Post by Deleted on Mar 21, 2013 1:41:23 GMT -6
‘You dream of Trading Places,
I have been Changing Faces,
You can not fill these shoes,
There is too much to lose.
Wake up behind these trenches,
You run around defenseless,
There is too much to lose,
You can not fill these shoes.
I Just wanna be famous...
But Be Careful what you wish for!’
-Excerpt from ‘Almost Famous by Eminem
Ignite 148 Cincinnati, Ohio:
Valora stumbled back into her corner. Blood was pouring into her eye, but she wasn’t sure if that was the red she was seeing.. It continued flowing and as it reached her mouth, Valora licked the blood and made a mental note that Corona + Blood = Tasty. She was putting on a strong front but Valora couldn’t fight simple physiology. Valora was only 5’5 and 145lbs. Colt had more blood than she did and as she stood up for the second half of the match, she felt a bit light headed and felt her knees weaken slightly. Wiping the blood from her eyes, Valora took a deep breath and let it out. She had made a name in this shit. As much as she hurt, she was turned on and excited. She was about to beat a gringo to death. It was gonna be fuckin’ biblical.
Or it would have been if Jim Floss hadn’t taken that fuckin’ boot from me..
As the match nears its end, Valora and Colt get the same idea and headbutt each other, both fighters’ bodies giving out and dropping them at the same time...
And... here’s where the Gringo fucks me over. Colt’s hand slipped off me. My hand stayed on him. But God forbid we have a Mexican Champion... so I get fucked over. Jim Floss will pay for that... Oh yes... he will pay.
Los Angeles, California:
Valora sat in the dark of the gym run by Hector Hernandez, the same gym in the neighborhood she grew up in. In front of her sits her New Edge contract. There’s perhaps no better metaphor for the doubt creeping into the Hardcore Icon’s mind than the darkness that surrounds her now. Valora. Sentenced to her own private hell, facing the toughest opponent any warrior can face. Self-Doubt.
Alone. This is how it goes in our world. When you win, you got more friends than you can count. Lose the big match and everyone loses your fuckin’ number. Now... what to fuckin’ do about this piece of shit... Do I follow through with my contract, whether it ends at Kamikaze or Justice? Or do I tell Jesse to go fuck himself and tell him if he wants, he can sue my latina ass for breach of contract?
The money doesn’t enter into it... its basically a case of if I want to end my career. Fuck... maybe its time. I remember sitting in that bar in Cleveland, talking with Umbrage. Listening to him tell me he was done. I couldn’t understand that. As much as I respected him, part of me resented him. It was what he had taught me, after all. Sense weakness and attack it. But now I know it wasn’t weakness. It was simply the innate knowledge that his time was done. But what about me? Is my time up already? Am I done so soon?
Valora sits, lost in her thoughts as she takes a drink of her tequila and closes her eyes. When she opens her eyes, they’re still focused on her copy of her New Edge Wrestling contract.
So, Jesse. You have chosen the way of pain.
Ignorance. It surrounds me, This company, this country, this planet. A disease, slowly choking the life out of everything it touches. Ignorance is dangerous. Combine with it with arrogance, though, and it becomes deadly. Ignorance and arrogance, Jesse Styles has both in spades. He signed a death warrant, this past Ignite. Mine, his. New Edge’s. Time will tell. But one thing is certain...
The events that went down this past Ignite demand a response.
Valora’s phone beeps and she gets up and listens to the episode of NEW Radio. At the beginning, when Kronin defends her, Valora smirks, trying hard not to laugh.
Kronin forced to back me? Bet that had to hurt, huh? You fuckin’ kraut bitch.
Valora listens to the full radio show and smirks, turning her Samsung Galaxy off and shakes her head. Egos. Everyone shouting for their three seconds of fame to stroke their own damn egos... yet everyone accuses Valora of being the attention whore. The thought makes Valora laugh at the same time it makes her blood boil. Tucking her contract in her back pocket, she walks through the gym, stopping at a particular punching bag. Valora smiles as she can almost see Hector working with a scared, young girl, tired of being beat up and began her training. As she allows herself to get lost in her memories, she tilts her head a bit.
Jesse thinks he’s smart. I you look at any one event, the puzzle doesn’t make sense. But take a step back and look at the whole picture. See everything that happened and you find the pieces of the puzzle fit together much better. Jesse Styles doesn’t want me as World Champ. At least not yet. No. He’s trying to out hustle a hustler. Jesse Styles wants Valora in his mafia. He knows I have a temper. He played on that and, I let him get under my skin. I let him take my eyes away from the prize. That’s what Jesse was hoping for. Now, the second part will come soon. He knows I want that belt more than anything. Now comes the question. Will I sell my soul to get that belt?
