Voyage of the Damned: Epilogue

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Morning Again

On Camera

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Since October of 2013 the FWA had been willing to settle for a lackluster, second rate excuse of a world heavyweight champion, a man who fluked his way into the world heavyweight title after eliminating Dante.  People cried foul.  The fans demanded a legitimate champion, a champion that could proudly stand as the FWA standard bearer.

And that was where I came in.  I made my return to the FWA ring, not intending to be a conquering hero but simply to give the fans of FWA what they wanted; a legitimate, worthy champion, because I knew I was the only person who could bring that individual out of then champion Isis Derrida.

Unfortunately it was proven that there are things that even The British Bombshell can’t do.  I was unable to bring that worthy champion out of Isis.   He threw the fans out the window, the company out the window, the chance to be a legend in FWA out the window, all just to retain the title on one night.  All just so he could say he beat me in a sixty minute Iron Man Match.  And he did it in the sickest of ways, the most cowardly of ways; by attacking my father.

But Jackson Adams was right there with me every step of the way afterwards.  He reminded me that I was not alone in this battle, that I did have friends.  Those friends, those allies known as Apocalypse, would reunite and serve as my backup to make sure Isis could never again run away from a fight.  Apocalypse made certain that Isis would have to stare me down and face me like a man.

After all, it had to end that way, didn’t it?  It had to end up with just him and me, face to face, one on one, because the only way FWA was going to get a legitimate champion, a worthy champion, was if someone took that title away from him.  And with Nick Harris doing everything in his power to keep Dante away from a title match, that left me as the only person to get the job done.

And so, now that Darkness Within has come and gone, I can happily announce that it is morning again in FWA because the dark days of Isis Derrida making a mockery of the world heavyweight championship is over.  The days of Isis Derrida running and hiding behind his goons, thugs, and even Nick Harris are over.

You knew it would end like this, didn’t you Isis?  At End of Worlds you saw your professional career flash before your eyes as, with time running out, I kept getting win after win after win over you in that Iron Man Match.  You knew that if I could do that, in that short amount of time, imagine what I could do if given a fair shot…

…that’s why you attacked my father.  You weren’t sure of yourself.  The only thing you were sure of that night was that I was exactly what I said I was.  Don’t deny it, I could see it in your eyes, mate.  At that moment you believed that I truly was The Best in the World.

All that remained was showing it to you once and for all at Darkness Within.  And I did that.  I beat you, I humiliated you, I humbled you in front of my hometown crowd.  You stepped into my world, in my country, and I destroyed you.  I brought you back down to earth and then I sent your ass packing back to that fictional city of yours.

As for me?  I am going to do my best to be the exact opposite of what you were, Isis.  I am going to be a champion that the fans can be proud of.  I am going to be the kind of champion that this company can proudly put out there as its representative.  I am going to be a fighting champion, someone who does not run from any challenges from anyone at all whatsoever.

That anyone includes Dante.

The fans want to see it.  The wrestling world wants to see it.  Dante wants it and I’m willing to give it to him because he’s earned it.  After the hell he’s gone through against Priest in hell in a cell, handicap matches galore, and then against Nick Harris in a war at Darkness Within, Dante has more than earned his world heavyweight title shot.

It’s the two best competitors in the company.  The Dark Assassin against The Best in the World.  It makes perfect sense to book the match.  So book it, Nick.   Give the world what they want.

Don’t worry, Priest…I’m not overlooking you.  How could I possibly overlook the new Intercontinental Champion?  How could I possibly overlook the man with whom I have had many classic battles with in both MCW and FWA in the past?

This, too, will be classic.  I can guarantee everyone that.  I can also guarantee that Priest will get the absolute best out of The Best in the World come Mayhem when we clash in the champion against champion match.

Prepare for a classic, ladies and gentlemen.

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Voyage of the Damned

Epilogue

Off Camera

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It is difficult to celebrate when so much has gone wrong in your life.  Over the past few months I had control of wrestling operations in my company GCW stolen from me by Samantha Hodgson, my cousins declared war on me, and my father had been assaulted at ringside by a coward who used him as a human shield in order to retain his world heavyweight championship.  Murphy’s Law, in its simplest form, states that if something can go wrong it will go wrong and it seemed, to me at least, as if everything that could wrong had been going wrong for me all at the same damn time.

Surprisingly, things started taking an opposite turn.  The opposite of Murphy’s Law, if one exists, seemed to happen as things began to slowly reverse themselves.  I now have a chance to regain control of wrestling operations from Hodgson.  My cousins and I have reconciled.  And I gained revenge for my father and, at the same, became a thirteen time World Heavyweight Champion.

Oh but the best part was to get my redemption in front of my hometown crowd, my home country of Great Britain.  I was born and raised in London.  The wrestling fans in London, and even the non-wrestling fans, admired and adored my father for his wrestling skill and ability and followed him throughout his career.  Then when he retired and I took over the mantle they followed me.  The Braddock family in England was known was Britain’s Best but I had taken it to the next level.  Thanks to me, we were The Best in the World.

As champion I always strive to give back to the fans and wrestling community that made it possible for me to do what I do.  People like Isis Derrida, though, are a dime a dozen.  They are villains, self-absorbed villains who think the world revolves around them.  They think they are entitled to handouts from the wrestling industry.  They refuse to try and give back to the business or to the fans that helped make him who he is.

It shouldn’t have come as any surprise that he would stoop to the low that he stooped to in order to retain the championship at End of Worlds.  I made the mistake of thinking he was different.  But it was a mistake I would not make again.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me.  I would not be fooled again.  At Darkness Within I became FWA World Heavyweight Champion.

So yes, now that the nightmare is over, now that we have passed through our voyage of darkness, we can once again celebrate knowing that the worst is beyond us, that things are now getting better for the Braddock family.

“Bloody fancy restaurants!”

My father, the esteemed Glenn Braddock, never met a fancy restaurant that he liked.  He hates the glitz and glamour that is associated with celebrity status.  He always taught his students, me included, to avoid the camera, avoid the celebrity status, and just do your job; which is to win.  But what Glenn doesn’t realize is that being the face of the company is part of your job when you are world heavyweight champion, and that entails some celebrity and, unfortunately, some fancy dinners.

This dinner has nothing to do with celebrity status or championship responsibility, though.  This was actually my request.  And it came much to the shock of daddy and my boyfriend Kurt Logan.  They know me all too well and they know that I am a tomboy at heart.  But tonight I felt something different.  Tonight, after the hell I’ve been through, after the hardships I’ve fought through, I feel as if tonight, just for tonight, I am entitled to a little pampering.

