Post by Deleted on Mar 12, 2013 23:28:13 GMT -6
It’s often thrown out as an insult in our business. “Oh you’re a nobody.” But in the case of our current World Champ, it’s actually true. The man swears he doesn’t remember who he is. If you don’t know who you are, what you stand for, what your sins are... how the fuck can you be anything other than a nobody? A non-entity. How the fuck can you be Champ and lead a company? Granted, I'm no angel. But at least I'm a known quantity. You know what they say about the Devil you Know...
A black Escalade pulls up and comes to a stop in one of many abandoned industrial factory type areas in and around Chicago. The doors open and some Mexican men in suits step out, before they open on of the back doors and Valora steps out, her trademark smirk on her face.
Last time I was here, it was the end of Esteban. Now? I’m here to pay off my end of the deal. I got my contacts to help Judas Dathan get out of prison. But nothing is free. I should have qualms about this.. someone is about to die but, what can I say? Some people die, and some people live.
Valora walks into the main room where she’ll be working, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. In the center of the room a man in a tattered and worn business suits in a chair. Valora pulls up a chair and sits down across from the man, saying nothing. Just staring at him. After a few minutes, she nods and one of the men removes the gag on the man, who immediately looks to Valora. “P...Please! You have to help me! I..I have a wife and kids! You gotta get me out-” He’s cut off as Valora raises her hand, taking a deep breath.
“I’m going to save us both a bit of time here. Your tactic is totally dependent on me having compassion. I feel sorry for you, take pity on you.. and decide to help you. Its a good plan, I suppose, but unfortunately for you.. I’m not burdened by those particular human emotions. No pity, no remorse, no compassion. None of that. You’re just a sack of meat wrapped up in a fancy suit to me.”
Let that simmer in the man’s brain a bit. There he is, looking me in the eyes, that shocked look of disbelief. He looked for any hint of deception the way a drowning man clings for something, anything to keep afloat. God, watching the hope leave their eyes was almost as much fun as actually doing the deed. Almost.
Taking out a small folder, Valora opened and smiled. “Mr... Timothy White. Investment banker. You used to work on Wall Street, but moved out here to Chicago for a change of pace. Chronic Workaholic. Lemme guess. You started on speed first? Now, its cocaine and meth-amphetamines.. You ran up a nice bill with the cartel. To repay? You offered the launder money for them. So what happened? Decide to skim money off the top to buy drugs? To hide your habit from your family? You’re good with this sorta thing Timmy... you had to know sooner or later someone would find out what was going on...”
Timothy leaned forward, shaking his head. “No! I...Its like I tried to explain to... your friends here. Part of the operation I had going was I’d invest the money! Invest it, let it sit and collect returns and its all clean! But the economy is unstable! Honestly and truly! The money your umm... friends lost wasn’t stolen, it was lost in the market!!”
Valora smirks and takes in a deep breath before slowly cracking her neck. For NEW fans and Val’s victims outside the ring, it means nothing good is about to happen. The men with Valora grin a bit as Valora leans in and nods. “Heh.. oh Timmy... Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. You must think I’m as stupid as you look, right? Newsflash, Pendejo. I ain’t some dumb spic pulled off the street to do a day job. You obviously need motivation. Allow me to provide that. Would you like to know one of the reasons why you’ll find absolutely no fuckin’ pity from me? I stay a lot in hotels and such. My mom was forced to work in one... taking care of rich, arrogant pendejos like you who treated her like shit. Every fuckin’ time I go to a hotel, its the same fuckin’ thing. Mexican women forced to swallow their pride and tend to rich gringos like yourself. I’ll make a deal with you. I know you spent a few nights in a hotel here recently while trying to hide out from... my associates here. Tell me the name of the cute little Mexican girl from House keeping that got you settled in your room and took your towels and made your fuckin’ bed... give me her name... and I’ll let you walk out of here. No harm, no foul.”
