Post by Sara Garcia on Aug 14, 2017 3:28:57 GMT
So I’m headed over to the arena to go over some thing with the people in charge, and I thought it best to take this time to grab hold of a camera and aim it on myself, because let’s face it, when isn’t it a good time to do so?
No matter how many times I beat the drum, no matter how many times I tell you it isn’t true, then show you it isn’t true, the same old words pop out of your idiotic mouths week after week after week and quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing the ignorance. I’m sick of hearing that I’m in my sister’s shadow, because you know what!? MY SISTER ISN’T HERE! She’s healing. She wasn’t there when Pandora Freeman got beat by Rowan MacDonnough’s creepy ass. She wasn’t there when I ascended to the position I got to, claiming my spot in that match. No, she had her own business to take care of, and so did I.
I throw my hands in the air, clearly out of frustration.
And yes, I failed to become the Diamonds Champion at the Pay Per View, and no, it doesn’t feel good to be reminded of it daily by morons who only wish they were in my position. Idiots like Fiona McFly. Little Miss “I’m going to suck at singing because let’s face it, I can’t do a damn thing as a wrestler.” You stupid ignorant twit, the words that come out of your mouth hurt my brain so much that I literally want to walk down the hall of the hotel here in Moscow, knock on your door, kick you in the face, and leave. Week after week you spew the same crap and I know the world is sick of it, just like I’m sick of it.
Last year, at this very time, though none of you would notice because I was hiding in the overcasting shadow of my sister, I was in the Finals of this Heiress to the Throne Tournament. Me, the girl who had a little skill and a little knowledge of this business had a COMMANDING lead in the standings leading into the elimination round. It wasn’t my sister, it wasn’t Eternity, it wasn’t Fiona or Crystal or any of the other bubble-headed non-sense making bitches in the back...IT WAS ME!
So now what? What are the rest of you going to do now that I’ve been training for the last year, working my ass off time and time again to prove to myself, not you, that I’m worth every bit of touting that my sister receives? What are you going to do when I make one of you two tap out on Sacrifice, grabbing hold of some juicy points, cementing myself into the Heiress to the Throne standings? Are you going to be able to stop me from getting to where I got last year? Are you going to be able to stop me from surpassing last year with a superior knowledge of who and where I am?
I shake my head in disgust. I know the answer, and it’s time to project it onto the world.
ABSOLUTELY NOT!
I point into the camera.
Fiona, you talk about shadows, you’ve done it every single time you’ve faced me, and to tell you the truth, your ignorance has clearly made you blind for it isn’t me in the shadows...it’s you. You’re stuck in the shadow of the wrestlers who have walked through the doorway after you made your debut, have beaten you up, and passed you by; like my sister, like me, like all the rest. You express the loser mentality of “It’s not about winning, it’s about how you play the game.”, well honey, I hate to break it to you, that way of thinking, that gross, skewed mentality has gotten you nowhere and fast. People see your name across from them on the card and they smile. They know they’re going to win, and in this case, garner some points, and they know that they get to punch you in the face in the process.
It’s people like you Fiona who make me sick to my stomach, knowing that since you figured you just can’t cut it here, you’re going to go off on some other stupid venture and fail, just like you did here. Rather than stick it out, train, work hard, earn your spot, you’re content with letting people pass you by.
YOU’RE THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF ME!
I point to myself.
I won’t allow that to happen. I won’t sit idly by and watch others get better. I will get better. I won’t just get better than myself, I’ll get better than all of them, I’ll get better than Kat Conway, and I’ll damn sure get better than you.
I point into the camera again.
You made this challenge Fiona. You wanted the easy road to the Heiress to the Throne final brackets. You expected someone easy to answer your challenge, and when it was a real competitor, someone clearly better than you in every aspect of life, you got scared. You quivered, and you probably peed your pants. Then Kat Conway got involved and you tried to do what you always do...hide behind someone better...even if it’s marginally so.
The car stops and I get out, leaning up against the black exterior.
You tried your hardest to stack the deck in your favor Fiona, but like everything else in your life, you failed...miserably. Just like you’re going to fail when it comes to this Triple Threat at Sacrifice...just like you’ll fail at singing...because to put it bluntly...you suck at life.
I start to head toward the doors of the arena.
For now, I’m over this situation, but don’t worry Mrs. Conway...you’re next when I get out.
I push hit the close button on the phone, shutting down the video feed.
So the meeting was over, and I still had an opponent to dig my nails into. I still had a victim to verbally assault the likes of which she’s never been verbally assaulted before, and she goes by the name Kat Conway...aka, the Boss who tosses her weight around.
