. Being an adult sucked. Simple as that. Sure it had some benefits but mostly it meant consequences. Every action would be answered with a reaction. Alexandra Marie Kelly was by no means a sensitive nature. She had seen too much to ever go back that road. Too much pain either breaks you, or creates something that was supposed to remain hidden. Monsters are real. Look at you. Remember the blood on your hands. Everyone in this world was living their own little horror story. Those laughing the loudest are often the ones crying alone. When a rebel gets born.- it is always for a reason. A safe sign that there was a new era starting, a kingdom crashing down. It was no different in Pure Amusement Wrestling. A parting glass to the times the Pixie did not know where to stand. A farewell to those that would overlook her. This was the rise of the Phoenix. In the hour of darkness burnt in front of the world. Gone. Forgotten. Defeated. But in order to achieve greatness, this was the only way possible. We are what we repeatedly do; excellence, then, it is not an act but habit. ~ Aristotle ●
●●●●●●
●Alexandra Marie Kelly RIP 4.1●
LOCATION: Purity, Louisiana
CAMERA STATUS: ON/OFF
That can’t be. Well, obviously it can.- but you get the idea. The papers had been brought to her by some DHL guy. It was an emotionless encounter. Sign and receive. Easy. The only weird thing about this.- she was not expecting anything. Till the moment her eyes fell on the header of the big, brown envelope. West Palm Beach; Florida. Never any good news coming from there. Alexandra was looking around the empty house.- for the first time happy Jack wasn’t around. Which was an unnatural feeling to say the very least. They were like magnets most of the time. But every now and then either of them would deal with business. Their way.
“That can’t be good… .”
She mumbled to herself while walking into the living room, letting herself fall onto the comfortable sofa. A thousand thoughts running through her head.- as if what could be inside of that. And while her hands were ready to open the papers, her mind certainly wasn’t. Letting time pass. Eventually Alexandra got over herself, ripping it open carefully. First thing she spotted was the name of her parents. And from there on everything seemed a little blurry. The words disowned and declared dead were repeated several times.
“What the fuck?!”
After reading another time she for the first time noticed the little picture resting on her lap. Probably fallen out while she opened the damn thing. Those dark, brown eyes became wide at the view. A gravestone.
Alexandra Marie Kelly
1988 - 2016
We all make failures!
A wide range of emotions opened inside of her, most of them less pleasant than the one before. Ever been to the point where you life would appear in front of your inner eye? Not all clear but moments that seemed to matter to you. From the first Christmas to your Prom. She was expecting something like that, but it never came. While there was a stinging pain that betrayal caused.- nothing else happened. No tears. No tantrum. Nothing. Alexandra was calm which rebelled against everything her nature was. The calm before the storm was no joke.- not to her. In some sort of mechanic movement she reached for her phone, dialing a number.- one she had not even saved. Waiting.
“Registry Office West Palm Beach; my name is Darlene how may I help you?”
You have to speak up. Now.
“I am looking for someone, the name is Alexandra Marie Kelly. Born 1st of August, 1988. It is urgent.”
“I am sorry lady but I can not just give out personal datas. Unless you are… .”
“I am her mother and we are desperately looking for her..”
Knowing fully well how to get the information she needed, Alexandra would give out everything necessary. From ID and passport number to home address. Birth name and whatever else that cunt wanted to hear. Typing. She heard the girl sigh. It was one of those ‘How am I gonna tell her that’ noises.
“Misses Kelly… I am terribly sorry… but she was buried… last week. It must have been an horrible accident, considering there was no body. Your husband bought a spot at the Woodlawn Cemetery. If you want I can give you the… .”
She hung up. There are plenty of parents out there not too fond of their kids. Some going as far as disowning them, alright. But not even she had expected that kind of action. Why? Hurt pride. Disappointment. Insanity. For not the walls still stood strong, the emotions boiled up behind it. I am Alexandra FUCKING K… no wait. I am not. Anymore. I am Jane FUCKING Doe. For now. Once more she held her phone up, breathing quietly.
“Kelly.”