A supportive corset bodice of the purple dress as well as its fitted waist make this lovely piece a beautifully feminine design.  The dress is strapless and shows off all of my shoulders and some of my chest, but little cleavage.  It hugs my every curves and the dress is long enough that it drags the floor, making for an elegant look.

My boyfriend is dressed equally as elegant but in a more handsome manner, wearing a navy blue blazer and white button up silk shirt, matching navy blue pants and black shoes.  My father, on the other hand, refused to dress nice.  In protest to us going out to a nice fancy restaurant he wore blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt with the words “Fuck You, Wanker” on the front.

“Oh hush, daddy!” I say, stifling my laughter. “It wasn’t that bad!”

Truthfully, it was quite bad.  What started out as a very nice dinner turned disastrous as the patriarch of my family started being intentionally rude just to show how much he disliked this whole situation.  Kurt thought it was funny as hell.  I was embarrassed for a moment but even I had to admit, daddy made it quite entertaining for us.

“That’s right, Glenn,” Kurt chimes in “and besides, it’s all over.”

The night has come to a close and we have just stepped out of the restaurant.  Waiting for us, just where we left it, is the long black limousine that brought us here in the first place.  That was another problem.  Glenn hated riding in the limousine.  He would’ve preferred driving himself or taking a taxi.  And he made a complete ass of himself on the way over, threatening bodily harm on the driver.

“Yeah, well, as good as it is knowing that it’s over, there is no way in hell I’m getting back in that stupid bloody thing!”

Really?” I frown, staring at him curiously.  “What are you going to do about transportation then?”

“I’ll call a taxi!”

“Now don’t be that way, daddy!” I begin, trying to discourage him. “You know, at least we’re paying this guy.  Who knows what bloke you might find by calling a taxi?”

“True but at least if someone gave me trouble I’d get some action.”

“Daddy!”

He chuckles.  Finally, a positive response out of him. “I’m kidding.  But I am calling a taxi for myself.”

He embraces me in a hug. “This is your night.  Enjoy it with the American.”

“The name’s Kurt…” Kurt says with a wink.

“Yeah, him…”

I still am not comfortable with the idea of my father out alone.  But then again, he is tough as nuclear nails, a true badass.  No one would are try him.  I would dare say he is safe.  And him gone would leave me and Kurt by ourselves.  That’s not to mention the fact that we wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of the limousine driver anymore.

“Ok daddy, you win.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Quit joking.” I lean in and kiss him on his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Gloria.”

With that I watch as my father starts hailing a taxi.  I am lost in thought but Kurt clearing his throat snaps me back to reality.  I turn and see him holding the back door of the limousine open for me.  God he is such a gentleman…

“After you, Glory…”

I smile warmly as I walk over to the limousine.  Carefully I step into the backseat and scoot over to allow room for Kurt.  Kurt steps in next and shuts the door.  The driver then starts the car and we take off, a moment I wish could last forever.  And while I cannot make it last forever I can make it last longer.

“Driver…”

“Yes?”

“Take a longer route back to my place.”

“As you wish, Ms. Braddock.”

I turn and stare into my boyfriend’s loving eyes.  Apparently he liked the idea as well, for he is grinning from ear to ear.  I lean over and kiss him on his lips passionately.  We maintain the kiss for several seconds before breaking.  Kurt has a hard time finding words after that kiss.  I usually have that effect on him.

“Not…not that I’m complaining but…but what was that for?”

“Because I love you.”

I turn away from him and sigh. “I lost control of wrestling operations in GCW and you were there for me…my cousins turned on me and you were there for me…my father was assaulted by Isis Derrida and you were there for me…as all hell broke loose, when most would have just abandoned the fight, you stayed with me.  And you are ready to stand by me as I now have a chance to regain control of wrestling operations in GCW, you listened to me and help convince me to talk to my cousins and reconcile with them, and you were there, cheering me on as I defeated Isis Derrida for the World Heavyweight title at Darkness Within.”

“That’s what a boyfriend is for, Glory.”

I nod my head, fighting back the tears. “But I realize I am so selfish.”

“Selfish?  Not at all!”

“Yes, yes I am.  It’s why Randall wanted a divorce.  I could not give him the one thing he wanted…”

“What he wanted was you to be a stay at home housewife.  That’s not who you are.  You are a wrestler at your core, Glory, and no one can make you be anything else.”

“And that’s also why I can’t give you what you want…” more tears well up inside “…a child.  I’m the new FWA World Heavyweight Champion.  I can’t have children and wrestle.  I have to do one or the other and right now I’m world champion.  I have duties and obligations.”

I chuckle slightly despite the situation. “I’m facing Priest for goodness sake on Mayhem!  Priest has been among my toughest opponents.  I’ve beaten him every single time we have fought but that doesn’t change the fact that he is tough as hell.  Glory Braddock ‘The Best in the World’ can defeat him.  Glory Braddock ‘mother’ cannot.”

“Listen to me Glory,” he takes my hands tightly and squeezes them “you already are a wonderful mother to a wonderful child, Melinda Alexis Braddock.  She is eleven years old and you raised her with no help from her asshole father.  Now THAT’s tough.  You can be a mother.  You can beat Priest too, because like you said, you are The Best in the World.”

He kisses me on my lips. “Yes, I do want some things out of you.  Primarily I want you to be happy and if you are happy being a wrestler then by all means, be a wrestler.  I will never try to make you be someone you are not.”

“Thank you, Kurt.  I love you.”

“But wait, there is one other thing I want…”

“Yes?” I ask apprehensively.

“I just want to know one thing…” he reaches into the pocket of his blazer and produces a small box which he opens up and I notice it’s an engagement ring “…Gloria Marie Braddock, will you marry me?”

The nightmarish voyage of the damned that I have been on has ended, and now a new journey, perhaps a wonderful journey, is about to begin.  There is only one way to find out for certain.

“Yes!  Yes, yes I will marry you!”

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The Constant

On Camera

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We are inside of an empty arena.  It’s quiet, almost too quiet.  It’s also very dark, but we can vaguely make out the seats, seats set up as if for a wrestling event, for they are all surrounding a metal stage and ramp that leads down to a wrestling ring set up in the center of all of the seats.   Suddenly a spotlight flashes on, shining into the wrestling ring itself.  Sitting in a blue steel folding chair in the center of the ring is yours truly, “The British Bombshell” Glory Braddock.  I am decked out in a sleek traditional styling executive black pinstripe pantsuit.  A pair of black high heel pumps complete the look.  My FWA World Heavyweight Championship title belt is draped over my right shoulder and I am wearing a pair of sunglasses over my eyes.  My long auburn hair hangs down unrestrained to shoulder length.