And then there’s you...the so-called purveyor of the Diamonds Division. You know, the one who thinks that because her husband is a gigantic dick for using his child to get to his end goals, she can use her powers in this division to do the same despite not having earned her spot for the longest of time. You know, the woman who thinks that every girl in this division is her little play toy to decorate with fake makeup and send about our merry ways.
Let me ask you something Kathleen...how does it feel to know you’re a talentless hack who has to use other means to get what you want, just like your husband? How does it feel to know you’re a pathetic washed-up shell of a woman whose only claim to fame is holding a Roulette Rake while her husband parades her around ringside as nothing more than a classy hooker, there for his advantages, because he sure as hell doesn’t care about yours.
But that’s another topic for a Maury show down the line.
I get to the car and wait for the door to be opened for me.
What I want to talk about today is the fact that you consider yourself so high and mighty that you think this is truly your division. I want to talk about the fact that you think you’re so powerful that you could actually try and derail the Garcia Brand. Well, newsflash sister, anyone can sit in your seat, and do your job. You’re nothing but a face Kat. You’re the idiotic monkey paraded in front of the masses, the puppet with a hand shoved up her sagging butt, doing what you’re told because once upon a time you were a name.
Want a reality check?
The star is fading, and it’s doing to at a rapid clip. Your name’s value is falling like the stock in Fiona’s singing career.
So what do you do?
You throw your name in the hat. You try to do what Jake couldn’t for the last two months. You want to make the name Conway mean something again, and you decided you were going to try and do so by winning the Heiress to the Throne.
The driver opens the door and allows me to get in before closing said door.
It’s truly noble Kat, really it is. You want to take this Women’s Empowerment angle in the world to a whole new level, well I hate to break it to you Goldilocks, the jobs been done. My sister took women’s empowerment to a level you could only hope to comprehend. I plan on taking over where she left off, and you guessed it, like you, I plan on doing so by winning the Heir to the Throne and bring the Diamonds Title back to the Garcia Brand. That happens at Fiona’s expense, and it happens at yours.
Your name will continue to plummet. There won’t be a single thing of value in the Conway home. You’ll be left broken and pathetic, just like you were before you got this oh so great epiphany, this allure of grandeur that you’ve concocted in your head.
I point into the camera.
Katherine, you say you’ve been the one giving out opportunity, one after another after another. You say that you could snatch it away if you wanted. Katherine...this is your chance to show that you’re not all talk like your husband. This is your chance to act upon these weak threats you shoot out sentence after sentence. You threaten to get into the business of the Garcias, you threaten to take away the opportunities afforded to us, not by you, but by our talents. Here’s your chance you bubble-headed buffoon. Get in the ring with me, try to take my opportunity from me with your bare hands and not the powers you wield as a former face. Make me happy, make me smile as I take you dreams and your illusions and I snatch them from the clouds you rest upon.
Fairytale land is gone Katherine. You and your white knight are no more...and I can’t wait to prove that to you on Sacrifice.
I can’t help but chuckle.
You said it was me and you that had a lot in common. You said you could relate to me. The sad part is...I think the fact that you and Fiona like to live in the realm of fairytales gives the two of you a hell of a lot more to talk about than you and I ever could have.
I’ll see you both at Sacrifice...and that’s where the fairytale gets turned to reality. That’s where I crush your dreams to fulfill my own. That’s where I show you there’s nothing that is more valuable than the Garcia Brand...and that it truly is...ALL ABOUT US!
I push the button again with my thumb and the feed ends.
No matter how many times I beat the drum, no matter how many times I tell you it isn’t true, then show you it isn’t true, the same old words pop out of your idiotic mouths week after week after week and quite frankly, I’m sick of hearing the ignorance. I’m sick of hearing that I’m in my sister’s shadow, because you know what!? MY SISTER ISN’T HERE! She’s healing. She wasn’t there when Pandora Freeman got beat by Rowan MacDonnough’s creepy ass. She wasn’t there when I ascended to the position I got to, claiming my spot in that match. No, she had her own business to take care of, and so did I.
I throw my hands in the air, clearly out of frustration.
And yes, I failed to become the Diamonds Champion at the Pay Per View, and no, it doesn’t feel good to be reminded of it daily by morons who only wish they were in my position. Idiots like Fiona McFly. Little Miss “I’m going to suck at singing because let’s face it, I can’t do a damn thing as a wrestler.” You stupid ignorant twit, the words that come out of your mouth hurt my brain so much that I literally want to walk down the hall of the hotel here in Moscow, knock on your door, kick you in the face, and leave. Week after week you spew the same crap and I know the world is sick of it, just like I’m sick of it.
