So, Fuckwitgate has come to a sudden and merciful end. Wendy hasn’t actually met the Archbishop yet, but at least she can enter the Anarchy PPV with the full knowledge that she’s not going to be excommunicated. Probably a good thing, because the last thing she needs heading into a major PPV is the overlying fear of being kicked out of her church. As groundless as it probably is.
Anyways, it’s a beautiful day in the Metroplex as we the scene opens up. Wendy is sitting on a park bench, in front of a commons meadow with a fairly stately building behind her. Occasionally, behind her, a person walks by, some holding books, some holding Frisbees or a football. Several are wearing shirts with the red silhouette of a galloping horse upon them. For her part, Wendy’s dressed in a simple green windbreaker, her red hair tied back in a ponytail.
“Well, here we are!”
“Finally, the time has come for Anarchy, the final FFW show of the year. I have to confess, it was kind of nice that the PPV was moved to the week after Thanksgiving, instead of the week of. It’s a bit nicer to enjoy a holiday without feeling one of the most important shows of the year looming over your head- a show that could either make or break your momentum coming into the next year.”
Wendy chuckles.
“Not that I had an easy weekend last week, mind you. It was an honor going into SVW for a night, and finally getting to finish what I had begun with Wendigo last year at When Worlds Collide. That was just a FUN match, wasn’t it? I had a blast, and I think Wendigo had a blast, too. Like I told him, that felt at times that it was more of a dance than a fight… although I’ve never woken up that sore the morning after going dancing!”
Wendy grins.
“Seriously, though. I feel blessed for the opportunity, even moreso because I somehow managed to come out of that match with a win. Beating Wendigo… that’s no small feat, and that I was able to do it with the Emerald Cyclone, a move that’s backfired on me more often than not this year… I won’t lie that it’s not a bit of a confidence booster to know that I can still pull it off going forward!”
“So tonight is the second of a difficult three match stretch I’m ending the year with. And it’s interesting, because I think each of the three matches has a bit of a different motivation behind them. For Wendigo, it was all about closure. Finishing what we had started eleven months ago and bringing it to a satisfactory conclusion. For this match tonight… I don’t really want to use the word ‘revenge’, but… yeah. In a lot of ways, I guess it is. I consider it more making a point, to be honest, but I suppose your mileage may vary here.”
Wendy leans back on the bench, and gestures to the commons and building behind her.
“Before we go any further, I want to tell you all a bit of a story here. I’m sitting here on the campus of Southern Methodist University, right here in Dallas, Texas. As I talk, a couple thousand miles away, their football team, the SMU Mustangs, are playing the Connecticut Huskies in their final game of the season. This is their last chance for a win. They sit oh and eleven, and as of this morning sat twelve point underdogs to the Huskies. They may be going down in history as one of the worst teams in recent memory.”
There’s no mockery in Wendy’s voice as she says this, only a matter-of-fact speech.
“It wasn’t always like this. Thirty years ago, back in the 1980s, SMU was a juggernaut. They ran- literally RAN over any team they faced, their rushing game so dominant it was coined the “Pony Express.” They won Southwest Conference championships, contended for the National Championship. And they were smug about it. They were every bit the embodiment of the arrogance and swagger you’d associate with 1980’s Dallas.”
“At least until the scandal broke. Wave after wave of scandals, showing that SMU wasn’t exactly winning fairly. No, they were cheating. Blatantly cheating. Paying players under the table, buying them cars, hiring them for fake jobs where they were paid thousands of dollars to not even show up. The University knew… even approved of the antics. Because through it all, they kept winning, and as long as they were winning, everything was okay.”
“Eventually, everything caught up to them. They were hit with probation. Banned from playing in postseason bowl games or appearing on television. And yet, more and more, the cheating persisted. In their arrogance they continued to cheat, to do what they were doing. They ignored every single edict the NCAA- college sports’ governing body- threw at them. They were out of control.”
“And so it was… in that very building behind me, on a February morning in 1987, that the NCAA sat down, and handed down the harshest penalty ever known. They called it the Death Penalty, which is a bit of a misnomer, because unlike true death, it wasn’t permanent. But the team was shut down for two years. The penalty was so severe that the man who announced the sanctions passed out afterwards from the pressure of doing something so extreme.”
Wendy looks back at the hall, and shakes her head sadly.
“SMU never recovered. Since the team was reinstated in 1989, they have had four winning seasons, and three of those have come in the last five years. Even today, they cannot shake the stigma of being the one team… the ONE team, out of all the scandals that have wracked college football over the years… to be so corrupt they had no choice but to be exiled. They still struggle with their identity.”
