Post by Mercedes Vargas on Dec 21, 2014 6:50:42 GMT
Variety, they say, is the spice of life. Dare to be different. Changing things up once in a while and trying new things can't be that bad. Unless, of course, it is. Maybe that's why people are comfortable staying in their comfort zone. It doesn't mean you're stagnant...you can still change and try out new things just the same.
«Open on a close-up shot of a glass of orange juice next to a bowl of cereal. A female hand reaches for the glass and when placed back on the table, it's now half full. Pull back slightly to see that it's Mercedes in her bathrobe and eating breakfast while reading the newspaper.»
For as long as I can remember, I've always stuck to my usual routine. Each morning starts with checking my cell for e-mails and tweets, catching up on the latest celebrity gossip, finishing the New York Times Sunday crossword, and then a five-mile run. Sometimes these are not in the same order. But before I carpe diem, I always made time for one of my favorite activities...
«She spreads the lifestyle section of the newspaper on the table and a closeup shot revealing the horoscope page.»
Reading my horoscopes...
.::MERCEDES::..
“There's no time like the present, so have that unsightly growth removed. Stay home and rest. Your next Career: Square Dance Caller. You'll throw out your back eating a taco this week.”
«She shrugs and smiles, silently mouthing wow while shaking her head.»
Not that I'm necessarily hooked on horoscopes, mind you, but it is tempting. About as tempting as a heroin addict who can't stay off the street corner. Why do we plan our lives around some detailed forecast of our futures or our love life based around the stars when we can take charge of our lives and make mistakes? Isn't that how we learn?
.::MERCEDES::..
You won't have enough to cover your tab. Wear running shoes. You will scratch yourself at the absolute wrong time. You need to spend some time thinking about your future. That favorite coworker of yours secretly hates you.
Wow, that was...interesting. But as far as horoscopes go, I have a feeling none of those things have or will happen to me this week. But you know what they say: Everything is funny, as long as it happens to someone else.
«Mercedes raises her head and turns in the direction of her door. There is an argument coming from the apartment across the hall.»
Vickie: Jack, can you do the dishes tonight? I'm very tired.
Jack: Can't we just put them in the dishwasher? I've had a very bad day, too! I just want to kick back and relax and watch the big game. Damn!
Ah, the Emersons. Newlyweds who just moved in about two months ago.
Vickie: Excuse me? Just because you had a bad day doesn't give you permission to take it out on me!
Jack: Yeah? Well, you try having to walk in running shoes because you couldn't pay your bar tab! Just leave me alone!
For a couple celebrating six months, they also like to argue...a lot.
Vickie: Boo fucking hoo! Try throwing out your back this week eating a taco and then getting an unsightly growth removed and ordered to three weeks' bed rest!
Jack: Maybe that's a blessing in disguise. We all know Katelyn secretly hates you. Now she's got a better reason to win Employee of the Month at Macy's!
And here I was thinking today was going to be different. So much for that.
Vickie: Why are you being such a jackass? I wish I never got married!
Jack: That makes two of us! I'm outta here!
«Mercedes cringes at the sound of dishes thrown across the wall followed by the loud slam of the front door.»
At least I won my personal bet. Vickie has already destroyed 1200 dollars worth of fine China. I had over 1130. All seems quiet on the Western front, though something tells me Jack Emerson won't be coming back anytime soon. Supposedly, he's going to see a certain Employee of the Month.
«Her hand glides across to grab her drink and she takes a slow sip from her glass.»
But that's none of my business.
«Fade.»
_______≈₪≈______
..::PROLOGUE::..
Oops, I did it again.
And here I was thinking my irrelevant opinion would be ignored.
Well, it was mostly.
Or was it?
As it turns out, it stirred up quite a hornet's nest, which wasn't my intention at all. This has more to do with who I am than being held to a double standard.
People want to label me as a head case, that's fine. I've long since said that I don't have time to worry about what people say or think about me. If they don't like what I have to say, then guess who has to just deal? Here's a hint, it's not me.