“For real? You poor excuse of a human being. What a father… .”
She could see the face of her father in front of her eyes. His dark hair that started to slowly turn grey. His blue eyes. The only person in the whole family that had blue eyes, weird. Caught off guard probably.- color leaving his face. Maybe getting closer to his second heart attack. Not that any cell of her body did care.
“I am not… .”
“Fuck you. Fuck you and all the things you do not know. All the times you treated me like I was the failure. All those nights I had to stand in the corner, for something David had done. All the times he abused me and you didn’t care. Fuck you for all the moments in my life that are missing. There will come a day when you answer to someone for this. Not today, maybe not tomorrow. But the day will come. And then father, you may hope that your maker is more merciful than you have ever been towards me… .”
“I am not your father.”
“Yeah. I just got the papers of you disowning me and thanks for the very beautiful gravestone… .”
He was laughing. What the FUCK?! How was this a funny moment. The shell cracked a little, as she felt waves of anger shaking that small body. Her heartbeat raising to a dangerous pace.
“You never managed to listen, stubborn girl. I am not your father. I never was your father. While serving with the marines.- your mother had a little encounter with a stranger. Some worthless gypsy from a local fair. A nothing. Like you.”
A crack at the other end of the call. He had ended the call. Alexandra was not certain she was even awake at this moment. Having a loveless father was by no means good. Rejection only had made her stronger.
“I.. what… I… .”
The anger was gone in an instant leaving her with a bitter taste in her mouth. Not her father. Not her family. Not her life. With a serious look on her face she leaned back, allowing it to sink. Her eyes fell on the bracelet her parents had given for her 16th birthday. She would never take it off since then. Life is what you make it. But sometimes there would be something that was out of your control. Adapt or perish.
●We all sleep alone 4.2●
LOCATION: Purity, Louisiana
CAMERA STATUS: ON/OFF
All alone you will face the night. In times of biggest need, no one will come. They can’t. You do not allow them to carry your burden. That was a little something she always made her motto. There was a time for broken hearts. But that time was not now. Business was calling for her attention.- more than ever.
This was no place for a girl. Especially not coming here alone. She sat inside this bar countless hours. The bartender not quite sure he understood right when she ordered herself some soda. Alexandra was grieving for a drink badly. More than ever to say the very least. But she would not give in. Focusing on the upcoming match and the war that was upon them. But just because you did not drink.- did not mean you couldn’t admire the atmosphere. A BARFLY moment. Her tired eyes looked up when the guy placed another can in front of her.
“We are so used to define ourselves over our past.- that we often enough forget the present. Leave alone the future. Why? Because it is easier to look back to the known, than to think about the unknown. So scared. So weak. Do not get me wrong.- I have been exactly that way. Hanging on to the things I thought I knew. Everything I have achieved. And guess what? It means nothing if I fail now. I never was afraid to drown in my shallow heart. Used to move in the darkness, using the hardest path possible. But last week… you opened my eyes. The audience of PAW did. You rejected me for doing my job, going as far as pity my opponent. Why? Because he couldn’t get the job done? Or was it because his moronic tag team partner couldn’t carry his ass? You lost me there. I never thought I would say that.- but I don’t give a fuck about the audience. I am not your personal bundle of amusement. Whenever I got out there I have given you my all. My heart was in every match. What did you give me? Turning your back on me.- cheering for people that do not even work half as hard as me. So this applause is for you. You earnt it.”
Alexandra clapped her hands together numerous time, some of the drunken folks joining in. A small smirk appearing on her face.
“I don’t know if you understand the person I am.- probably not. Should I care? Maybe. Do I care? Nope. This week is nothing special, even though PAW wants you to believe so. A Fatal Four Way. Against three other people that I hardly know or ever heard of. And while there is no personal grief.- that does not change what is going to come. I can respect someone’s skills and still slit their throat. Ask Jack Nomad. Ask Hawk. The more I respect someone.- the harder I strike. It is a simple thing, I expect them to survive. Do I have faith in my opponents.- more or less. While Roy Baker is a decent asshole, a compliment sweets, I have only seen little of him. He is young. Ready to put his teeth into the business, making a name for himself. I admire that man but what good you think this is gonna do you? You look at me and out of the blue you think, oh she is cute. There is no need to deny that.- because it seems like everyone falls for that trap. What is it with people being so obsessed about size? I know guys and their genitals and females and their atomic tits. It is the way this world seems to turn. Let Doctor Pixie enlighten you about size my pets.”