“Good evening, Priest.  Do you recognize this place?  I mean, other than as a place that will host a wrestling event, do you recognize this place?  Well, this is the Memorial Arena in Los Angeles, California.  This is where you and I will be writing yet another chapter into the Glory Braddock versus Priest rivalry.  This very ring where all of the other chapters were written...ok, so maybe not this exact ring, but rings similar to it…is where we will continue a rivalry that dates back to the days of Motor City Wrestling.”

“You do remember MCW and the early days of the original FWA, don’t you Priest?  Because I do.  We had quite a few one on one matches on free tv, but the ones I remember best are our two pay per view encounters.  They were not one on one but they were not any less spectacular.  The hell on earth match pitting you, Jackson Adams, Rain, and me for the world title and then the triple threat ladder match pitting you against me and Jacob Laymon.”

“There is one thing that all of those one on one matches and those pay per view encounters have in common, my friend, and it isn’t the fact that you and I were in all of them.  Do you know what one common factor is?”

“Me, and the fact that each and every time I walked out of the ring with my arm raised high in victory, still the World Heavyweight Champion.” I pat my world heavyweight title belt proudly. “I am the one thing that always remains constant.  I am the one thing that never ever changes Priest.  When it comes to Glory Braddock versus Priest the one that has always remained the same throughout each match we have had is that I have never ever lost.”

I nod my head.  “In this industry I always have been consistent.  When you step foot inside of this ring, MY ring, you know you are going to be facing The Best in the World.  And when you get locked into the Shekhinah Glory you know you are going to either tap out or pass out.”

“The rings will change, the arenas will change, the referees and owners and ring announcers and commentators will all change, the cities and countries we compete in will all change, but I remain the same.  I will always be The Best in the World until I decide to step down.”

I point a finger at the camera. “And you are consistent as well, Priest.  You do not change.  You are a legend.  You are a great fighter, a great wrestler, and you consistently push me to my limits.  You consistently give me some of the best matches I have.  You consistently come close grabbing that brass ring and earning a victory over me…”

“…close…” I mutter the word again, quieter this time as I shake my head “…close means nothing in this industry and you and I both know that.  You’ve come close to defeating me, Priest.  You’ve come close to defeating me on many occasions but you have never ever once been able to pull it off.”

“No disrespect meant, but what makes you think that this time will be any different?” I shrug my shoulders. “Is it because you have momentum?  Great, you won the Intercontinental Championship!”

I clap my hands, applauding his accomplishment. “That truly is a great accomplishment and I am happy for you, but guess what?”

Again I pat my own championship belt. “I won a championship too.  Oh and, for the record, the last time I lost was at End of Worlds and that was via count out and the last time I lost via pin or submission was almost a full year ago.  I have been on a roll, I have had momentum going for a year now, Priest.  Do you really think you can stop it now?”

“Do not take this as an arrogant bitch talking down to you, because I do respect you.  We have had many legendary battles, Priest, and I know that this one will be another legendary battle.  You can’t get much bigger than the two top title holders in the company duking it out, now can you?  So don’t misconstrue what I am saying as disrespect…”

“…please, take it for what it is.  Take it as me motivating you.  That’s what you’ve been missing each and every time you’ve faced me, Priest.  As legendary as you are, you have always been willing to settle for second best against me.”

I nod my head. “It’s true, don’t deny it.  You have always been willing to walk away with your head held high knowing that at least you gave me a good fight.”

“Nate Lawson gave me a good fight but he still lost.

“Rain gave me a good fight but he still lost.”

“Scott Wilson gave me a good fight but…” I pause momentarily and then start chuckling “…bad example!  He didn’t give me a good fight!  I just choked his ass out!”

“Oh and Isis Derrida gave me a good fight at End of Worlds.  For sixty minutes we fought to a damn near stalemate and he realized he couldn’t beat me so he had to cheat.  Then at Darkness Within he again gave me a good fight but I still kicked his ass and took the FWA World Heavyweight Championship away from him.”

“You will give me a good fight on Mayhem, there is no doubt in my mind about that.  There is also no doubt in my mind that once again history will repeat itself and I will be the winner and once again you will leave with your head held high, content with the knowledge that you at least gave me a good fight.”

“As long as you are content with being second best then you will always be the SECOND Best in the World but the VERY Best in the World is right here, in this ring, your reigning FWA World Heavyweight Champion, and until you change that mindset of yours then that will never ever change.”

“It’s a constant.  It’s consistent.  Get used to it.”

Voyage of the Damned: Act 4

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The Future Is Now

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Isis Derrida currently has possession of the FWA World Heavyweight Championship and while he is the champion in name he is not the true champion in practice.  Isis Derrida is the type of champion who lives to uplift himself and his own brand.  He does not care about representing FWA, its interests, and the interests of the FWA fans.  And it isn’t just because he is a conceited son of a bitch, although that is the biggest reason.  One of the reasons he cannot be and never will be a true champion for FWA is the fact that he knows nothing of FWA.

What does FWA even stand for?  Does anyone remember?  I remember.  It stands for Future Wrestling Alliance and was originally formed in the ashes of Motor City Wrestling.  The original FWA took a hiatus when MCW returned to its former glory.

FWA was intended to be the future, not just for MCW but for professional wrestling itself and I was proud to be a part of that future.  I was proud to be a part of the machine that would help create a new future for this industry.  My hands, along with the hands of such legends as Jackson Adams, Brittany Lohan, and yes, even Angelica Jones, the second incarnation of Apocalypse, we helped build the foundation of what FWA is today.

The future was built upon the backs of warriors fighting for honor.  It was built upon such legendary battles as the Hell On Earth Match, Glory Braddock against Priest against Jacob Laymon in a ladder match, and upon the back of Glory Braddock versus Jacob Laymon.

Men like Priest have my respect for he gave me everything he had and he pushed me to my physical limits and at the end of the day we left it all in the center of the ring.  At the end of the day we were professional wrestlers fighting not just for ourselves but for this industry.  Hell, even Jacob Laymon has more respect for this industry than some people I know.  I could see it in his eyes when we stared each other down.  And it was confirmed on that fateful night when he became the man who finally did what no one could do in nine months…defeat me for the FWA World Heavyweight Championship.

If you want to get an idea of what this company is supposed to be all about, don’t ask Nick Harris.  And don’t go to your little fantasy dream land and ask those dimwits because they don’t exist.  Ask men like Priest and Jacob Laymon.  Ask Jackson Adams and Brittany Lohan.  Ask Angelica Jones.