He’ll fail. They always do. I almost forgot how much fun it is to play with these poor fucks.
Timothy closed his eyes. “Umm it was.. Martha... Maria... I..I dunno I mean they all look-”
Valora narrows her eyes. “That’s it. We all look alike to you, right? Well Timmy... I was pulling for you but... her name was, in fact, Anna. Anna Maria Desantes. Nice girl. She was quite helpful in helping track you down. Course she thought I was your personal assistant. Anyways... you won’t be leaving I’m afraid, but we have a nice consolation prize: One last chance. You give me the bank account that you dumped the cartel’s money into and... I will kill you quickly and painlessly. No fuss, no muss. Your family will also be spared. Force me to proceed and... you’ll die slowly. And painfully. You’ll still give me the bank account number and then I’ll kill your wife and your children... And uhh... my companions here... they love the chance to rape a rich gringa bitch... and they aren’t gentle. Trust me. I speak from experience.”
“They don’t know anything! My wife and children can’t lead you to the money!” Timothy cried out, leaning forward. Valora just shrugged. “Then you should be a man, do your family a solid and tell me where the money is.” Valora said as she looked Timothy over. She could already see the telltale signs. The man was sweating. His eyes were darting all over the room. Valora could see the man would not take the easy way. They never took the easy way, after all...
“L...Look... w..what if... What if I got you and your uh.. amigos here? What if I made you all rich? All you have to do is ummm forget you saw me?” Valora’s reply was simple. A snap of the fingers and the men around her went into action. Two of them dragged a table near Timothy and began the process of transferring the investment banker to said table, tying him down. A third man readied a hose and filled a bucket with water, bringing it and a wash rag over to the table. Valora sat there, calm. Cool. Collected as she glanced at the water bucket and smirked. “Know what the first thing I learned about drug addicts, Timmy? They’re like children. Compulsive liars. They will say anything, do anything to get their next hit. I’m sure with enough cocaine on the table... you’d tell me whatever the fuck I wanna know. Unfortunately for you, that isn’t an option. See... you owe a debt. Instead of paying that debt, you stole from the people you owed. I happen to owe a debt to the same people. UNLIKE you, however... I’m here. Paying that debt. Speaking of which... do you happen to be one of those people that doesn’t consider waterboarding torture?”
Timmy’s face goes white and and Valora reaches into her pocket and pulls out a voice recording, pushing the play button and Timothy and a co-worker are heard complaining about ‘bleeding heart liberals’ and both make the reference that waterboarding is fair game. Valora grins and stops the recording. “So its alright to piss on the little guy, but when you ARE the little guy, I’m supposed to show you compassion? Well look at it this way... least I’m not torturing you... right?” The conversation ends as Valora drapes the wash rag over his mouth and nose and picks up the bucket, slowly pouring the water over it. Timothy spasms and convulses against the ropes as his body tries to expel the water. After agonizing seconds, Valora sets the bucket down and the man goes about refilling it. Valora pulls the wash rag out of his mouth and the man chokes and gags, spitting up water, coughing as Valora nods and sits down. “You see Timmy... Trouble with waterboarding is... your body thinks its drowning. I know. I’ve been on both sides of this shit. What’s really sick? Waterboarding actually uses your body’s defenses and natural reactions against you to make it worse. Bet you’ve changed your mind on whether it’s torture or not, huh? Now... The account number. This is the last chance to save your wife and kids. After this... I stop playing nice. I got places to be and shit to do.”
Timothy spits water at Valora, missing her face but hitting her shirt. Valora glances down and stands up. “That supposed to make me angry? Kill you before I get the info? All it did was kill your wife and kids.” Valora as she lays out a knife and a box cutter, looking over the two for a second before picking up the box cutter, slowly extending the blade. “See this? You’re gonna wish I chose the knife, mother fucker. The straight razor here? Its surgical fuckin’ precision..” She says as she has her men strip the clothes off Timothy and cuts into the soft spot under the ribs on his left side, smirking as he cries out in pain... Tilting her head as she watches the blood flow before nodding and the waterboarding is repeated.. As the second session ends, she trails the blade down south, cutting his pants off, hovering the blade near his groin as she smiles. “What’s more important, gringo? Your money or your two best friends?”