Doing a playful cough before fixing her glasses. Whirling around on her stool as if she was going to speak to an audience.
“The most dangerous animal in this world is the Anopheles mosquito. I will make this easy for you.- since i know a lot of numb nuts sit out there. It is the size of…” She motioned around a centimeter with her thumb and index finger. “...and yet the deadliest little thing on this planet. Every 45 minutes someone in Africa is dying from the disease that insect carries. Malaria. So tell me again about size. Or muscles. What i lack there.- i make up for with experience and rage. And that is nothing any of you three can offer. No offense Roy. You are a good boy and after that match we can drink a milkshake.- but inside that ring, I will rip you apart. So you better not expect any special treatment.- because I am out of fucks to give. I know you are so eager to deliver, but you are not even sure what is front of you. I build worlds on careers like yours.- and when I got bored… i burnt them down. I seem to gather a certain reputation, so why not finally live up to it. Give people a reason to boo me out of the the place.”
The smirk grew into a smile. Her snow white teeth shining in the dimmed light. Every now and then people would walk in and out. Letting a little bit of sunlight in. Eek.
“You got my attention Roy, but you might have to share it. Kelsey Spencer. The red headed fireball. Well done so far. But then again last week was nothing more than a filler. Trixie and her record speak for itself. So do not get all too hyped about it. Considering that we never had an encounter.- I am not sure how much you are worth. But let me clear something for you. Social Media and my in ring business are two different pair of shoes. I wanna avoid any kind of confusion. I never was a person that would bring her fights to a platform, behind a screen. Do not mistake me for an attention whore like that.- we already have enough of those. I feel no urge to rip you apart playing tweety. But my beloved you have it coming. For all the right reasons. This is my place. If you like it or not. I am not playing around when you stand in front of me. Ready to drive your skull down on the mat, only to give myself a smile. Entertainment is everything, don’t you agree? If there is one thing I have proven to myself during my career, I don’t do easy. This world is rough.- so you gotta find your voice. Mine is coming with blood, sweat and broken bones. Your half ass attempts won't be enough this time. Give me your all or stay in your safe corner of the company.”
Alexandra was taking another sip from the soda, making a funny face. It had gotten warm, the gas almost gone. She tried not to shudder.
“There is nothing wrong with rooting for yourself Kelsey. But you gotta remain realistic, living with the facts. You got shit on me. Sure I agree that everyone is beatable.- but you meet me at a very unpleasant time. And no pervs out there, I am not talking about PMS. But there are good days and then there are bad days. In my case we talk about months maybe even years. I never had the intention to hurt anyone.- but then again fuck good intentions, right? When the chances arrives I am ready to break your spirit. I am not handing out threats here, it is a promise from me to you. Once upon a time I probably was just like you. Jumping around and hungry to get on top of the world. But this world is not made for people like that. It will eat you alive. Nothing will remain. The legacy of Kelsey Spencer forgotten before it even begun. You may take this however you feel.- advice or offense. Either way I am holding on to it. You are good. But good means shit in this industry. Farewell Kel Kel, I save you a good seat at my table.”
The thoughts in her head seemed to run wild, as she leaned against the bar. Her legs crossed, while she looked to the exit. A drunken couple was stumbling in. Oh, the big love. For a moment she would roll her eyes, in amusement.