Ask any of them what FWA is all about and all they will tell you stories of the wars they have been through, the blood they have shed inside that squared circle, all for the chance to hold that title belt that you carry to the ring with you each and every night.

They will also tell you about how sick and tired they are of watching you disgrace that championship. They will tell you that even though they had their differences with each other and with me, they still can agree that the FWA World Heavyweight Championship is a recognized world heavyweight title, not a joke, not some trinket, not some toy, not some prize you can parade around.  It is more than just a prize.  What it represents is something bigger than you.  It represents the very heart and soul of the Future Wrestling Alliance.

Two qualities you don’t have, Isis.

Your actions at End of Worlds disgraced that championship.  As a result it has become my duty and responsibility to make sure that you do not walk out of London with the FWA World Championship.  But I may just do you one better…

…I will just make sure you don’t walk out period.

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Voyage of the Damned

Act 4 ; Scene 1

Off Camera

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The Voyage of the Damned is a reference to two stories, one of popular British television series Doctor Who and the other to an actual true event that took place in the 1930s.  The true story is of the 1939 voyage of the MS St. Louis, which departed from Hamburg carrying 937 Jews from Germany to Havana, Cuba.  The passengers had seen and suffered from rising anti-Semitism in their native Germany and wanted to flee, to escape before things could get any worse in the Nazi controlled government.  It is an emotional story of the journey of the passengers who gradually become aware that their passage was planned, that it was a fake, a hoax.  They realize that their journey is merely an exercise in propaganda, and that it had never been intended that they disembark in Cuba.  Rather, they were to be set as an example before the world; as a Nazi official states in the film, when the whole world has refused to accept them as refugees, no country can blame Germany for the fate of the Jews.

In the one hundred percent work of fiction version from the Doctor Who series, the passengers are aboard a starship called, ironically enough, the Titanic.  Just as with the true story, there is mischief afoot.  In this case, this is not truly intended to be a cruise, as the passengers are led to believe.  This seemingly unsinkable ship has been set up for failure as the captain and its owner, a man named Max Capricorn, tries to crash the ship into earth in order to bankrupt the company that voted him out of power.  The Doctor manages to save Mr. Copper and leaves him on earth with a gift; a credit card that he preloaded with one million pounds.

Two different stories, two totally different endings, and yet one theme remained the same for both versions of the Voyage of the Damned; sabotage.  In one story Nazi Germany sabotaged the voyage in order to justify their future crimes against humanity, the holocaust.  In another story an insane industrialist sabotaged the journey for purposes of revenge and simply because he did not wish to go down alone.

I am not a Jewish refugee nor am I one thousand year old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey with two hearts.  Some call me The British Bombshell, others call me The Best in the World.  During my career I have won twelve world heavyweight championships and overcome every obstacle that has ever been placed before me.  During my career I have set foot in the ring with the best this industry has had to offer and I have beaten them all.  I have earned the right to brag, to gloat, and to stroke my own ego as much as I want, though I try not to.  I prefer to let my actions do the talking for me.

Eric Herrera and Nate Lawson were defeated by yours truly back to back on the same damn night to get to where I am today.  I tapped out Scott Wilson, the braggadocios idiot who thinks he is better than he really is.  And I went sixty minutes with the reigning FWA World Heavyweight Champion Isis Derrida in an Iron Man Match on a night that should’ve been my night, a night I should have been crowned new FWA World Champion had it not been for sabotage.

The fact that I did not anticipate Isis Derrida’s sabotage was my own fault.  I should have guessed that a cowardly champion like him would do anything, would stoop to any low, in order to retain his championship.  I just never guessed he would stoop so low as to attack my own father.

In The Doctor Who television series, The Doctor managed to give the Titanic a new life.  He managed to save the ship and keep it from wreaking havoc on poor unsuspecting earth below.  Much like The Doctor, I was given a second chance to face off against Isis Derrida and become FWA World Heavyweight Champion and that second chance comes at Darkness Within.  It is rare that anyone gets a second chance at the world heavyweight championship after losing in their first attempt at the gold, even if my loss was a controversial one at best.  I will not let this opportunity pass me by.

You don’t always get second chances in life, The Doctor got a second chance to save that ship but the Jewish refugees in Voyage of the Damned did not get a second chance.  If they ended up back in Germany, their story ended in heartache and death.

I do not know yet how the story involving me and Angelica will end.

Angelica and I are cousins.  My mother and her mother were sisters.  Mary Ford and Kelly Jones were inseparable and both were saintly women who passed their strong moral compass of right and wrong down to their daughters, namely me, Angelica, and Kayla.  But it was my father, Glenn Braddock, who got me interested in the art of amateur wrestling.  It was his legend, his status, his influence, but most importantly his knowledge and ability, that allowed me to become a great amateur wrestler myself following after his footsteps.

I am my father’s daughter, though, and Glenn Braddock had always strived to be the best in the world.  It was his dream to be an Olympian and win gold medals for the United Kingdom but that dream was cut short due to an injury in a match.  I was determined to not just achieve his dream but to do him one better.  I wanted to be a world champion.

My cousins, Angelica and Kayla, who were professional wrestlers introduced me to the professional wrestling industry.  They helped train and transition me from amateur wrestling to professional wrestling and they got me my first job; a contract with the Global Division of Wrestling where I would win four world heavyweight championships and become a hall of famer.  Angelica would also help me get on with Motor City Wrestling where I would win three world heavyweight championships and also become a hall of famer.  Angelica pointed me in the direction of the Millennium Wrestling Alliance where I would win two world heavyweight championships.

After all of the things she did for me, you would think we would be closer than sisters but that is not the case.  We have had differences in opinion in what is right and wrong and how to combat it.  But the greatest thing that drove the biggest wedge between us is jealousy.

For me, at least, it is jealousy.  Angelica Jones, in my opinion, seems to be at least a little jealous of my success.  I have been in this industry a shorter period of time than she has and yet I have achieved greater accolades than her, won more world titles than her, and I am on the verge, at Darkness Within, of possibly winning my thirteenth world championship if I can defeat Isis Derrida.  Knowing this, Angelica Jones demands one thing from me and one thing only…

…a thank you.

As silly as it may sound, that is what Angelica wants out of me.  She wants me to thank her and her sister for making me who I am today.  It seems like such a silly and yet simple request that, if that’s all it took to end the rivalry, that I would just do it, right?  I would just give them what they want, right?

But no, I have not thanked her or her sister Kayla.  Part of it is pride.  They only helped me become a part of this industry but they did not win the championships for me.  They did not achieve the accolades that earned me a spot in the GDW and MCW Halls of Fame.  I earned those achievements on my own.  And yet, I still have to think, would I have still eventually found my way to professional wrestling and become a twelve time world champion and two time hall of famer had it not been for their influence or would my path had been different?