It was so.... unfulfilling and anticlimactic when he broke down sobbing and gave me the account number. Oh well. At least they won’t find his body. Wood chippers really are amazing things. Makes disposing of a body so... neat and tidy and yet.. I fear it killed him too quickly. Oh well. The cartel got what they wanted. A dead druggie and his dead family, and their money back. I got what I wanted, a fun, if brief bit of playtime and repaid my own fuckin’ debt. I was in the clear. Free to get back to what really mattered to me at this point in my life.
The New Edge Wrestling World Title. I won’t lie. That belt is more important to me than my next breath. I needed that belt. More than anything. I had not forgotten the worlds that both Colt and Jesse Styles had chosen at Ignite. The words I would hang them both with...
We’ll start with Jesse both to stroke his ego and because he, while playing a big role in the current events, is not quite the main focus of this little battle.
So, yes. Jesse Styles. A man that hides behind lawyers to get his way. On the surface, to anyone watching the exchange he and I had, it would seem he really hates me. But I’ve studied the man. People have often asked about my meteoric rise in New Edge Wrestling. Jesse’s been accused of playing to the latino fan base. Trying to give them a star to rally around and there’s probably a bit of truth in that. Jesse is a smart businessman, after all. But no, Jesse likes guts and gusto. When I first got here, he threw me in 4 and 5 person cage matches with men 2, 3, 4 times my size and said “Good Luck.” I just smirked and said “Bring it on.” Yeah. I run my mouth. But I have the talent, the guts, and the experience to back up what the fuck I say. No. He doesn’t like Colt...
Still, The fact that he seems to like me doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what he said. First of all.. you bald headed, mook. It’s BARRIO. You redneck, gringo mother fuckers live in trailer parks. As for what I said to you? Heh. Cute. Like I haven’t heard that lame comeback before and, while I might not have a dick, I got bigger balls than anyone else in New Edge Wrestling. When you needed a ref for your skydiving match, who stepped up? Me. Who had the balls to throw Colt out of the plane even though, it meant throwing themselves out too? Me. Who cares so much about YOUR company and the World Title they’re willing to risk their fuckin’ career to get their hands on the damn thing? Me. How’s it feel that the fate of your company relies on either an amnesiac who whines when people step up to challenge him for his belt or... me. A Mexican woman from the barrio. Don’t worry, Jesse. I’ll give you what you want. A World Champion that will fight all comers and bring prestige back to the belt. A World Champion that can be the face of the company. A World Champion people can be proud of. In return? I’ll add to my legacy and show everyone why I am THE BEST fighter in the world today. Bar None.
Valora walked out while two of the men stayed behind to clean up. She idly rubbed her hands together. A half an hour later, she was in her favorite Mexican bar, taking a drink from a bottle of tequila. She was well aware of what fate was currently befalling Timothy’s wife and children and even aware of the fact that she could stop it, if she wished. But that would require her to care and right now, she cared about, was focused on, only one thing. The New Edge World Title.
Colt.. Be honest, what burns you up is that no one believes you deserved to be in the World Title race in the first place. I read the reviews of World War X. Everyone wanted Valora vs. Nocturnal for the World Title. Lock two psychos like Nocturnal and I in that plane? No one would be talking about any other match. Nocturnal was so sick at losing to... you, he went and walked away from the sport. Can’t say I blame him.