“Somehow I have the feeling i am forgetting something, or someone. Fatal Four Way. Give me a second. Or two. Oh yeah, Airborne. What am I expected to say about him? I wish someone would script this for me, because I hate coming empty handed. Maybe he is the saviour I have been waiting for. The one that will outshine us all.- taking over PAW. Did that sound convincing? No? I am deeply wounded now.- but it is the best act I am able to pull. And it was hard enough to keep a straight face. Who am I to you PAW? The babysitter of the new generation? Yeah, I consider Airborne the next generation too. If you want me to take care of them.- fine. But then we gotta speak about a raise. When it comes to the four of us.- I think no one really cares about you sugar. No offense but you have been awfully quiet. Are you trying to pull a Trixie on us? This ain’t no popularity contest my love. Even then you would finish last. Those matches are tricky.- if you run into it headfirst without a plan. Nine out of ten times that does not end well. Then again this obviously won’t end well for either of us.”
Putting some money on the bar before rising from the bar stool. She would grab her bag, making sure everything was still inside. In an area like this you could not be careful enough. Pixie began to move towards the door, her sunglasses in hand. By the time she had already forgotten how many hours had passed. Without having the excuse of being drunk.- lame. Memo to self.- being sober was highly overrated.
“Do not get me wrong.- I wish no harm to either of you. But they say that accidents happen. Some are worse than the others. You might consider me a natural disaster, because I will come for each of you. Separate or together. Wouldn’t be the first time I gotta fight an army. The more the merrier and all that blah blah. I have been waiting long enough to be recognized by PAW. I have tried to provide whatever they needed from me, right? Being whatever was good for the company. But come Wicked #11 you can forget about that. I am not doing this for Jack, Cross or Munin. You wanted someone to hate, I will give you someone to despise. Yours truly is done pleasing if the reward is none. I come to fight. I come to destroy. And that is exactly it. Alexandra Kelly is no longer. Welcome the era of the Pixie.”
She took another look over her shoulder seeing the barkeeper looking after her. He was probably the only sober person apart from her. He was tipping his imaginary hat, giving her half a smile. In her natural manner she was tempted to smile back, but wouldn’t. Instead she nodded her head into his direction, kicking the door open.
The light would hurt her eyes for a moment, the sunglasses not making it much better. Alexandra would look down on her well tanned arms, the silver bracelet catching her attention another time. Standing still for a moment letting other people pass her by. Click. She had it opened holding it up as if it was a shiny, new present. As she began to walk again she carelessly would throw it into a trashcan. Not looking back. Not feeling any remorse.
The Pixie Effect
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Post by Kelsey Spencer on May 22, 2016 0:10:36 GMT
“Are you ready to ROOCCKK!?!?!”
Brock’s enthusiasm falls upon deaf ears. In fact, the only verbal response he receives is a doubtful “is this safe?” from my friend Todd.
Okay, let me slow down a little here, and introduce you to a few of my friends.
Todd Marshall; a self-proclaimed geek with very high hit points, and a knack for casting a vital saving throw...or something along those lines. He loves math and probability, videogames, comic books -- you get the idea.
Now Brock Sanders, on the other hand, is pretty much the polar opposite -- a tall, handsome, confident young man with a love for extreme sports.
So here we are -- at the foot of the entrance to Rock N Roller Coaster -- debating whether or not to go inside.
“It's totally safe!” Brock reassures us, arms spread wide like a motivational speaker. I peer over the massive ball of cotton candy I’m devouring at Todd, who isn't buying this for a second.
“I don't do well on roller coasters!” he loudly declares, startling Brock for a moment. “Last time I went on a roller coaster, I couldn’t stop throwing up for days! Do you really wanna see me go through that again?!”
“Guys, let's not fight over this!” I decide to intervene, risking getting caught in the crossfire of the oncoming argument. “If Todd doesn't wanna go, he doesn't have to.”
“Thanks, Kelsey.”
“Okay, well, what about you?” Brock questions. “You're the one who invited us here… Are we actually gonna go on any of the rides?”
“Yeah, totally!” I reply with enthusiasm, just as my phone begins to buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and spot a text message, asking me to go see the boss. “Sorry, guys,” I apologise, handing what remains of the ball of sugar to Todd. “My boss wants to see me about something.”