Some may say my words rubbed people the wrong way. It got under their skin, got them hot and bothered, made them a little uncomfortable. Some probably didn't bat an eye. Didn't mean it stirred up a little controversy, which is a lot more that I can say about my title reign. And speaking of, first off, I was forced to cash in my title, against my will. Only two people in the history of the Ruby Championship has never been defeated during their reign – Ana Valentine, and yours truly. Really, they say that I had little competition, that I barely defended my title? Fair point, but that's not entirely my fault, now is it? Maybe I should look through my contract again. If I'm lucky, I just might find some small print that says I book my own matches, no?
You know who else barely defended their titles? Try these names on for size: How about Eternity, how about the Brothers Black, huh? In fact, last time Franklin and Eduardo defended those titles, IWF still had another wrestling show on Thursday nights.
Last Rites 2014 was seven months ago, all right? Their second reign happened the same night I won the Ruby Championship on St. Patrick's Day. So don't tell me that I barely defended my title when we got all of this going on. This goes back to what I was saying that night in Madison Square Garden. People barely defended their titles. Especially the tag titles. I mean, do we even have tag teams anymore? Whatever happened to the intergender tag team division, hmm?
And it's not like I was ducking challenges, I practically begged anyone to face me, but no one wanted to play ball. So ask yourselves, is this really my fault, or is this really management's? I'll say this, it's about time they got their act together with this new wave of talent coming in because, let's face it, this was loooooong overdue.
Wait, I bet you're holding out hope that you're expecting a sympathy card from me for the holidays. I hope you're not holding your breath.
Guess that means I'm going to be crossed off a lot of people's Christmas lists.
I meant every word of what I said at Survival of the Fittest.
Don't blame me for saying what everyone was thinking.
_______≈₪≈______
Sleepless nights...
We fade in to a silhouette figure under the moonlight. From what we can see, the figure is going through a training session. This theme plays out by the week in a montage..
...endless hours.
«Mercedes taking her morning run at the break of dawn. Her breath came in short, breathy gasps as she jogs past the old Jackson Heights Post Office. Halfway up, her body gives out and she leans on a fire hydrant. She checks her stopwatch, noticing that it took her fewer than thirty minutes to reach from her apartment to her current location. Not bad for a three mile run. Closing her eyes at one point before re opening them, she turns the corner and continues down the sidewalk, picking up her pace as passerbys look back at her before tending to their own affairs.»
It’s a sacrifice for what we’re all striving for.
«In the darkness of a dank old gym, Mercedes is seen in a sports bra and leggings working her ass off in preparation for her upcoming match.»
One goal…
«Jump rope, elliptical training, and squats in the morning...»
...one purpose
«Cardio and weight training in the afternoon.»
…one word.
«Yoga at night.»
One word determines whether we take one step forward or two steps back…
«Week by week...Every day...Twice a day.
One word determines whether we've made it to the mountaintop or whether we have very far to go.
«Mercedes is on one of the treadmills wearing a gray tank top and leggings. A New York Giants visor covers her head. She grips an iPod in one hand as the earbuds drapes around her neck.»
One word: Win.
«She gets in a little cross training before we see her working on her striking with a sparring partner.»
At any cost…
«An assortment of kicks, strikes and punches follow, this time against a punching bag. The timing in her movements are near perfect in every step, twist and turn of her body.
By any means necessary…
«After performing a series of backflips, Mercedes drops to the ground in another pose, her head bowed.»
On any given day.
«Time passes. Sat on a workout bench with a towel draped over, Mercedes reaches for a water bottle and takes a swig from it before she stands to her feet and looks out into the skies as the orange glow of a new sunrise reaches the horizon.»
And as for me losing to Rayne...Well, they said the same thing last year.
«The time has come, the day was here. The end was near.»
Still, it won't be easy. But it will be worth it.