Valora walks out onto the roof of the gym, looking out at the Barrio of South Central LA she grew up in. As she looks, she clenches her fist.
God damn you, Hector. Vanessa. I shouldn’t care about these fuckers. No one was there to help me the fuck out. Why do I have to be the heroine? The Role Model? What the fuck kinda role model am I? An alcoholic, sociopathic killer. I tried to be the heroine. I failed. Why?! Why do these fucking ingrates keep looking to me?! WHY ME?!
“You see many other Mexican wrestlers in your position, you selfish bitch?!”
Valora turns in surprise and blinks, seeing.... herself standing there. This Valora is decked out in the uniform of the Mexican Federal Police. Valora smirks and points to the barrio behind her. “Look at them. Always waiting for someone to save them. Just like in Mexico. An abattoir of retarded fuckin’ children, constantly, asking me to save them! Why shouldn’t I just look down and say No.?”
The Valora in the Mexican Federal Police uniform smirks and nods. “Well... you’ve been fighting for yourself so far... how’s that worked out for you so far? Fighting just to win a belt ain’t gonna get you where you wanna be. Those people are going to idolize you pretty much no matter what you do.Like it or not, the role of heroine has been given to you. What you do with that mantle is up to you. Rise to the challenge, or go down whining and crying. The choice is yours.” Valora blinked and the police version of her was gone and she glanced to the barrio, sighing.
....Fuck me. She...I guess....I’m right. Apathy is right. I need more than the need for the belt to push me further. But I’ve fought for my people before. What has that gotten me? This will take thought.
Valora’s thoughts are interrupted by her phone ringing. Taking it out, she frowns and answers the skype call. “Jesse fuckin’ Styles. Hope you ain’t callin’ me for congratulations....” Jesse smirks on the webcam call and shrugs. “That’s your problem, Val... you run that mouth before you think. Watch Kronin. Keep on disrespecting me and I can destroy you like I did him.”
“Speaking of destroying people. Jim Fuckin’ Floss. Fuckin’ gringo screwed me over. You got a plan to fix that? Cause I do.” Jesse grins again and nods. “Screwed? Aren’t you used to that by now? I mean you run with Apathy after all.. As for Floss... I have a plan for that, but do tell. I wanna hear your plan first.” Valora narrowed her eyes as she stared into Jesse’s. “Fix it. Or I take Jim Floss out. After that, I begin taking members of the New Edge Wrestling roster out until you give me my belt. Won’t let me leave early? Fuck me over in the match to push yourself? I’ll hit you where it hurts. Your ratings. Your pocket book. You wanna play? I play just as dirty as you do.”
Jesse narrows his eyes as well. “I give less than a fuck what happens to Floss. The other part? Well... its your funeral if you wanna do that. Or in so doing, you might boost my ratings. Either way... doesn’t bother me. Here’s my plan: I saw the video and yes.. you did get fucked over. I need a match for the last spot in Terrordome. Think you can beat Molly Mayhem and Orlando Ocean to get into a match custom made for someone called the ‘Hardcore Icon’? Win Terrordome and you get a World Title shot at Justice. I like you, Valora. learn to keep that mouth shut and there might be other opportunities for you..”
The call ended and Valora gritted her teeth as she resists the urge to see how far she can throw her phone.
Orlando Ocean. A rookie. Already choked once in this terrordome qualifying match. So he’s got a second chance. If the man had any modicum of talent, I’d be afraid.. but he just can’t compete with me, period. Molly Mayhem? The so called Mistress of Mayhem.. hiding out with what’s left of Unstable. Like Orlando Ocean, she’s also lost once already. Put her ass in the ring with me and I’ll give the gringa puta a lesson in mayhem. I told Jesse I would begin thinning out the NEW Roster. He responds by giving me my first two victims. Fun times and Orlando and Molly better be ready. They’ve got one pissed bitch in Pittsburgh. I have no choice here... I need to win to get back in the hunt for the World Title. So, win I will.
Valora looks out over the barrio one more time before leaving and returning to the gym, looking around the dark and sighing. Bravado aside, the doubt is still there. Valora needs to win this match for more than a chance to get back into the World Title picture. She needs to prove to herself that she can still do this. That she’s not done. That she is, in fact, approaching the prime of her career, not the twilight. Valora smirks and narrows her eyes as she plays ‘Almost Famous’ by Eminem and begins training and preparing to unleash her own special brand of violence. Almost Famous. A perfect song for Valora. Soon, Val will remove the ‘almost’ from the description as it applies to her.