My stubborn pride has kept me from being the bigger person and just trying to end it.  I refuse to give Angelica what she wants because I believe she doesn’t deserve it.  And yet if she doesn’t get what she wants she threatens to ruin me.  She has threatened that she will bring down my career if she does not get what she wants.

Unfortunately she has the means to do just that.  Already, with the help of her agent Samantha Hodgson, she took control of wrestling operations away from me in my own company GCW.  I am still owner, but relegated to front office duties now.  And that, Angelica said, is just a sampling.  She also wants to fight me one more time, in the ring.  And like her or not, Angelica is very capable inside the ring.

The Voyage of the Damned ends differently depending on who you are.  Are you one of the Jews seeking refuge and asylum from the persecution in Europe or are you The Doctor aboard the Titanic trying to save it from disaster?  I do not know what part I play in this scenario so I do not yet know my future.  What I do know is that before I can confront Angelica again I must first confront the family that I have always kept at a distance for one reason or another.

My black high heeled boots click across the white marble floor of this mausoleum.  Florescent lights light up my way as I head down the wall, also of white marble lined with markers that read off the names of those entombed here.  Some of these markers have flowers with them, others are empty and forgotten, completely alone except for the company they have from their fellow dead and the statues of the various saints of the church scattered here and there throughout this sacred place.

At the end of the hall I spot the place I am looking for.  I have been here before so I knew how to get here without much difficulty.  It is one lone tomb marker below a stain glass window depicting the assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary into heaven.  I cross myself as I inch closer to the window and the tomb marker.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Slightly startled, I spin around.  A sigh of relief leaves my lips as I see it is only the man I was waiting on; Bart Jones, the father of Angelica and Kayla Jones, dressed in denim jeans, black boots, a black t-shirt and a heavy denim coat.  His hair is black with gray streaks in it, signifying that he has been coloring it to keep the gray out.  The grizzled features tell the story of a man who has been through a lot in his life and has survived a lot.

Bart Jones is a former FBI Agent.  It was his position as an FBI Agent that got him in trouble with some nasty crime gangs overseas and one of those individuals took it up himself to rape and murder Kelly Jones, Bart’s wife, while their daughter Angelica was forced to watch.  No one should have to deal with that, not even Bart Jones, but it was his decisions after that event that led his daughters to hate him forever.

He split them up.  Sending one way to live in foster care and the other to a Catholic monastery where she would become a nun.  Kayla ended up in the foster care of an abusive drunk and Angelica never got to have a real childhood because of her situation.  Now they do not want to have anything to do with their father.

Bart ended up playing the role of Jewish refugee in his Voyage of the Damned.  He was on a ship whose fate had been sealed.  It would not dock.  It would not give him another chance at life with his daughters.  They were done with him and he knew it.

“It is beautiful,” I nod in affirmation before turning back around to face the stain glass window he was referring to “I may be Anglican but I do venerate the Blessed Virgin Mary.”

My uncle, through marriage not through blood, steps up by my side and he too stares up at the window, not so much in awe the way I am but more so with sadness and a longing.  In fact, I could almost swear I see tears forming in his eyes.

“My wife was a true devoted daughter of Mary.” He says as his voice starts cracking just slightly, just enough that I can tell he is getting upset. “She instilled that devotion and love towards Our Lady into our girls, Angelica and Kayla.”

“What was she like?”

Kelly is my Aunt, my aunt by blood, but I never did get a chance to really know her that well.  My mother, her sister Mary, divorced my father and he got custody of me so I rarely ever visited that side of the family.  By the time I got old enough to make trips over there Kelly had been killed.  I have asked my mother about her but she doesn’t like talking about her.  It’s too painful for her to remember that time.  But perhaps Uncle Bart would be more willing to talk?

“Kelly was the kindest, most compassionate woman you would ever meet.” Bart begins in a very definitive voice. “In many ways she was kind to a fault.  She would help anyone unquestioningly.”

He chuckles to himself. “That kind of person is called a sucker in today’s society but truthfully she was a better Christian than anyone else I know.”

He approaches the bronze marker which reads ‘Kelly Jones: Beloved Mother’ and places a hand upon it, bowing his head as he fights back the inevitable tears that form in his eyes.  I approach him and place a comforting hand of my own on his shoulder.

“It’s ok, mate…”

“It’s just real hard to think about her; especially knowing that she is never coming back.”

I wish I could tell him that I knew how he felt.  I wish I could tell that I could feel his pain.  The problem was that it would be a lie.  I cannot feel his pain and I do not understand what he is going through as I have never suffered that kind of loss before.  I cannot imagine losing someone that close to me.

“Uncle Bart, I know this is difficult but I need you to try and answer this next question for me, ok?”

“What is it?” He asks, turning back around to face me.

“How traumatizing was her death on Angelica and Kayla?”

There’s a pause for a few moments.  He blinks several times, studying me, calculating a response.

“Why are you asking that?”

“I’m sorry if I’m prying too much, Uncle Bart, it’s just that…”

“It’s what…” his voice trails off.

“Well things seemed to change so drastically after she died.  You sent them away.  They hate you now.  I mean, it must’ve been very traumatizing if all that happened.”

A grin forms on his face.  He then shuts his eyes and starts laughing. “Wow, you sure do have it wrong…”

“Huh?”

“That death was traumatizing but it did not cause them to hate me.  It’s my own fault that my daughters hate me.”

He turns his back on me, his head bowed in shame. “The person who killed my wife was from the Russian mafia.  I knew those guys and I knew their tactics.  I didn’t want to keep my girls in any danger so I sent them away.  To add extra safety measures I separated them.  I sent Kayla away to foster care and Angelica to a convent.  Let the bastards track me down and kill me but leave my girls alone.”

“Sounds to me like you did what you had to do, mate.”

“Yes but look what happened to them.  Kayla got molested and beaten by that bastard Oliver Hardy.  Angelica was driven to the point of attempted suicide on numerous occasions.  All because of me.”

He turns back to face me.  Tears are flowing down his cheek.  “Why are you asking me these questions, Glory?”

I smile sheepishly. “I guess I was hoping to get some advice from you on how to handle my own personal problems with Angelica and Kayla, seeing as you have history with this and all.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I have nothing but problems when it comes to my daughters.  I have no solutions.” He chuckles, then he cocks his head to one side. “But you three were once inseparable.  What happened?”

“It’s silliness, really…you probably wouldn’t care…”

“Try me.”