Which makes the fact that they hired Larry Fucking Brown to coach basketball all the more hilarious, but that’s neither here nor there.
“So why am I telling you all this? Why dredge up a scandal from thirty years ago in a wrestling promo? Not to embarrass SMU, because the vast majority of students and faculty here are, and have always been fine, upstanding individuals. But it proves a point- that we can win all we want, but in the end, we cannot escape our methods, or the stigma they inevitably creates.”
“I’m going up tonight against a proud, arrogant woman in Mika Demidov. Like SMU, she’s practically come out of nowhere to become a powerhouse and a threat to the highest rankings in the company. Like SMU, she’s done it with no small amount of arrogance and audacity. And just like SMU, many of her biggest successes have come thanks to illicit means that she thinks she’s gotten away with.”
“And just like SMU… sooner or later it all comes crashing down.”
Wendy takes a deep breath, leaning forward on the bench.
“See, Mika, it’s been a wonderful year for you, and nobody can take that away. You shocked the world, wrinkled a few noses, walked around with the FFW Championship, and even picked up four end of year awards. You should be proud, maybe not insufferably arrogantly so like you have been, but proud nonetheless.”
“But now the REALLY hard part comes, Mika. See, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s a pattern that filters amongst the FFW Champions that have flitted through this company’s history. Getting to the top here in FFW is hard. You have to fight your way up through the ranks, maybe catch a couple of breaks, and have dang near the best match of your life to get there. And then holding onto the championship is not any easier. But the true test… that comes after. After the bell rings and someone else’s hand is raised and you learn that the title isn’t going home with you tonight. That’s when the gut check truly starts.”
“How many women collapsed after losing the FFW Championship. Amy did- she disappeared for a year, and was a shell of her former self when she returned. Emma did- it’s been four years since she lost the FFW Championship, and she hasn’t posed a true threat to the belt since. Kitty Stryfe never recovered. Katherine Stryfe lost like twelve straight matches after losing hers. Stacey Mackenzie imploded, and the unbeatable stigma that used to surround her has evaporated completely. Even Valerie Lamb has lost more than she’s won in the year since I took the belt for her. Heck, Isabella Pazzini went the same way, and was only save thanks to corruption and the Sydney Screwjob that she was able to get back into the picture and salvage her career. Only one woman has truly broken the pattern- Scarlett Kincaid.”
A small grimace, and Wendy takes a short, nervous breath.
“I’m trying to break the pattern. I’ve done everything right so far. I’ve dropped a couple matches, yes, but I’ve avoided a collapse. I’m back in contention, I’ve been taking care of business. Sooner or later I’m going to get that chance, and when the time comes I’m going to reach out and grab it. See, I may not be the most explosive wrestler in this company. But I may be the most consistent. Week in and week out over the last three years, not many… if any… women have maintained the level I have. I haven’t broken the pattern yet, but neither have I succumbed to it. And I like my odds.”
“Now its your turn, Mika. Here you are, the first match you’ve had since losing the title. Which pattern are you going to follow? The long slide down, or the fight to climb back up? I know you’re hoping for the the latter… of course. Nobody likes the former, but you know what?”
“History’s not exactly favoring you here.”
Wendy snorts, more in disdain than amusement, and shakes her head.
“You see Mika, all the women who have slid down? They all have one thing in common- they’re not very principled. Amy, Emma, Kitty, and Isabella all spit on the concept of principles as a weakness. Kat was extremely selfish and allowed herself to be burdened by a persecution complex. Stacey proved to be as fake as you could possibly get. And while Val is no doubt a nice, pleasant, likeable person, she still has time and again demonstrated that she views convictions as little more than a burden. Only Scarlett has shown herself to be a principled individual, and if you notice, when she became disillusioned and cast those aside for a time, it resulted in the least successful stretch of her career.”
“See, what you fail to understand, is that all this crap you pull- cheating, bragging, disrespectful antics… it’s all temporary. None of it lasts, and you have to keep upping the ante until you go bust. It’s like a drug, almost. You’ll just keep looking for the quick fix, and sooner or later it won’t come. You’ll get figured out and exposed. It’ll stop coming, and then what do you do? You panic, you get in over your head, and push yourself straight off the cliff.”
“I have the mental discipline you lack, Mika. I know to take things one match at a time, but I also know that our careers are not played out as successes or failures in the span of a single night. I can cope with failure, no matter how painful it will be, because I always know that I have the patience to succeed in the end.”