As I hastily make my way to the boss’s office, the same thoughts keep running through my head -- why does she need to see me so urgently? Have I done something wrong? I’ve had conversations with her via text and social media, but never actually met Lady Munin. Gosh, I hope she’s nice…
I come across a door with “LADY MUNIN’S OFFICE” written across it in...crayon? I courteously knock on the door to her office before I enter, and hear a voice call back: “Come on in!” Huh, she has a deeper voice than I pictured… As I step into the tiny office, I come across a flimsy and one of the most ravaged office chairs I’ve ever seen facing the opposite wall; certainly not what I was expecting to see. Anxiety becomes perplexity when I hear a masculine voice come from the other side of the chair -- “Good evening, Mr. Bond…”
As the chair spins, the source of the voice is finally revealed -- PAW’s resident goofball, Austin Tejas, petting a persian cat. Naturally, I have to know why he was in Lady Munin’s office.
“What’re you doing here?”
“That’s no way to greet your number one fan!” he responds, letting the cat go before putting his feet up on the desk.
“What is this? I got a message to see Lady Mun--”
“Ha! Tricked ya!” he exclaims, with an open-palm slap of the desk that made me jump 10 feet. “I sent that message, coz there’s something I needed to talk to you about.”
I’m familiar with Austin Tejas; in fact, he’s been a fan of mine for years. I know he’s got a reputation for being an irritating individual to some -- he can be overzealous at times -- but I find his unorthodox approach to the psychology of professional wrestling intriguing. He’s a natural at thinking of things others normally wouldn’t.
That doesn’t mean he never gets under my skin, but I’ll at least hear him out.
“You’ve had a couple of matches here, haven’t you?” he quizzes, standing up and trying to navigate the table to stand in front of it. I nod my head to confirm, and watch as Austin struggles to step over a bucket and a mop blocking his path.
“This isn’t Lady Munin’s office, is it?” I ask, watching the mop fall and land on the concrete below with a loud crack.
“It’s a maintenance closet,” he reveals, catching his feet before he almost trips. “I was feeling a little homesick. And, they wouldn’t let me in her actual office…”
“Austin…” I groan, rubbing my eyes with my thumb and index finger. “I don’t have time to play games with you. My friends are here, I wanna have a fun day out with them.”
“Are you forgetting about your match? The Fatal 4-Way Elimination Match?!”
“I’m well-prepared for it,” I assure him, placing my hands firmly in the pockets of my ripped jeans; it’s all I can do to prevent myself from lashing out at him.
“Doesn’t that make you mad?”
“No, not really. I wanna be the best, and what better way to prove that than to beat three opponents at once?”
“You still think of it as friendly competition, don’t you?” he asks with a raised eyebrow, testing the sturdiness of his makeshift desk by leaning back on it.
“Of course I do,” I respond with a slight chuckle. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“...Maybe you should see what your opponents are saying about you,” he suggests after a long pause, handing me a tablet with Roy Baker’s message loaded up and ready to play. “It might change your judgment…”
He pats my shoulder as he exits. I remain behind, watching and studying what my opponents have to say.
----------------
Kelsey’s vlog
May 21, 2016
My phone’s inside camera comes on, and I flash a modest smile as I walk the grounds of the park. The bustling public can be seen behind me, as groups of friends and individuals alike are enjoying a day of fun.
“I’m sure a lot of you PAW fans know exactly where I am,” I address the people through the virtual lens. “But for those who aren’t aware, I’m currently in Purity, Louisiana; I’ve been spending a lot of time here over the past month, getting to know the grounds and the people… It’s been a blast.
If you’ve been following my blog, too, you’ll know that I recently started working for Pure Amusement Wrestling; I’ve had two matches so far, and I’ve been lucky enough to win both of them. And as we head into Wicked #11, I’ve got my work cut out for me again -- a Fatal 4-Way Elimination Match.
The thing I love about this stipulation is there can’t be any excuses when I win; it’s an elimination match, meaning no-one can claim it as a fluke when I have my hand raised -- unlike my debut here. I’ve heard so many excuses being made for my opponents since I started here -- “Well, you didn’t actually pin Jack Nomad…”; “Oh, Trixie wasn’t at her best in that match…”; And why is that? Does everyone just refuse to accept that someone my size can be successful in this industry?”