Last year, at this very time, though none of you would notice because I was hiding in the overcasting shadow of my sister, I was in the Finals of this Heiress to the Throne Tournament. Me, the girl who had a little skill and a little knowledge of this business had a COMMANDING lead in the standings leading into the elimination round. It wasn’t my sister, it wasn’t Eternity, it wasn’t Fiona or Crystal or any of the other bubble-headed non-sense making bitches in the back...IT WAS ME!
So now what? What are the rest of you going to do now that I’ve been training for the last year, working my ass off time and time again to prove to myself, not you, that I’m worth every bit of touting that my sister receives? What are you going to do when I make one of you two tap out on Sacrifice, grabbing hold of some juicy points, cementing myself into the Heiress to the Throne standings? Are you going to be able to stop me from getting to where I got last year? Are you going to be able to stop me from surpassing last year with a superior knowledge of who and where I am?
I shake my head in disgust. I know the answer, and it’s time to project it onto the world.
ABSOLUTELY NOT!
I point into the camera.
Fiona, you talk about shadows, you’ve done it every single time you’ve faced me, and to tell you the truth, your ignorance has clearly made you blind for it isn’t me in the shadows...it’s you. You’re stuck in the shadow of the wrestlers who have walked through the doorway after you made your debut, have beaten you up, and passed you by; like my sister, like me, like all the rest. You express the loser mentality of “It’s not about winning, it’s about how you play the game.”, well honey, I hate to break it to you, that way of thinking, that gross, skewed mentality has gotten you nowhere and fast. People see your name across from them on the card and they smile. They know they’re going to win, and in this case, garner some points, and they know that they get to punch you in the face in the process.
It’s people like you Fiona who make me sick to my stomach, knowing that since you figured you just can’t cut it here, you’re going to go off on some other stupid venture and fail, just like you did here. Rather than stick it out, train, work hard, earn your spot, you’re content with letting people pass you by.
YOU’RE THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF ME!
I point to myself.
I won’t allow that to happen. I won’t sit idly by and watch others get better. I will get better. I won’t just get better than myself, I’ll get better than all of them, I’ll get better than Kat Conway, and I’ll damn sure get better than you.
I point into the camera again.
You made this challenge Fiona. You wanted the easy road to the Heiress to the Throne final brackets. You expected someone easy to answer your challenge, and when it was a real competitor, someone clearly better than you in every aspect of life, you got scared. You quivered, and you probably peed your pants. Then Kat Conway got involved and you tried to do what you always do...hide behind someone better...even if it’s marginally so.
The car stops and I get out, leaning up against the black exterior.
You tried your hardest to stack the deck in your favor Fiona, but like everything else in your life, you failed...miserably. Just like you’re going to fail when it comes to this Triple Threat at Sacrifice...just like you’ll fail at singing...because to put it bluntly...you suck at life.
I start to head toward the doors of the arena.
For now, I’m over this situation, but don’t worry Mrs. Conway...you’re next when I get out.
I push hit the close button on the phone, shutting down the video feed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Defeat”
”Defeat is only a word. Defeat was the beginning of a victory.”
July 30, 2017 - Lineage
I laid up against the barricade. My eyes glares up as I saw over the apron of the ring, Rowan MacDonnough celebrating her victory over then Diamonds Champion Pandora Freeman. I could take solace in the fact that I wasn’t the one who was pinned or submitted for the championship. I wasn’t the one taken down in the fall. That wasn’t the case though, for though I wasn’t the one who took the fall, I wasn’t the one who was holding the Diamonds Title in my arms. I held the back of my head and slowly started to roll to my feet, stabilizing myself with the barricade as I made my way to the back while Rowan continued to celebrate. Defeat left a bitter taste in my mouth, but in the end, I think it will be one of necessity.
I made my way to the back and to the trainer’s room I had left earlier. I was there with my sister who had just gone through hell against Alexis Caffrey in a Cage Match earlier in the night. I made my way down the hall and pushed into the Trainer’s Room, only to see she wasn’t there.
Sara Garcia: Where’s my sister?
Trainer: She wasn’t missing your match. She took the ice pack we gave her and headed for the locker room.
Sara Garcia: Thanks.
I walked out and turned toward the dressing room area. I had made it down about halfway when I saw my sister holding an ice pack to her face. She looked sad for me as she walked up to me and hugged me.
Paige Garcia: You should be so proud of yourself. That was a great match.
I nodded. It really was a good match to be a part of, and for me to notice the leaps and bounds I had taken to get here, it really was an accomplishment of itself...even if I didn’t win.