You’re good. Some degree of talent. Combat training ingrained in the mind. Whatever you WERE. You were a pro at it. But in the game of Pro Wrestling... you’re still the student. You make mistakes. The first of those mistakes was calling me out. The second of those mistakes was risking your World Title. The third? Whatever the fuck you did to piss Jesse off... Probably the shitty ratings and reviews of your match. Maybe it was the factor that you were essentially a non factor in the triple threat match
For some reason, people are intimidated of you. The amnesia thing, maybe... fuck if I know what else it would be. Me? You’re just another man. Just another victim about to step in the ring with me and about to lose a second title to me. That’s it.
Valora finished off her bottle of tequila and smirked. This match would see a first. Valora had never before taken on the Iron man match before. For a woman who had first made a name for herself in the world of hardcore, extreme wrestling and had made the Texas Death Match her specialty, the Iron Man match presented an interesting challenge. It and Colt were the only two obstacles of in the way of her ascension to World Champion. That pedestal that Valora needed to get to. Timothy was a physical drug addict. For Valora? The World Title was her drug. It had been what she set her eyes on since the first day in wrestling. In a world where being the best was measured by titles held and length of time as champ just as much as it was what you did as champ, Valora knew she had to get that belt. This was her best chance to do so...
Paying her tab, Valora walked out of the bar and to her Dodge Ram Pickup truck, looking around the relatively poor South Side neighborhood and got on her bike, letting out a sigh.
Jesse’s a smart man. He wants me as Champ... maybe as much as I wanna BE champ. Why? Simple. He saw the fan reaction when I beat Triple X. No one gave me a fuckin’ chance in that match and I beat him. I found a way to win. I also have a belief about titles he can market. I think the non-title match thing is bullshit. If you’re a champ, and you step in the ring to fight, your title is on the line... if you aren’t willing to risk your belt every fuckin’ time you have a match, you don’t deserve to be a champion. Its simple for Jesse really. Valora fuckin’ Salinas as World Champion makes him money. That’s why he’ll be glad when I beat Colt like he owes me money. Look on the upside, Colt. Least you HAD the belt for a time. Maybe you’ll get it back. But Ignite? Just not gonna be your night.
Valora took off and drove through the city of Chicago. Soon, she’d be setting out for the next Ignite in Cincinnati. But she had a bit of time yet... Time enough to enjoy a drive through Chicago and plan her next move...
A black Escalade pulls up and comes to a stop in one of many abandoned industrial factory type areas in and around Chicago. The doors open and some Mexican men in suits step out, before they open on of the back doors and Valora steps out, her trademark smirk on her face.
Last time I was here, it was the end of Esteban. Now? I’m here to pay off my end of the deal. I got my contacts to help Judas Dathan get out of prison. But nothing is free. I should have qualms about this.. someone is about to die but, what can I say? Some people die, and some people live.
Valora walks into the main room where she’ll be working, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. In the center of the room a man in a tattered and worn business suits in a chair. Valora pulls up a chair and sits down across from the man, saying nothing. Just staring at him. After a few minutes, she nods and one of the men removes the gag on the man, who immediately looks to Valora. “P...Please! You have to help me! I..I have a wife and kids! You gotta get me out-” He’s cut off as Valora raises her hand, taking a deep breath.
“I’m going to save us both a bit of time here. Your tactic is totally dependent on me having compassion. I feel sorry for you, take pity on you.. and decide to help you. Its a good plan, I suppose, but unfortunately for you.. I’m not burdened by those particular human emotions. No pity, no remorse, no compassion. None of that. You’re just a sack of meat wrapped up in a fancy suit to me.”
Let that simmer in the man’s brain a bit. There he is, looking me in the eyes, that shocked look of disbelief. He looked for any hint of deception the way a drowning man clings for something, anything to keep afloat. God, watching the hope leave their eyes was almost as much fun as actually doing the deed. Almost.