I have been Changing Faces,
You can not fill these shoes,
There is too much to lose.
Wake up behind these trenches,
You run around defenseless,
There is too much to lose,
You can not fill these shoes.
I Just wanna be famous...
But Be Careful what you wish for!’
-Excerpt from ‘Almost Famous by Eminem
Ignite 148 Cincinnati, Ohio:
Valora stumbled back into her corner. Blood was pouring into her eye, but she wasn’t sure if that was the red she was seeing.. It continued flowing and as it reached her mouth, Valora licked the blood and made a mental note that Corona + Blood = Tasty. She was putting on a strong front but Valora couldn’t fight simple physiology. Valora was only 5’5 and 145lbs. Colt had more blood than she did and as she stood up for the second half of the match, she felt a bit light headed and felt her knees weaken slightly. Wiping the blood from her eyes, Valora took a deep breath and let it out. She had made a name in this shit. As much as she hurt, she was turned on and excited. She was about to beat a gringo to death. It was gonna be fuckin’ biblical.
Or it would have been if Jim Floss hadn’t taken that fuckin’ boot from me..
As the match nears its end, Valora and Colt get the same idea and headbutt each other, both fighters’ bodies giving out and dropping them at the same time...
And... here’s where the Gringo fucks me over. Colt’s hand slipped off me. My hand stayed on him. But God forbid we have a Mexican Champion... so I get fucked over. Jim Floss will pay for that... Oh yes... he will pay.
Los Angeles, California:
Valora sat in the dark of the gym run by Hector Hernandez, the same gym in the neighborhood she grew up in. In front of her sits her New Edge contract. There’s perhaps no better metaphor for the doubt creeping into the Hardcore Icon’s mind than the darkness that surrounds her now. Valora. Sentenced to her own private hell, facing the toughest opponent any warrior can face. Self-Doubt.
Alone. This is how it goes in our world. When you win, you got more friends than you can count. Lose the big match and everyone loses your fuckin’ number. Now... what to fuckin’ do about this piece of shit... Do I follow through with my contract, whether it ends at Kamikaze or Justice? Or do I tell Jesse to go fuck himself and tell him if he wants, he can sue my latina ass for breach of contract?
The money doesn’t enter into it... its basically a case of if I want to end my career. Fuck... maybe its time. I remember sitting in that bar in Cleveland, talking with Umbrage. Listening to him tell me he was done. I couldn’t understand that. As much as I respected him, part of me resented him. It was what he had taught me, after all. Sense weakness and attack it. But now I know it wasn’t weakness. It was simply the innate knowledge that his time was done. But what about me? Is my time up already? Am I done so soon?
Valora sits, lost in her thoughts as she takes a drink of her tequila and closes her eyes. When she opens her eyes, they’re still focused on her copy of her New Edge Wrestling contract.
So, Jesse. You have chosen the way of pain.
Ignorance. It surrounds me, This company, this country, this planet. A disease, slowly choking the life out of everything it touches. Ignorance is dangerous. Combine with it with arrogance, though, and it becomes deadly. Ignorance and arrogance, Jesse Styles has both in spades. He signed a death warrant, this past Ignite. Mine, his. New Edge’s. Time will tell. But one thing is certain...
The events that went down this past Ignite demand a response.
Valora’s phone beeps and she gets up and listens to the episode of NEW Radio. At the beginning, when Kronin defends her, Valora smirks, trying hard not to laugh.
Kronin forced to back me? Bet that had to hurt, huh? You fuckin’ kraut bitch.
Valora listens to the full radio show and smirks, turning her Samsung Galaxy off and shakes her head. Egos. Everyone shouting for their three seconds of fame to stroke their own damn egos... yet everyone accuses Valora of being the attention whore. The thought makes Valora laugh at the same time it makes her blood boil. Tucking her contract in her back pocket, she walks through the gym, stopping at a particular punching bag. Valora smiles as she can almost see Hector working with a scared, young girl, tired of being beat up and began her training. As she allows herself to get lost in her memories, she tilts her head a bit.
Jesse thinks he’s smart. I you look at any one event, the puzzle doesn’t make sense. But take a step back and look at the whole picture. See everything that happened and you find the pieces of the puzzle fit together much better. Jesse Styles doesn’t want me as World Champ. At least not yet. No. He’s trying to out hustle a hustler. Jesse Styles wants Valora in his mafia. He knows I have a temper. He played on that and, I let him get under my skin. I let him take my eyes away from the prize. That’s what Jesse was hoping for. Now, the second part will come soon. He knows I want that belt more than anything. Now comes the question. Will I sell my soul to get that belt?