«Mercedes' half-smile is evident. With less than twenty-four hours until she graces the stage at Diamonds are Forever, and perhaps leaving as the number one contender, the only thing standing between failure and challenging for the Diamonds Championship was herself. The only thing standing between failure and making history was reality. With a spring in her step, the scene fades out as Mercedes saunters to the exits, corralling her gym bag in tow and we fade.»
_______≈₪≈______
«Open on a close-up shot of a glass of orange juice next to a bowl of cereal. A female hand reaches for the glass and when placed back on the table, it's now half full. Pull back slightly to see that it's Mercedes in her bathrobe and eating breakfast while reading the newspaper.»
For as long as I can remember, I've always stuck to my usual routine. Each morning starts with checking my cell for e-mails and tweets, catching up on the latest celebrity gossip, finishing the New York Times Sunday crossword, and then a five-mile run. Sometimes these are not in the same order. But before I carpe diem, I always made time for one of my favorite activities...
«She spreads the lifestyle section of the newspaper on the table and a closeup shot revealing the horoscope page.»
Reading my horoscopes...
.::MERCEDES::..
“There's no time like the present, so have that unsightly growth removed. Stay home and rest. Your next Career: Square Dance Caller. You'll throw out your back eating a taco this week.”
«She shrugs and smiles, silently mouthing wow while shaking her head.»
Not that I'm necessarily hooked on horoscopes, mind you, but it is tempting. About as tempting as a heroin addict who can't stay off the street corner. Why do we plan our lives around some detailed forecast of our futures or our love life based around the stars when we can take charge of our lives and make mistakes? Isn't that how we learn?
.::MERCEDES::..
You won't have enough to cover your tab. Wear running shoes. You will scratch yourself at the absolute wrong time. You need to spend some time thinking about your future. That favorite coworker of yours secretly hates you.
Wow, that was...interesting. But as far as horoscopes go, I have a feeling none of those things have or will happen to me this week. But you know what they say: Everything is funny, as long as it happens to someone else.
«Mercedes raises her head and turns in the direction of her door. There is an argument coming from the apartment across the hall.»
Vickie: Jack, can you do the dishes tonight? I'm very tired.
Jack: Can't we just put them in the dishwasher? I've had a very bad day, too! I just want to kick back and relax and watch the big game. Damn!
Ah, the Emersons. Newlyweds who just moved in about two months ago.
Vickie: Excuse me? Just because you had a bad day doesn't give you permission to take it out on me!
Jack: Yeah? Well, you try having to walk in running shoes because you couldn't pay your bar tab! Just leave me alone!
For a couple celebrating six months, they also like to argue...a lot.
Vickie: Boo fucking hoo! Try throwing out your back this week eating a taco and then getting an unsightly growth removed and ordered to three weeks' bed rest!
Jack: Maybe that's a blessing in disguise. We all know Katelyn secretly hates you. Now she's got a better reason to win Employee of the Month at Macy's!
And here I was thinking today was going to be different. So much for that.
Vickie: Why are you being such a jackass? I wish I never got married!
Jack: That makes two of us! I'm outta here!
«Mercedes cringes at the sound of dishes thrown across the wall followed by the loud slam of the front door.»
At least I won my personal bet. Vickie has already destroyed 1200 dollars worth of fine China. I had over 1130. All seems quiet on the Western front, though something tells me Jack Emerson won't be coming back anytime soon. Supposedly, he's going to see a certain Employee of the Month.
«Her hand glides across to grab her drink and she takes a slow sip from her glass.»
But that's none of my business.
«Fade.»
_______≈₪≈______
..::PROLOGUE::..
Oops, I did it again.
And here I was thinking my irrelevant opinion would be ignored.
Well, it was mostly.
Or was it?
As it turns out, it stirred up quite a hornet's nest, which wasn't my intention at all. This has more to do with who I am than being held to a double standard.
People want to label me as a head case, that's fine. I've long since said that I don't have time to worry about what people say or think about me. If they don't like what I have to say, then guess who has to just deal? Here's a hint, it's not me.