Taking out a small folder, Valora opened and smiled. “Mr... Timothy White. Investment banker. You used to work on Wall Street, but moved out here to Chicago for a change of pace. Chronic Workaholic. Lemme guess. You started on speed first? Now, its cocaine and meth-amphetamines.. You ran up a nice bill with the cartel. To repay? You offered the launder money for them. So what happened? Decide to skim money off the top to buy drugs? To hide your habit from your family? You’re good with this sorta thing Timmy... you had to know sooner or later someone would find out what was going on...”
Timothy leaned forward, shaking his head. “No! I...Its like I tried to explain to... your friends here. Part of the operation I had going was I’d invest the money! Invest it, let it sit and collect returns and its all clean! But the economy is unstable! Honestly and truly! The money your umm... friends lost wasn’t stolen, it was lost in the market!!”
Valora smirks and takes in a deep breath before slowly cracking her neck. For NEW fans and Val’s victims outside the ring, it means nothing good is about to happen. The men with Valora grin a bit as Valora leans in and nods. “Heh.. oh Timmy... Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. You must think I’m as stupid as you look, right? Newsflash, Pendejo. I ain’t some dumb spic pulled off the street to do a day job. You obviously need motivation. Allow me to provide that. Would you like to know one of the reasons why you’ll find absolutely no fuckin’ pity from me? I stay a lot in hotels and such. My mom was forced to work in one... taking care of rich, arrogant pendejos like you who treated her like shit. Every fuckin’ time I go to a hotel, its the same fuckin’ thing. Mexican women forced to swallow their pride and tend to rich gringos like yourself. I’ll make a deal with you. I know you spent a few nights in a hotel here recently while trying to hide out from... my associates here. Tell me the name of the cute little Mexican girl from House keeping that got you settled in your room and took your towels and made your fuckin’ bed... give me her name... and I’ll let you walk out of here. No harm, no foul.”
He’ll fail. They always do. I almost forgot how much fun it is to play with these poor fucks.
Timothy closed his eyes. “Umm it was.. Martha... Maria... I..I dunno I mean they all look-”
Valora narrows her eyes. “That’s it. We all look alike to you, right? Well Timmy... I was pulling for you but... her name was, in fact, Anna. Anna Maria Desantes. Nice girl. She was quite helpful in helping track you down. Course she thought I was your personal assistant. Anyways... you won’t be leaving I’m afraid, but we have a nice consolation prize: One last chance. You give me the bank account that you dumped the cartel’s money into and... I will kill you quickly and painlessly. No fuss, no muss. Your family will also be spared. Force me to proceed and... you’ll die slowly. And painfully. You’ll still give me the bank account number and then I’ll kill your wife and your children... And uhh... my companions here... they love the chance to rape a rich gringa bitch... and they aren’t gentle. Trust me. I speak from experience.”
“They don’t know anything! My wife and children can’t lead you to the money!” Timothy cried out, leaning forward. Valora just shrugged. “Then you should be a man, do your family a solid and tell me where the money is.” Valora said as she looked Timothy over. She could already see the telltale signs. The man was sweating. His eyes were darting all over the room. Valora could see the man would not take the easy way. They never took the easy way, after all...
“L...Look... w..what if... What if I got you and your uh.. amigos here? What if I made you all rich? All you have to do is ummm forget you saw me?” Valora’s reply was simple. A snap of the fingers and the men around her went into action. Two of them dragged a table near Timothy and began the process of transferring the investment banker to said table, tying him down. A third man readied a hose and filled a bucket with water, bringing it and a wash rag over to the table. Valora sat there, calm. Cool. Collected as she glanced at the water bucket and smirked. “Know what the first thing I learned about drug addicts, Timmy? They’re like children. Compulsive liars. They will say anything, do anything to get their next hit. I’m sure with enough cocaine on the table... you’d tell me whatever the fuck I wanna know. Unfortunately for you, that isn’t an option. See... you owe a debt. Instead of paying that debt, you stole from the people you owed. I happen to owe a debt to the same people. UNLIKE you, however... I’m here. Paying that debt. Speaking of which... do you happen to be one of those people that doesn’t consider waterboarding torture?”