Valora walks out onto the roof of the gym, looking out at the Barrio of South Central LA she grew up in. As she looks, she clenches her fist.
God damn you, Hector. Vanessa. I shouldn’t care about these fuckers. No one was there to help me the fuck out. Why do I have to be the heroine? The Role Model? What the fuck kinda role model am I? An alcoholic, sociopathic killer. I tried to be the heroine. I failed. Why?! Why do these fucking ingrates keep looking to me?! WHY ME?!
“You see many other Mexican wrestlers in your position, you selfish bitch?!”
Valora turns in surprise and blinks, seeing.... herself standing there. This Valora is decked out in the uniform of the Mexican Federal Police. Valora smirks and points to the barrio behind her. “Look at them. Always waiting for someone to save them. Just like in Mexico. An abattoir of retarded fuckin’ children, constantly, asking me to save them! Why shouldn’t I just look down and say No.?”
The Valora in the Mexican Federal Police uniform smirks and nods. “Well... you’ve been fighting for yourself so far... how’s that worked out for you so far? Fighting just to win a belt ain’t gonna get you where you wanna be. Those people are going to idolize you pretty much no matter what you do.Like it or not, the role of heroine has been given to you. What you do with that mantle is up to you. Rise to the challenge, or go down whining and crying. The choice is yours.” Valora blinked and the police version of her was gone and she glanced to the barrio, sighing.
....Fuck me. She...I guess....I’m right. Apathy is right. I need more than the need for the belt to push me further. But I’ve fought for my people before. What has that gotten me? This will take thought.
Valora’s thoughts are interrupted by her phone ringing. Taking it out, she frowns and answers the skype call. “Jesse fuckin’ Styles. Hope you ain’t callin’ me for congratulations....” Jesse smirks on the webcam call and shrugs. “That’s your problem, Val... you run that mouth before you think. Watch Kronin. Keep on disrespecting me and I can destroy you like I did him.”
“Speaking of destroying people. Jim Fuckin’ Floss. Fuckin’ gringo screwed me over. You got a plan to fix that? Cause I do.” Jesse grins again and nods. “Screwed? Aren’t you used to that by now? I mean you run with Apathy after all.. As for Floss... I have a plan for that, but do tell. I wanna hear your plan first.” Valora narrowed her eyes as she stared into Jesse’s. “Fix it. Or I take Jim Floss out. After that, I begin taking members of the New Edge Wrestling roster out until you give me my belt. Won’t let me leave early? Fuck me over in the match to push yourself? I’ll hit you where it hurts. Your ratings. Your pocket book. You wanna play? I play just as dirty as you do.”
Jesse narrows his eyes as well. “I give less than a fuck what happens to Floss. The other part? Well... its your funeral if you wanna do that. Or in so doing, you might boost my ratings. Either way... doesn’t bother me. Here’s my plan: I saw the video and yes.. you did get fucked over. I need a match for the last spot in Terrordome. Think you can beat Molly Mayhem and Orlando Ocean to get into a match custom made for someone called the ‘Hardcore Icon’? Win Terrordome and you get a World Title shot at Justice. I like you, Valora. learn to keep that mouth shut and there might be other opportunities for you..”
The call ended and Valora gritted her teeth as she resists the urge to see how far she can throw her phone.
Orlando Ocean. A rookie. Already choked once in this terrordome qualifying match. So he’s got a second chance. If the man had any modicum of talent, I’d be afraid.. but he just can’t compete with me, period. Molly Mayhem? The so called Mistress of Mayhem.. hiding out with what’s left of Unstable. Like Orlando Ocean, she’s also lost once already. Put her ass in the ring with me and I’ll give the gringa puta a lesson in mayhem. I told Jesse I would begin thinning out the NEW Roster. He responds by giving me my first two victims. Fun times and Orlando and Molly better be ready. They’ve got one pissed bitch in Pittsburgh. I have no choice here... I need to win to get back in the hunt for the World Title. So, win I will.
Valora looks out over the barrio one more time before leaving and returning to the gym, looking around the dark and sighing. Bravado aside, the doubt is still there. Valora needs to win this match for more than a chance to get back into the World Title picture. She needs to prove to herself that she can still do this. That she’s not done. That she is, in fact, approaching the prime of her career, not the twilight. Valora smirks and narrows her eyes as she plays ‘Almost Famous’ by Eminem and begins training and preparing to unleash her own special brand of violence. Almost Famous. A perfect song for Valora. Soon, Val will remove the ‘almost’ from the description as it applies to her.