Wendy pauses and takes a deep breath, cricking her neck as she does.
“Four months ago, you put that to the test. You cut a promo, mockingly exhorting the values I hold dear, only to turn around and spit on them in the middle of the ring. You disrespected me every step of the way, and you ended up getting away with it. That was infuriating. Of course it was. Six months preparing for the match, and to have it all ripped away like that, by YOUR hands? Oh, no, that didn’t sit well with me. Didn’t sit well with me at ALL.”
“I can’t say for certain I would have won that match, but I KNOW for a FACT that I would have kicked out without the leverage from the ropes. I dang near did WITH them. It was so cheap. It was desperation tactics played by a desperate woman who saw the end of her reign in my eyes the moment that match was finalized. But you got away with it. In some people’s minds, that was an accomplishment, so bask in it. Love it. One of the crowning moments of your year is that you held on to a rope.”
“People have said that I haven’t been the same since that night. I’ve been angrier, less friendly, more bitter. Like the White Knight has been tarnished, all because of what happened.”
Wendy quickly stretches, and shakes her head.
“And they’re all wrong. I was angry, of course I was angry. I have every dang right to be angry! But bitter and tarnished? Hardly! I’m still the same person I’ve always been. You see me on Twitter, you see me on the streets, I’m still friendly and willing to talk. I’m every bit as approachable as I’ve always been.”
“But I am a bit more assertive and driven than before. That I won’t deny. But you know what? That’s not me being bitter… that’s me being BETTER. That’s me riding forth and being proactive, not simply waiting to react. I’m not butting heads with Isabella Pazzini because I’m bitter, I’m doing it because she’s unethically turning a division into her own personal science playground. I’m not calling out Valentina because I’m bitter, I’m doing it because she’s a horrid manipulative woman who’s hurt people I respect and care for. And I’m not in this match tonight because I’m bitter, I’m in this match because you’re a horrible toxin that needs to be expunged.”
“The fans know this difference, Mika. They see it, they know what I’m trying to do. That’s why I have an end of year award of my own.”
Wendy pushes herself off the bench, walking towards the side, nearly bumping into someone chasing a frisbee.
“Whoops, ‘scuse me.”
The Frisbee chaser doesn’t even seem to notice the apology, spinning away to go after the disc. Wendy shrugs off the contact, smiling, and shrugs.
“Obviously you’re well aware of that. You were at Breakdown playing it up for all it’s worth. I’m the Most Loved, you’re the Most Hated. I’m good, you’re bad. I’m nice, you’re mean. You just LOVE the thought of the Villian of the Year knocking off the Hero.
“But ever since the Awards Night, and your actions hence, I’ve been kind of wondering. If you had to choose between them, which one would you prefer? Villain of the year? Or Femme Fatale of the Year?”
“If you were being truly honest with yourself… you’d choose the former. It’s clear by now, Mika that being a gadfly is FAR more important to you than being a wrestler. You’d much rather irritate the fans and provoke your opponents than to have in-ring success. In fact, I think your main drive for having success is because the more you win, the more license you have to annoy people even more. Heck, think about how you acted in the wake of losing the FFW Championship.”
“It was totally okay. You had the belt for four months, which is about par for the course these days. You have a rematch coming up. It’s cool Scarlett- who in your own words is pathetic- walked away with your belt. It didn’t really matter that you lost because OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE HOW ANGRY SCAR GOT WITH YOU?!”
Wendy laughs and shakes her head incredulously.
“Honestly, I think you care more about that than any title in the world. Scarlett just beat the living tar out of you, and ripped the title from your hands… but you got under her skin by telling lies about her, so you can brag. You made a fan favorite upset. The crowning achievement in Mikaela Demidov’s book, title’s be damned!”
“It’s little things like this that makes it harder and harder to take you seriously every time you open your mouth to spew garbage. There will be more coming tonight, a whole barrage of antagonistic crap that has no bearing on truth or reality, because you couldn’t care less about any of that. You’ve already admitted it. So now that you’ve pretty much admitted you’re nothing more than a pack of venomous lies, what reason do we even have to listen to you?”
Wendy smiles, and srhugs again, as she keeps walking.
“See, Mika? Like I said from the get go… it all gets exposed in the end. Just like SMU doomed themselves with more and more desperate attempts to keep themselves from being discovered, you’ve doomed yourself with more and more desperate tactics to keep yourself afloat. But it’s only a matter of time before that water’s too much, Mika, and you’re simply washed away!”