Timmy’s face goes white and and Valora reaches into her pocket and pulls out a voice recording, pushing the play button and Timothy and a co-worker are heard complaining about ‘bleeding heart liberals’ and both make the reference that waterboarding is fair game. Valora grins and stops the recording. “So its alright to piss on the little guy, but when you ARE the little guy, I’m supposed to show you compassion? Well look at it this way... least I’m not torturing you... right?” The conversation ends as Valora drapes the wash rag over his mouth and nose and picks up the bucket, slowly pouring the water over it. Timothy spasms and convulses against the ropes as his body tries to expel the water. After agonizing seconds, Valora sets the bucket down and the man goes about refilling it. Valora pulls the wash rag out of his mouth and the man chokes and gags, spitting up water, coughing as Valora nods and sits down. “You see Timmy... Trouble with waterboarding is... your body thinks its drowning. I know. I’ve been on both sides of this shit. What’s really sick? Waterboarding actually uses your body’s defenses and natural reactions against you to make it worse. Bet you’ve changed your mind on whether it’s torture or not, huh? Now... The account number. This is the last chance to save your wife and kids. After this... I stop playing nice. I got places to be and shit to do.”
Timothy spits water at Valora, missing her face but hitting her shirt. Valora glances down and stands up. “That supposed to make me angry? Kill you before I get the info? All it did was kill your wife and kids.” Valora as she lays out a knife and a box cutter, looking over the two for a second before picking up the box cutter, slowly extending the blade. “See this? You’re gonna wish I chose the knife, mother fucker. The straight razor here? Its surgical fuckin’ precision..” She says as she has her men strip the clothes off Timothy and cuts into the soft spot under the ribs on his left side, smirking as he cries out in pain... Tilting her head as she watches the blood flow before nodding and the waterboarding is repeated.. As the second session ends, she trails the blade down south, cutting his pants off, hovering the blade near his groin as she smiles. “What’s more important, gringo? Your money or your two best friends?”
It was so.... unfulfilling and anticlimactic when he broke down sobbing and gave me the account number. Oh well. At least they won’t find his body. Wood chippers really are amazing things. Makes disposing of a body so... neat and tidy and yet.. I fear it killed him too quickly. Oh well. The cartel got what they wanted. A dead druggie and his dead family, and their money back. I got what I wanted, a fun, if brief bit of playtime and repaid my own fuckin’ debt. I was in the clear. Free to get back to what really mattered to me at this point in my life.
The New Edge Wrestling World Title. I won’t lie. That belt is more important to me than my next breath. I needed that belt. More than anything. I had not forgotten the worlds that both Colt and Jesse Styles had chosen at Ignite. The words I would hang them both with...
We’ll start with Jesse both to stroke his ego and because he, while playing a big role in the current events, is not quite the main focus of this little battle.
So, yes. Jesse Styles. A man that hides behind lawyers to get his way. On the surface, to anyone watching the exchange he and I had, it would seem he really hates me. But I’ve studied the man. People have often asked about my meteoric rise in New Edge Wrestling. Jesse’s been accused of playing to the latino fan base. Trying to give them a star to rally around and there’s probably a bit of truth in that. Jesse is a smart businessman, after all. But no, Jesse likes guts and gusto. When I first got here, he threw me in 4 and 5 person cage matches with men 2, 3, 4 times my size and said “Good Luck.” I just smirked and said “Bring it on.” Yeah. I run my mouth. But I have the talent, the guts, and the experience to back up what the fuck I say. No. He doesn’t like Colt...
