Thursday January 15, 2015
2:17 PM Pacific Standard Time
Sleep Train Arena- Backstage Area
Sacramento, California
Scene opens in a backstage area, where Wendy Briese is standing in front of an FFW Banner. Not yet dressed to compete, but wearing a long black skirt and a black fleece with teal trim. She smiles at the camera, although the intensity is clear in her emerald eyes.
“So who’s ready for the first Velocity of Twenty-Fifteen?”
“There’s something always special about the first show of a new year, I’ve always felt. You put the previous year and all of its successes and failures behind you, and push yourself forward into a new light. The old is gone, the new is here, so once more around the sun, so to speak!”
A small grin.
“So I supoose its fitting that when you have a show during a time when thoughts are turned towards the future, that you bookend it with some of our youngest, most promising talent. Like the main event, when Lilly and Ignis go toe to toe in a steel cage to continue their brewing rivalry… and maybe for the chance for Lilly to smack Ignis hard enough to where her brain reverts to a state where she’s not a horrible psychopath…”
Wishful thinking there, amirite?
“And the night’s opening match features Lollipop going up against a woman I’ve gotten to know rather well over the past couple of weeks, Samantha Tolson. I have to say, I mainly agreed to help orientate Samantha to the company because her trainer is an old friend of mine. And while I won’t make any promises on whether or not she’ll win tonight against someone like Lollipop, I do know that she’s got a lot of upside to her, and it looks like a bright future.”
Wendy sounds excited, almost like a mentor about to watch their protegee take their first trial towards breaking out.
“What hit me the most is how much heart she has, and how much enthusiasm she has for the sport. It’s clear to me that Ryan trained her to love wrestling as much as respect it, and you can just see that in the way she acts, the way she talks, the eager anxiety she’s shown in the days leading up to this show. It’s fun to watch a rookie go through her debut jitters, knowing that we’ve all been there before.”
And the excited enthusiasm quickly fades…
“But it’s REALLY jarring to go from seeing raw untapped potential and enthusiasm and then turn my gaze across the ring to my opponent tonight, who’s pretty much anything but. Well, Mileena’s certainly RAW, that’s for sure. But whatever untapped potential we might have seen one is long gone. There’s no enthusiasm anymore. She doesn’t respect or love this sport. You can’t look in her eyes and see that eager spark.”
“No, all Mileena Savage is nowadays is a flurry of curse words, a bevy of insults and disrespect, and complaints. Lots… and lots… of complaints. She complains about the weather. About the fans. About her coworkers. About her bosses. About pretty much everything she can complain about.”
There’s a long silence, as Wendy pauses a good while, mulling something over in her head. Finally, she sighs, and looks directly into the camera.
“Mileena, why are you here?”
A disgusted shake of the head.
“No, seriously, why are you still in FFW? It’s obvious to pretty much everyone you’re not exactly enjoying yourself. You don’t enjoy the travel. You don’t enjoy the fans. You don’t enjoy the challenges of facing your opponents, considering you cop out of them at the first sign of things turning sour. You don’t enjoy your colleagues. What DO you enjoy? Dante? Don’t you think there’s a better way you two could enjoy your life than by fruitlessly doggy-paddling in this ocean of misery?”
“I mean, I’d understand it a bit more if you actually had a mission about you, but come on. Do you honestly believe anyone even remotely buys into this Canadian superiority schtick you’ve paraded around with for the past two years? Do you know how silly every time you spout this baloney and then go out and get your butt handed to you yet again?”
“Heck, if I were a Canadian, I’d be ticked at you for turning Canadian nationalism- which is real and well deserved by the millions of Canadians who work hard every day to make their country a better place- into a virtual punchline. Canadians are competitive and successful in every walk of life, whether its sports, business, politics, or entertainment, or anything… you honestly think they need a sub-500 wrestler who does nothing but cheat and say horrible things in promos as their representative?”
Another shake of the head, this one almost seeming frustrated.
“Not exactly what you’ve envisioned, is it? I remember a while ago you talking about how you dreamed for years about the moment you would hold a championship at this level and how you’d hold that belt with pride and a sense of ruthlessness. And here you are, still dreaming. You’ve had one shot at the No Surrender Championship and couldn’t get by Caroline Stark, and you haven’t gotten close since. That’s got to be frustrating. But with that knowledge, do you have any idea how ridiculous it makes you look every time you open your mouth?”