Sara Garcia: It was. Sucks I didn’t win though.
Paige Garcia: There’ll be chances. Hell, you should probably be one of the first in line considering it wasn’t you who took the fall.
Sara Garcia: Hopefully.
We headed back to the locker room and walked inside. I had a seat on the bench and started undoing the tape from my wrist. My sister sat beside me and looked at me with a look of confusion.
Paige Garcia: What’s wrong? You don’t seem nearly as devastated as I thought you’d be.
I tore off the last piece of tape from my wrist, balled it up and tossed it into the trash. I sighed deeply and rested my head back on one of the lockers.
Sara Garcia: That’s because I’m not really devastated.
I turned to her.
Sara Garcia: Don’t get me wrong, it absolutely sucks that I lost the match. This was just...I dunno...different. I felt comfortable, more so than at any other point in my career. I felt like I truly was an equal of the other women in that ring. I knew I made improvements over the last year, but to see that transpire out there, to feel that I was in a better place...it was...liberating.
I leaned forward while pulling the tape off of my other wrist.
Sara Garcia: To know I’ve worked my butt off and that it actually meant something feels so good inside, it’s practically indescribable. Then there’s losing…
Paige Garcia: Yeah, not a fan of losing.
Sara Garcia: I’m not either...but I feel like it’s one of those necessary evils in life. I now have this nasty, bitter taste in my mouth, and I know that I want to taste that as little as possible. It’s a driving factor, a motivational message to myself that’s only going to help me get better the next time I go out to that ring. It’s a learning experience, and unlike half the world, I have the intelligence to learn from my mistakes, and I plan on doing just that.
I pull off the tape and throw it away as I stand up to my feet, pointing out toward the ring area.
Sara Garcia: The next time I go out to that ring and fight for that title, I’ll be better than tonight, and maybe then...it’ll be enough.
My sister nods in approval as I start to unlace my boots as the scene fades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Defeat”
”Defeat is only a word. Defeat was the beginning of a victory.”
- Launa Rissadia
July 30, 2017 - Lineage
I laid up against the barricade. My eyes glares up as I saw over the apron of the ring, Rowan MacDonnough celebrating her victory over then Diamonds Champion Pandora Freeman. I could take solace in the fact that I wasn’t the one who was pinned or submitted for the championship. I wasn’t the one taken down in the fall. That wasn’t the case though, for though I wasn’t the one who took the fall, I wasn’t the one who was holding the Diamonds Title in my arms. I held the back of my head and slowly started to roll to my feet, stabilizing myself with the barricade as I made my way to the back while Rowan continued to celebrate. Defeat left a bitter taste in my mouth, but in the end, I think it will be one of necessity.
I made my way to the back and to the trainer’s room I had left earlier. I was there with my sister who had just gone through hell against Alexis Caffrey in a Cage Match earlier in the night. I made my way down the hall and pushed into the Trainer’s Room, only to see she wasn’t there.
Sara Garcia: Where’s my sister?
Trainer: She wasn’t missing your match. She took the ice pack we gave her and headed for the locker room.
Sara Garcia: Thanks.
I walked out and turned toward the dressing room area. I had made it down about halfway when I saw my sister holding an ice pack to her face. She looked sad for me as she walked up to me and hugged me.
Paige Garcia: You should be so proud of yourself. That was a great match.
I nodded. It really was a good match to be a part of, and for me to notice the leaps and bounds I had taken to get here, it really was an accomplishment of itself...even if I didn’t win.
Sara Garcia: It was. Sucks I didn’t win though.
Paige Garcia: There’ll be chances. Hell, you should probably be one of the first in line considering it wasn’t you who took the fall.
Sara Garcia: Hopefully.
We headed back to the locker room and walked inside. I had a seat on the bench and started undoing the tape from my wrist. My sister sat beside me and looked at me with a look of confusion.
Paige Garcia: What’s wrong? You don’t seem nearly as devastated as I thought you’d be.
I tore off the last piece of tape from my wrist, balled it up and tossed it into the trash. I sighed deeply and rested my head back on one of the lockers.
Sara Garcia: That’s because I’m not really devastated.
I turned to her.
Sara Garcia: Don’t get me wrong, it absolutely sucks that I lost the match. This was just...I dunno...different. I felt comfortable, more so than at any other point in my career. I felt like I truly was an equal of the other women in that ring. I knew I made improvements over the last year, but to see that transpire out there, to feel that I was in a better place...it was...liberating.
I leaned forward while pulling the tape off of my other wrist.