I sigh deeply. “Angelica and Kayla introduced me to professional wrestling.  Now, over six years later, I am a twelve time world champion and a member of two halls of fame.”

“So?”

“So your oldest daughter thinks I owe her and her sister a great big thank you for my career accomplishments.”

“Do you agree with her?”

“My mind says yes but my pride says no.  My pride says that I earned those titles on my own and I didn’t need them.”

Bart grins from ear to ear. “We’re not exactly in the same situation then.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t have a chance to make things right with my girls.  They have completely disowned me.” He walks up to me and places strong, firm hands upon my shoulders. “But you still have a chance to make things right with them.”

“I know that, Uncle Bart…it’s just…”

“Difficult?” I nod my head. “Life is full of difficult decisions, Glory.  And the consequences of the decisions we make sometimes are even more difficult than the decisions themselves.  But you cannot making a decision.  Avoiding a decision is in and of itself a decision and all of the decisions we make do have consequences that we have to live with for the rest of our lives.  I made the choice to send my girls away from me and the consequence of that decision is that they will never again love me.”

I can sense a pleading look upon his face. “Please, make the right decision before it is too late for you too.”

==========

Decisions

==========

The decisions we make in our life have long lasting effects.  These effects, these consequences, are always there, and are always felt, sometimes long after we are gone from this planet.  My decision to stand side by side with the likes of Jackson Adams, Angelica Jones, and Aerik Walker to form the Apocalypse created a ripple effect that was felt in MCW, FWA, and GDW.  And now, thanks to Apocalypse, I have back up to ensure tricks or interference from the likes of you or your goons will not stop me from achieving my thirteenth world heavyweight championship.

I made a decision to come into FWA not with the desire to become FWA World Champion but to give it a champion it could look up to, a worthy champion, a legitimate champion.  Thus I went into End of Worlds wanting to push you to your limits and I did just that.  For sixty minutes I gave you everything you could handle and then some and I came within a hair of defeating you for my world championship then.

But the consequence of my decision was that I allowed myself to be fooled by your tricks.  You assaulted my father at ringside and I let that happen because I didn’t think even someone like you would stoop to that low in order to retain your championship.  I was wrong and I paid dearly for being wrong.  I paid dearly for my decision.

Oh but you were the one who decided to use my father as a pawn in your sick game, Isis.  You made the decision to use the coward’s way out instead of defeating me legitimately.  As a result still no one recognizes you as a real world champion.  As a result of your actions you are still a joke, the laughing stock of professional wrestling.

Unfortunately when our world champion is a laughing stock that also means our company as well becomes a joke, a laughing stock in the wrestling world.  And it all because of you and your decision to win by any means necessary.

FWA is my home you twisted son of a bitch and you have done everything within your power to ruin it, to desecrate it.  You dropped your pants and took a great big shit on the FWA name all because you felt like it.  That alone is enough to piss me off but then you had to go and attack my father.  You had to put your hands on my family.

You made this personal, Isis, and that also is a decision that has consequences.

As a professional I go to the ring only trying to win.  But when you make it personal the way you have, I do not go to the ring just trying to win.  My goal is to beat you so badly that you are humbled and humiliated.  My goal is to leave you battered in the center of the ring with no life left in your lungs after I’ve choked you out.

The consequence of you making this personal, Isis, is that I am going to defeat your for the FWA World Heavyweight Championship and I will make it hurt when I do it.  It will hurt physically, emotionally, and mentally.

The consequences of me becoming FWA World Champion again will be felt almost immediately.  Honor and dignity will be restored to this great company.  Prestige will be restored to this great championship.

And you?  If everyone is lucky you’ll just invent another place that doesn’t exist and go stay there, freeing FWA from the stench of your very existence.

==========

Voyage of the Damned

Act 4 ; Scene 2

==========

Being in Boston has its advantages.  The biggest advantage for me is the fact that the Jones family is located here.  My Uncle Bart and my cousins Angelica and Kayla call this wonderful city home.  It is quite a lovely place and really, truly, the only downside to being here is having to make the trek back to London in time for the FWA Darkness Within pay per view.  But being here is worth it, even if I have to make another flight back to the United Kingdom.

My Uncle Bart is a perfect illustration of what loss looks like.  He lost his wife to a murderer, he made a foolish decision to get rid of his children and he lost them as well.  Now he has nothing and no real hope of ever getting anything back.  He is also a stark reminder of what could happen to me if I continue on the path that I am currently on.

Glenn Braddock, my esteemed father, has been my trainer all of my career and I have yet to even thank him for what he has done for my career.  He never asked for a thank you but still, I should thank him.  He deserves at least some recognition from his own daughter who took his wrestling knowledge and expertise and ran with it to become one of the greatest wrestlers of all time.

Seeing my father laid out on the floor at End of Worlds at the hands of Isis Derrida should have been a wake up call right then and there but it wasn’t.  All I was focused on was revenge, revenge against Isis Derrida and a desire to regain the FWA World Heavyweight Championship.

Yes, I will get my opportunity to win back the FWA World Heavyweight Championship coming up at Darkness Within.  I will get my opportunity to get my revenge and beat Isis Derrida all over the 02 Arena in front of my hometown crowd.  But what’s more important, kicking his ass and becoming world champion for a thirteenth time or making sure my father knows that I am grateful to him?  I do not want to ever risk losing my father and once Darkness Within is over I intend to let him know how I feel about him.

Angelica Jones and her sister Kayla helped me get started in this industry by getting me a contract to wrestle in the Global Division of Wrestling. Angelica went even further by helping me get an MCW contract, an MWA contract, and urged me to continue on in FWA when it was born out of the fire of MCW.  They have been there every step of the way in my journey in this industry.

No, they did not fight my battles for me.  I did not need them to.  I won my championships on my own and earned my own hall of fame rings.  But the truth is that without them, my history would be very different.  The truth is that I do not know where I would be today were it not for them getting me started in all the right places.

Another truth is that ultimately the pride I feel regarding my accomplishments in this industry pales in comparison to the importance of family.  The relationship I have with my family should never be compromised, should never be allowed to die, because of pride.  If Angelica and Kayla want a thank you, then that’s what they will get, because I refuse to become like Bart Jones.

Alone.  Forgotten.

I knew what I wanted to do as soon as I finished speaking with Uncle Bart, so I left from the mausoleum straight to the Jones estate in Boston, Massachusetts, a place warmly and lovingly (and legally) nicknamed “Purgatory” by Angelica Jones herself.  This isn’t her childhood home.  Her childhood home had been destroyed in an explosion that, to this day, is unsolved.  It didn’t matter too much to Jones.  Once Angelica won her first world championship, once she got the taste of the fame and success that went with gold, she wanted to live somewhere that better suited her new lifestyle. Thus she bought this huge home a few miles away from where she grew up.