Still, The fact that he seems to like me doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten what he said. First of all.. you bald headed, mook. It’s BARRIO. You redneck, gringo mother fuckers live in trailer parks. As for what I said to you? Heh. Cute. Like I haven’t heard that lame comeback before and, while I might not have a dick, I got bigger balls than anyone else in New Edge Wrestling. When you needed a ref for your skydiving match, who stepped up? Me. Who had the balls to throw Colt out of the plane even though, it meant throwing themselves out too? Me. Who cares so much about YOUR company and the World Title they’re willing to risk their fuckin’ career to get their hands on the damn thing? Me. How’s it feel that the fate of your company relies on either an amnesiac who whines when people step up to challenge him for his belt or... me. A Mexican woman from the barrio. Don’t worry, Jesse. I’ll give you what you want. A World Champion that will fight all comers and bring prestige back to the belt. A World Champion that can be the face of the company. A World Champion people can be proud of. In return? I’ll add to my legacy and show everyone why I am THE BEST fighter in the world today. Bar None.
Valora walked out while two of the men stayed behind to clean up. She idly rubbed her hands together. A half an hour later, she was in her favorite Mexican bar, taking a drink from a bottle of tequila. She was well aware of what fate was currently befalling Timothy’s wife and children and even aware of the fact that she could stop it, if she wished. But that would require her to care and right now, she cared about, was focused on, only one thing. The New Edge World Title.
Colt.. Be honest, what burns you up is that no one believes you deserved to be in the World Title race in the first place. I read the reviews of World War X. Everyone wanted Valora vs. Nocturnal for the World Title. Lock two psychos like Nocturnal and I in that plane? No one would be talking about any other match. Nocturnal was so sick at losing to... you, he went and walked away from the sport. Can’t say I blame him.
You’re good. Some degree of talent. Combat training ingrained in the mind. Whatever you WERE. You were a pro at it. But in the game of Pro Wrestling... you’re still the student. You make mistakes. The first of those mistakes was calling me out. The second of those mistakes was risking your World Title. The third? Whatever the fuck you did to piss Jesse off... Probably the shitty ratings and reviews of your match. Maybe it was the factor that you were essentially a non factor in the triple threat match
For some reason, people are intimidated of you. The amnesia thing, maybe... fuck if I know what else it would be. Me? You’re just another man. Just another victim about to step in the ring with me and about to lose a second title to me. That’s it.
Valora finished off her bottle of tequila and smirked. This match would see a first. Valora had never before taken on the Iron man match before. For a woman who had first made a name for herself in the world of hardcore, extreme wrestling and had made the Texas Death Match her specialty, the Iron Man match presented an interesting challenge. It and Colt were the only two obstacles of in the way of her ascension to World Champion. That pedestal that Valora needed to get to. Timothy was a physical drug addict. For Valora? The World Title was her drug. It had been what she set her eyes on since the first day in wrestling. In a world where being the best was measured by titles held and length of time as champ just as much as it was what you did as champ, Valora knew she had to get that belt. This was her best chance to do so...
Paying her tab, Valora walked out of the bar and to her Dodge Ram Pickup truck, looking around the relatively poor South Side neighborhood and got on her bike, letting out a sigh.
Jesse’s a smart man. He wants me as Champ... maybe as much as I wanna BE champ. Why? Simple. He saw the fan reaction when I beat Triple X. No one gave me a fuckin’ chance in that match and I beat him. I found a way to win. I also have a belief about titles he can market. I think the non-title match thing is bullshit. If you’re a champ, and you step in the ring to fight, your title is on the line... if you aren’t willing to risk your belt every fuckin’ time you have a match, you don’t deserve to be a champion. Its simple for Jesse really. Valora fuckin’ Salinas as World Champion makes him money. That’s why he’ll be glad when I beat Colt like he owes me money. Look on the upside, Colt. Least you HAD the belt for a time. Maybe you’ll get it back. But Ignite? Just not gonna be your night.
Valora took off and drove through the city of Chicago. Soon, she’d be setting out for the next Ignite in Cincinnati. But she had a bit of time yet... Time enough to enjoy a drive through Chicago and plan her next move...