Sara Garcia: To know I’ve worked my butt off and that it actually meant something feels so good inside, it’s practically indescribable. Then there’s losing…
Paige Garcia: Yeah, not a fan of losing.
Sara Garcia: I’m not either...but I feel like it’s one of those necessary evils in life. I now have this nasty, bitter taste in my mouth, and I know that I want to taste that as little as possible. It’s a driving factor, a motivational message to myself that’s only going to help me get better the next time I go out to that ring. It’s a learning experience, and unlike half the world, I have the intelligence to learn from my mistakes, and I plan on doing just that.
I pull off the tape and throw it away as I stand up to my feet, pointing out toward the ring area.
Sara Garcia: The next time I go out to that ring and fight for that title, I’ll be better than tonight, and maybe then...it’ll be enough.
My sister nods in approval as I start to unlace my boots as the scene fades.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So the meeting was over, and I still had an opponent to dig my nails into. I still had a victim to verbally assault the likes of which she’s never been verbally assaulted before, and she goes by the name Kat Conway...aka, the Boss who tosses her weight around.
And then there’s you...the so-called purveyor of the Diamonds Division. You know, the one who thinks that because her husband is a gigantic dick for using his child to get to his end goals, she can use her powers in this division to do the same despite not having earned her spot for the longest of time. You know, the woman who thinks that every girl in this division is her little play toy to decorate with fake makeup and send about our merry ways.
Let me ask you something Kathleen...how does it feel to know you’re a talentless hack who has to use other means to get what you want, just like your husband? How does it feel to know you’re a pathetic washed-up shell of a woman whose only claim to fame is holding a Roulette Rake while her husband parades her around ringside as nothing more than a classy hooker, there for his advantages, because he sure as hell doesn’t care about yours.
But that’s another topic for a Maury show down the line.
I get to the car and wait for the door to be opened for me.
What I want to talk about today is the fact that you consider yourself so high and mighty that you think this is truly your division. I want to talk about the fact that you think you’re so powerful that you could actually try and derail the Garcia Brand. Well, newsflash sister, anyone can sit in your seat, and do your job. You’re nothing but a face Kat. You’re the idiotic monkey paraded in front of the masses, the puppet with a hand shoved up her sagging butt, doing what you’re told because once upon a time you were a name.
Want a reality check?
The star is fading, and it’s doing to at a rapid clip. Your name’s value is falling like the stock in Fiona’s singing career.
So what do you do?
You throw your name in the hat. You try to do what Jake couldn’t for the last two months. You want to make the name Conway mean something again, and you decided you were going to try and do so by winning the Heiress to the Throne.
The driver opens the door and allows me to get in before closing said door.
It’s truly noble Kat, really it is. You want to take this Women’s Empowerment angle in the world to a whole new level, well I hate to break it to you Goldilocks, the jobs been done. My sister took women’s empowerment to a level you could only hope to comprehend. I plan on taking over where she left off, and you guessed it, like you, I plan on doing so by winning the Heir to the Throne and bring the Diamonds Title back to the Garcia Brand. That happens at Fiona’s expense, and it happens at yours.
Your name will continue to plummet. There won’t be a single thing of value in the Conway home. You’ll be left broken and pathetic, just like you were before you got this oh so great epiphany, this allure of grandeur that you’ve concocted in your head.
I point into the camera.
Katherine, you say you’ve been the one giving out opportunity, one after another after another. You say that you could snatch it away if you wanted. Katherine...this is your chance to show that you’re not all talk like your husband. This is your chance to act upon these weak threats you shoot out sentence after sentence. You threaten to get into the business of the Garcias, you threaten to take away the opportunities afforded to us, not by you, but by our talents. Here’s your chance you bubble-headed buffoon. Get in the ring with me, try to take my opportunity from me with your bare hands and not the powers you wield as a former face. Make me happy, make me smile as I take you dreams and your illusions and I snatch them from the clouds you rest upon.
Fairytale land is gone Katherine. You and your white knight are no more...and I can’t wait to prove that to you on Sacrifice.
I can’t help but chuckle.
You said it was me and you that had a lot in common. You said you could relate to me. The sad part is...I think the fact that you and Fiona like to live in the realm of fairytales gives the two of you a hell of a lot more to talk about than you and I ever could have.
I’ll see you both at Sacrifice...and that’s where the fairytale gets turned to reality. That’s where I crush your dreams to fulfill my own. That’s where I show you there’s nothing that is more valuable than the Garcia Brand...and that it truly is...ALL ABOUT US!
I push the button again with my thumb and the feed ends.
Well howdy there pardner.