I approach the front door with no apprehension whatsoever.  Angelica may not particularly like me right now but I don’t think she’d attack me here.  And if she did, I can certainly defend myself.

After pressing the doorbell I stand there and wait patiently for an answer.  It opens and, much to my surprise, Angelica isn’t the one standing there to greet me.  Instead I am greeted by a raven haired beauty in a tight pink dress.

Lindsey Carter.

“Oh, hello Lindsey…”

Seeing this woman here is still strange.  Angelica has been open about being a lesbian for quite some time now, that’s not new, but actually being married to someone of the same gender is still unusual for me to see.

“Hi, Glory!” She answers cheerfully. “I honestly wasn’t expecting you to stop by.”

“Me either, mate.”

“Are you, uh, here to see Angelica?”

I nod my head slowly. “That’s right.  Is she here?”

“Yes.  Actually, she’s waiting for you in the living room.”

I blink my eyes a few times rapidly out of mere curiosity. “Wait, I thought you said you weren’t expecting me?”

“Right, I wasn’t.  Angelica was expecting you though.  She got your messages via twitter.  But I really didn’t think you’d actually show.”

“Oh…right…”

I sigh, even Lindsey Carter thinks I am a terrible person.  Maybe I am?  Maybe I am just a selfish, prideful, arrogant person?  Well that changes starting now.  The black haired woman motions for me to follow her as she turns and walks into the home.  Thinking nothing of it, but steeling myself for anything, I follow her deep into the Jones estate.

This is somewhat new for me.  I haven’t visited her new place that often as we have usually been enemies more so than friends.  The decorations in the home, the paintings and statues, are quite lovely.  Most of them are of saints and of those saints the most highly represented is The Blessed Virgin Mary.  Kelly Jones did truly pass that onto her daughters.

Carter leads me down a hall and then through a large door that leads into a magnificent, grandiose looking living room. Lindsey walks over to a comfy crème colored sofa where Angelica herself is seated.

“You have a visitor, babe.”

Lindsey leans down and kisses her on the lips.  Jones is wearing a black floral print maxi skirt with a sleeveless top to complete the outfit. Black sandals are on her feet.

“Thanks, darling.  Get me some wine.”

“Will do.”

And with that, like an obedient little dog, Lindsey nods and walks out of the living room.  I am stunned.  I haven’t seen Angelica quite like this.  This is so domestic.  Totally unlike Angelica…

Not the Angelica I remember.

I am watching this in stunned amazement and it takes Angelica snapping her fingers to get me back to attention.

“Hello?  Earth to Glory?  Hello?”

“Huh?” I turn back to face my cousin who is grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, sorry, I was just a little distracted.”

“Lindsey tends to do that to me too…”

“Not THAT kind of distracted, Angelica!”

She snickers. “Sorry, I had to do it.  You are so easy to agitate, you know?”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “Can we get down to serious business, please?”

“Oh you’re no fun.” She says, feigning a pout. “What happened to the old prankster Glory?”

“I grew up.”

“I noticed.” She scoots over and pats the sofa seat next to her. “Have a seat.”

Sighing I sit down next to her.  At that time Lindsey returns with two glasses of wine.  She hands one of the glasses to her wife and then the other is handed to me.  Angelica takes a sip and then looks over at me grinning.

“Drink up.  You do like wine, don’t you?”

“I do…” finally I take a sip.

“So what else can I get you?” She asks, sounding genuine. “Snacks?  I can have Lindsey get us some food.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, Angelica…”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Suit yourself.  She’ll be here though if we need her, though there are some things she’ll only do with me, right babe?”

The pair wink at each other and it almost makes my stomach turn over. “That’s right, Angel!”

“Ok, why don’t you entertain yourself, ok Linds?  Glory and I have things to discuss.”

“Sure thing.” With that Lindsey again exits the room.  Once she is gone I turn and look at my cousin.

“What is all of this about, Angelica?”

“What’s wrong?  Did you change your mind about the food?  I can call her back in here.”

“No, I am not hungry.” I shake my head. “I just want to know why you are being so damn nice!”

“Oh that…” her voice trails off; she sighs “…I just want to show you that I can be nice, that I am not some monster.”

“Angelica, I just…”

“Just shut up and listen for a moment.” Her voice is harder, more frustrated now than it was earlier. “All I ever wanted out of you was one simple thing.”

She holds up one finger. “One rather simple request.  I wanted you to thank me and my sister for how we’ve helped in your career.”

“I know…”

“And you refused to do that.  Not only that but you made out like we were monsters.  How do you think we’re going to react?”

“I was wrong, ok?!” I exclaim loudly. “I was wrong and you were right.  You both were a major influence and you both played a big role in helping me get to where I am today.”

“And…” she pauses, waiting on something else.  I know what that something else is but I don’t want to say it again.

“I already said it on twitter.”

“Twitter is a public outlet, yes, but I was hoping for something grander.  Or at least something more personal.”

“Fine…thank you, Angelica.  Thank you, you and your sister both, thank you.”

She grins from ear to ear. “You’re welcome.  Now then…about those snacks…”

“Huh?” Confusion is etched across my face. “That quickly?  Are you bipolar or something?”

She chuckles. “Nope!  I may be a lot of different crazies but bipolar isn’t one of them!”

“But…”

“I said that all I ever wanted out of you was a thank you and I meant that.  Whatever issues we had with each other is over as far as I’m concerned.  You and I can start with a blank slate if you want.”

I stare at her, into the eyes of a woman many call a psychopath, a woman many call a dragon or a monster.  But the eyes looking back at me are not the eyes of a dragon or a monster.  They are just the eyes of my cousin.  Tears begin to form in my own eyes and I reach up to wipe them away.

“I would like that.”

“Now don’t you go crying on me!” She leans in and we embrace. “Future world champions don’t cry!”

“Right…” I pause after we break our embrace “…but Angelica…”

“Yes?”

“What about Kayla?”

She sighs and shakes her head. “I can’t speak for her.  She is her own woman.  Kayla will make her own decisions.”

“You will talk to her though, won’t you?”

“I will talk to her, Glory.  But like I said, I can’t make any promises.  But I do have one question for you.”

“What is it?” I ask out of curiosity

“I’ve been hounding your ass for over a month about this.  What made you change your mind?”

I grin knowingly. “Not what, but rather who…”

“Ok…who then?”

“Your father.”