“Serioiusly, Mileena. If you ever stopped running your mouth for just a second, and thought about the logic you use to run others down, you’d realize how stupid you end up looking when people naturally take the same logic you use and apply it to your own self. Case in point- just one example here- on what planet do you think yawning about Dark Fantasy knocking off the Rockin’ Kittens to become the #1 Contender for the Unity straps is a good idea when you and Ashley have failed time and again to even get yourself into the conversation?”
“We could go all night with these examples. The way you talked to Casey. The way you talked to Val, the way you talked to everyone in the Ten Femme Chaos, including myself. Heck, even the way you talked to the Rudos. But… oddly… not the way you talked to Crystal, Jenny, or Of Poets and Prophets. Mainly because there’s no video of you talking about any of those matches.”
Again, Wendy looks disgusted, shaking her head and sighing heavily.
“Think about that Mileena… those three matches are among your last five and for NONE of them you could be bothered to stand in front of a camera and talk about your match. Three matches in the last several months that you didn’t bother to promote One of the most BASIC aspects of our job, and you couldn’t have cared less about performing it. THREE TIMES!”
“And you think yourself the ‘Pride of FFW?’”
Wendy can't help but chuckle in disdainful disbelief.
“Mileena, you don’t have a clue what pride is… what it TRULY is. You have the arrogance part down right, but showing pride in yourself, pride in your work? That drive that leads you to give everything you have in the ring and give everything you have for yourself? No, you’re a long way off, and don’t even deny it, because we all see it. You can’t even do the simplest requirements of your position, much less prove yourself willing to go the extra mile. You have no sense of presence, you have no presence of motivation, and you just flat out have no indication of giving a darn!”
“Seriously, where’s the drive? Where’s the fightback when you take a loss? Sure, if you get screwed we’ll hear it in the form of an infantile tantrum, like you did with Chris Kane. But you just lost to a tag team that you told not to even bother getting into the ring with you… where’s the humility and the gritted teeth and the promise to improve off of THAT debacle?”
“I suppose this is where you scrunch up and whine and go ‘Wendy Briese is looking down on me!’… and you know what… for once, you’re right. I *AM* looking down on you. Because that’s where you are, down there, on the lowest rungs you can slink on and still get peripherally noticed. And instead of actually trying to CLIMB, you simply reach up and try to pull down anyone you can reach. ‘Drag You Down’… that’s a pretty fitting name for an entrance song where you’re concerned!”
Wendy's intensity is starting to rise, and for a second, she actually looks a little angry.
“Is that what you want Mileena? Is this really what you’re happy with things turning out? You’ve rendered yourself into a cartoon caricature self-parody of obscenities and lies. You’re as predictable as they come. Match after match of spewing garbage at the camera and hoping something sticks to the lens. All the while praying that once every few matches or so you get lucky enough to where you can get away with something like hitting Summer in the face with a belt buckle and pick up a cheap win. Is that really how you want the rest of your FFW career to go?”
Wendy throws her arms out wide, a clear invitation, and challenge, to the redheaded Canadian.
“Well, here’s your chance, Mileena. Here’s your chance to suck it up and DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. You have ME. Contender for the FFW Championship across the ring from you tonight. With one fell sweep you can put FFW on notice that you’re more than just a cartoon character. You don’t like me, we all know that. How much fun would it be to stick it to me, right here tonight! And I just finished a murderer’s row of matches to end the year, and I have a monster four-way match in two weeks. This has trapdoor written all over it! I might just be overlooking you!”
“Except I don’t. I don’t overlook anybody, no matter how little I think of them, and you’re no exception. Every match counts for me, every match means something. And that comes from the same mindset that everything in this company matters, not just what happens in my own locker room. What you call meddling, I call caring. I call fighting for what I believe in, whether those battles are done with ideas or fists or suplexes and submissions. When you have ideals, Mileena, there’s nothing wrong with fighting for them.”
A small, wistful smile.
“But rest assured, when it comes down to it, I always take care of my business first and foremost. And tonight, Mileena Savage, you ARE my business. Whether you take this as a golden opportunity, or simply a chance to growl and cuss on camera and pull cheap stunts in the ring, or not even care at all… it means nothing to me. Because I’m here to do what I do every match before, or since, and that’s give everything I can and get the win.”
“I’m not the Pride of FFW. I’m not the Pride of America, or Ireland, or Indiana, or Indianapolis, or Pike Township, or even Wabash Circle. I’m just me… who I’ve always been, and who I always will continue to be. Somehone who has hopes and dreams. For herself, yes. But also for this entire sport as a whole. And you might not like it, Mileena Savage…”
“But you’re darn sure going to have to deal with it.”
Wendy turns and walks away, and the scene fades.
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