“It’s those of us who know how to properly swim that can stay in the water for the long run, Mika. You’d do well to learn that quickly.”
Wendy hops out of the way as a bicycle speeds past, giving a small short wave to the cyclist, who rings a bell in return. She resumes walking, the camera keeping up.
“See, its funny you mentioned my manager. You see, him being a troll… I don’t think I’ve seen him doing too much trolling, lately, outside of lame attempts to irk Freya. Truth be told, I think Pollaski’s gotten a bit in over his head with things, considering his two co-conspirators just stabbed him in the back and left him alone, by and large over his head. He’s basically learning the same thing you will eventually- that it’s all going to catch up with you sooner rather than later. He’s become desperate, just like you are.”
“And yes, Mika, you are desperate, despite your adamant refusal otherwise. You’ve been desperate ever since you got the spotlight because you are TERRIFIED of losing it. And you know the quickest way for that to happen is for someone like me, someone who rigidly plays by the rules and opposes you on the basest of fundamentals, to pick you off and render all your verbiage completely meaningless. You know how many times you can cheat, provoke, and disrespect me, and I’ll keep going, and all I need is to beat you ONCE to destroy it all. Losing to Scarlett did more damage to your position than you’ll ever be willing to admit, and you’re mortified a second loss to one of the ‘good girls’ will shatter your image completely. And without your image, without the ability to agitate the fans and opponents… you’re just a very talented wrestler. Definitely not four FFW award material.”
“Ironically your only salvation lies in your façade. And so you desperately are trying to provoke and cajole me, try to make me lose my edge, get under my skin, so that I’m thrown off my game and left vulnerable, so you can take another win and earn yourself another few months of notoriety. But sorry to say, Mika. It’s not going to work. Not anymore. Like I said earlier- you’ve damned your own words to irrelevance with your inability to keep yourself straight. You’re NOT going to get any satisfaction from me. Not tonight, not ever.”
A slight edge comes to Wendy’s tone, as she turns off the path onto a smaller trail, heading apparently towards the road.
“So let’s talk about tonight, Mika. I think you’re expecting me to come in a ball of fire, rage, and hatred. Someone who’s looking to shut you up once and for all. You’d be wrong on just about everything… okay, I’d kinda like you to shut up, but that’s cause you can get REALLY irritating.”
Wendy snorts again, this time in amusement, and shrugs.
“No, Mika, I don’t hate you. I don’t particularly like you, but I don’t hate you. If anything, I more pity you, and not in the sad enabling way Valerie does. No, I pity you because I think, deep down, you ARE someone who desperately wants the acclaim and respect of your peers, but have actually no idea how to go about getting it, and thus have to resort to attention seeking methods instead.”
“Nor am I on a quest to destroy you tonight. You’ll be doing that to yourself soon enough. I do consider it a duty and obligation to put a stop to you, but I can’t really do that tonight either. Either way, regardless of what happens tonight, we’re both going to get a shot at the FFW Championship down the road, me on the merit of my win over Valerie, and you on your rematch clause. Nothing either of us does will change that, although it might tamper the order that we get it in.”
“No, what tonight is about is paying back what I owe, and I owe a LOT. What I owe to you for your antics and stealing a match from me, yes, but beyond that. What I owe to every single person who cheered for me at Unstoppable, and groaned and cried when that bell rang and your hand was raised. What I owe to every single person who checked the box next to my name in the end of year awards voting. And what I owe to myself for the countless hours of training and the gallons of blood sweat and tears I have shed this year.
Wendy stops walking and turns towards the camera, both excitement and intensity dancing in her emerald eyes.
“And that’s to end this year on a high note. To get that monkey you put on my back off of it, and get some closure to the frustrations that I experienced at Unstoppable. To prove that I can best you, whether you play it clean or crooked, and to get the momentum I need to push myself up to the top of the mountain once again in 2015!”
Wendy spreads her arms wide, as if inviting Mika to charge at her here and now.
“So tonight, Mika, come as you will. Come crooked, come clean. Come with one of your buddies, or come alone. Just come to the ring ready for the toughest fight you’ve EVER been in. There won’t be any dancing tonight, Mikaela Demidov. Just a hard-nosed, hardscrabble wrestling match so intense you’ll be looking for a way out five minutes in.”
A short small, almost savage smile, as Wendy takes a step back, turning to go.
“Good luck finding one tonight.”
And away the White Knight walks.
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