She frowns.  That frown turns into hate.  She has intense feelings towards her father.  Angelica hates her father more than anyone else.  Maybe mentioning her father was a bad idea, but then again, she did ask.  I’m only telling her the truth.

“Is that so…?”

“I saw your father and what he had become.” I shut my eyes tightly. “A hopeless wretch who had lost everything.  He had lost his wife to death and his own daughters hate him.  He lost his entire family and I didn’t want to see that happen to me.  I decided right then and there that I wanted to make peace with you and Kayla before I turned out like him.”

“Well…” she sighs “…at least he was good for something.”

“You should give him a chance, Angelica.  He seems sorrowful for what happened.”

Angelica shakes her head. “It will take a lot to ever get past what happened.  It won’t be as easy as it was for you and me.”

“True, but at least there is hope, right?  At least you’re not damned.”

==========

The Cowardly Lion

==========

We open in what is daytime although that can hardly been seen through the dense forest and trees and other greenery surrounding the area.  Birds can be heard chirping and squirrels and other small animals are seen running here and there off in the distance.  As the camera pans out we can see that we are on what appears to be brick; albeit a strange brick that is a golden yellow color.  I then emerge from the forest covering, dressed in a knee length black pencil skirt, matching black blazer over the top of a white silk blouse.  Black high heeled pumps encase my feet and black sunglasses are on over my eyes.  I am holding a book in one hand and a stuffed plush lion toy in the other.

“Greetings!  I am Glory Braddock and welcome to the wonderful land of Oz!”

I hold up the book so that the camera can get a good close view of the title, which reads ‘The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum with pictures by W.W. Denslow’.  It has a green cover and looks weathered and aged, almost to the point that it could disintegrate at any point.  So I take great pains to be careful with this book.

“This children’s story, written by L. Frank Baum, chronicles the adventures of a young girl named Dorothy Gale in the Land of Oz, after being taken away in a tornado.  Together with the Tin Woodman, The Scarecrow, the Cowardly Lion, and her trusty companion Toto, they sought out the Wizard of Oz who they hoped would assist them in various ways, but the overarching theme in the whole story is that of self-contradiction.”

“Our friend The Scarecrow believes that he has no brains, despite the fact that he comes up with clever solutions to several problems along their journey through Oz.  The Tin Woodman believes that he has no heart, and yet he is moved to tears when misfortune befalls the various creatures they encounter.  Finally, The Cowardly Lion believes that he has no courage even though he is consistently brave through their journey.”

I hold up the plush lion for the camera to see.  “And it is that lion we are talking about today!”

“When we first meet the cowardly lion in the Wizard of Oz he is convinced that he has no courage because of his false notion of what courage really is.  Courage isn’t being able to intimidate people.  Courage means acting in the face of fear as opposed to running away.  The lion consistently acted in the face of fear, proving to himself, his companions, and the wizard that he did have courage.”

I turn the lion over so that we are looking at its underside, its belly.  The belly of this lion has a name inscribed on it.  The name inscribed on the belly is ‘Isis Derrida’.

“In The Wizard of Oz, The Cowardly Lion had many opportunities to prove his courage and he did just that with shining colors.  You were faced with the same opportunity at End of Worlds, Isis.  We were all tied up with the match drawing to a close.  You were the defending champion and as a former champion myself I can understand the position you were in.  I can understand the pressure you were under.  You didn’t want to lose the world heavyweight championship.  Believe me, I know what it is like.  When you become champion it is like an addiction.  It is like a drug that you can’t get enough of.  And when you lose that drug, when you lose that championship, you start to have withdrawal symptoms.  And when I had tied things up in our Iron Man Match you were seeing your title reign flash before your eyes.  Those withdrawal symptoms were already beginning, weren’t they Isis?”

“Being afraid in that situation is perfectly understandable.  Most champions would have been, even though they would never admit it.  So don’t be ashamed of being afraid in those moments.  It was perfectly normal.  What you should be ashamed of, though, is the decision you made.  You could have chose to stare fear in the eye, to spit fear in the eye, and face me down to the bitter end and take the result, the real result, whether it had been win, lose, or draw.  That’s what a real champion would have done.  That’s what our friend the lion from The Wizard of Oz would have done.”

I toss the book off camera.  I take the plush lion, which I have affectionately named Isis Derrida, with both hands and stare into its eyes as if staring into the eyes of Isis Derrida himself.

“But you proved to the world that you really were a coward.  There are cowardly ways out, but what you did was the lowest of the lows.  No one in this industry respects what you did, Isis.  No one.  If you wanted people to recognize you as a legitimate world champion then what you did just had the opposite effect.  Any supporters you had going in were lost after you assaulted my father in a cheap attempt to gain victory in the final fall.  What you did, ultimately, was show your true colors.  On the outside you look like a fearsome lion but deep down inside you are nothing but a coward.”

I toss the plush stuffed toy lion off camera.  “First of all, I will defeat you for the FWA World Heavyweight Championship.  And I am going to take my time doing it.  I am going to draw it out, not to simply punish you physically but because I want to humiliate you.  I want the entire world, but most especially my home country, to watch me take you to school, to put on a wrestling clinic.  I want them all to watch me beat you until you cannot stand up and then, when I have decided I have had my fun, I will slap on Shekhinah Glory.  You will tap out or you will choke out.  Your choice will be that simple.”

“The second thing I want to tell you is that you have now been exposed as the fraudulent cowardly lion that you really and truly have been all along.  Whatever little fear and respect that you had instilled in the world from winning the Rumble Bash is all gone now that I have showed the world who you really are and after I’m through with you, more will come to kick your ass, not for the world championship because I’ll have it, but because they just want to kick your ass.  They will see you as an easy target, a target that runs away in fear, who cowers in fear at the slightest challenge that comes his way, the coward that has to hire people to protect him because he cannot protect himself.”

“And do you really think your hired hands like Jay and Lance or Willow Wilkes will stay by your side once I have taken that world heavyweight championship away from you?” I shake my head. “No, they’ll all be gone and you know it.  They are mercenaries.  They follow the money, or in this case they follow the championship.  And when it goes, they’ll go.”

I snicker. “Willow Wilkes seems a mite annoying but I might offer those Williams boys a job after I win the world championship if they’re interested.”

“Point is, I am taking everything away from you, Isis.  I am taking your world championship away from you, I am taking your friends and allies away from you, I am taking your reputation away from you.  When Darkness Within comes to its conclusion, and I have my hand raised in victory having been crowned the new FWA World Heavyweight Champion, you will be nothing more than a shell of a former self.”

“Sic Semper Tyrannis…” I flash the Apocalypse hand gesture “…death to tyrants!”