I take a moment to smile and say good morning to a few passing fans as I make my way to a quiet section of the park to speak about something serious.
“I saw what two of my opponents had to say about me, and to be honest with you, I’m disappointed. It seems no matter how hard I push myself -- how emphatically I defeat my opponents -- I’ll never be respected or taken seriously by my peers here in PAW; and that seems to include the ones who are yet to step foot in a PAW ring.
Roy Baker had some choice words for me. Rather than talk about anything to do with my in-ring abilities or accomplishments, he chose to try and turn this into a competition of angst. Yeah, Roy, maybe you’ve been through a lot of terrible moments in your life, but there are stories from my past that I’ve locked away in a vault -- stories that will never see the light of day -- that will haunt your dreams every night, as they do mine. I refrain from making such assumptions about my opponents because I know I don’t know their stories, nor do I try and piece them together from internet articles. Do you even know my middle name, Mr. Baker?”
I shake my head, subconsciously answering the question for him.
“I’m gonna give you the benefit of the doubt, though; I’m sure you’re not here by accident. You’re probably a well-established competitor that I simply haven’t crossed paths with until now. See, when I first came to PAW, everyone was quick to count me out; but look where I am now. The fact is, no-one here really knows what Prince Roy Baker is capable of for sure… And I’m not gonna make the mistake of underestimating him.
I’m not sure what happened to Airborne. I tried to get to know him here at the Park, but he was always tough to find… His style was intriguing to me, I thought maybe I could learn a thing or two from him. Wherever you’re at, Airborne, hope you’re doing well.”
I can feel my expression change, and see it on the screen as my thoughts shift to the third and final individual in the match.
“Alexandra Kelly. Roy Baker actually dubbed her ‘the one everyone expects to win’. I thought I had a pretty good idea of the kind of person you are after our chat on Twitter -- but, when I was shown what you had to say about me, that perception went right out the window. It was almost like I was speaking to an entirely different person than the woman I saw on that tape.
That’s when it hit me -- that was most likely the point.
I was hurt, a little confused, and kinda disgusted by what you said. I mean, you should know where I’m coming from when I say people judge me by my size… That’s not a shot at you, it’s just fact; you and I aren’t exactly stereotypical wrestlers, are we? People take a glance at wrestlers like us, and often already have their minds made up that we’ll never amount to anything.
Now, clearly, you’ve evolved beyond that point. You’ve got a reputation that precedes you, having built up a legacy that easily identifiable by practically anyone in this business. Despite the fact that we’ve been in this industry for roughly the same period of time, I’ve been tucked away in the Australian indys for around 85% of my career; I don’t need to tell you that there isn’t a whole lot of exposure in that.”
I pause for a moment, clearing my throat before returning to addressing both Baker and Kelly.
“I don’t agree with your approach to this business. I don’t believe in breaking my opponents down, I believe in building everyone up; because if everyone’s better, the promotion is better. When I win a match, I want my defeated opponent -- or, in matches such as this one, opponents -- to learn from the experience. I want them to take the loss in their stride, understand what they did wrong, and gradually work on turning their weaknesses into strengths so that next time, we can have an even greater match!”
A smile appears on my face; I’m getting excited just thinking of the amazing exchanges that are a very real possibility.
“When Wicked #11 emanates from Thibodaux, I’m not looking to cut any of my opponents down; I’m not interested in discovering who’s been through the most pain, I’m not trying to break their spirits… I don’t wanna come up with cool catchphrases or sound like I’m running a political campaign…
I’m heading to Thibodaux to wrestle; I wanna prove without a shadow of a doubt that Kelsey Spencer is for real; to silence my detractors...including my peers. I know all three of you are in this for various reasons -- and we’re all chasing that Titans of the Midway Title shot. But underestimating and overlooking me is one of the biggest mistakes you could possibly make.
...Hopefully, it’s one you’ll learn from.”
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