Some may say my words rubbed people the wrong way. It got under their skin, got them hot and bothered, made them a little uncomfortable. Some probably didn't bat an eye. Didn't mean it stirred up a little controversy, which is a lot more that I can say about my title reign. And speaking of, first off, I was forced to cash in my title, against my will. Only two people in the history of the Ruby Championship has never been defeated during their reign – Ana Valentine, and yours truly. Really, they say that I had little competition, that I barely defended my title? Fair point, but that's not entirely my fault, now is it? Maybe I should look through my contract again. If I'm lucky, I just might find some small print that says I book my own matches, no?
You know who else barely defended their titles? Try these names on for size: How about Eternity, how about the Brothers Black, huh? In fact, last time Franklin and Eduardo defended those titles, IWF still had another wrestling show on Thursday nights.
Last Rites 2014 was seven months ago, all right? Their second reign happened the same night I won the Ruby Championship on St. Patrick's Day. So don't tell me that I barely defended my title when we got all of this going on. This goes back to what I was saying that night in Madison Square Garden. People barely defended their titles. Especially the tag titles. I mean, do we even have tag teams anymore? Whatever happened to the intergender tag team division, hmm?
And it's not like I was ducking challenges, I practically begged anyone to face me, but no one wanted to play ball. So ask yourselves, is this really my fault, or is this really management's? I'll say this, it's about time they got their act together with this new wave of talent coming in because, let's face it, this was loooooong overdue.
Wait, I bet you're holding out hope that you're expecting a sympathy card from me for the holidays. I hope you're not holding your breath.
Guess that means I'm going to be crossed off a lot of people's Christmas lists.
I meant every word of what I said at Survival of the Fittest.
Don't blame me for saying what everyone was thinking.
_______≈₪≈______
Sleepless nights...
We fade in to a silhouette figure under the moonlight. From what we can see, the figure is going through a training session. This theme plays out by the week in a montage..
...endless hours.
«Mercedes taking her morning run at the break of dawn. Her breath came in short, breathy gasps as she jogs past the old Jackson Heights Post Office. Halfway up, her body gives out and she leans on a fire hydrant. She checks her stopwatch, noticing that it took her fewer than thirty minutes to reach from her apartment to her current location. Not bad for a three mile run. Closing her eyes at one point before re opening them, she turns the corner and continues down the sidewalk, picking up her pace as passerbys look back at her before tending to their own affairs.»
It’s a sacrifice for what we’re all striving for.
«In the darkness of a dank old gym, Mercedes is seen in a sports bra and leggings working her ass off in preparation for her upcoming match.»
One goal…
«Jump rope, elliptical training, and squats in the morning...»
...one purpose
«Cardio and weight training in the afternoon.»
…one word.
«Yoga at night.»
One word determines whether we take one step forward or two steps back…
«Week by week...Every day...Twice a day.
One word determines whether we've made it to the mountaintop or whether we have very far to go.
«Mercedes is on one of the treadmills wearing a gray tank top and leggings. A New York Giants visor covers her head. She grips an iPod in one hand as the earbuds drapes around her neck.»
One word: Win.
«She gets in a little cross training before we see her working on her striking with a sparring partner.»
At any cost…
«An assortment of kicks, strikes and punches follow, this time against a punching bag. The timing in her movements are near perfect in every step, twist and turn of her body.
By any means necessary…
«After performing a series of backflips, Mercedes drops to the ground in another pose, her head bowed.»
On any given day.
«Time passes. Sat on a workout bench with a towel draped over, Mercedes reaches for a water bottle and takes a swig from it before she stands to her feet and looks out into the skies as the orange glow of a new sunrise reaches the horizon.»
And as for me losing to Rayne...Well, they said the same thing last year.
«The time has come, the day was here. The end was near.»
Still, it won't be easy. But it will be worth it.
«Mercedes' half-smile is evident. With less than twenty-four hours until she graces the stage at Diamonds are Forever, and perhaps leaving as the number one contender, the only thing standing between failure and challenging for the Diamonds Championship was herself. The only thing standing between failure and making history was reality. With a spring in her step, the scene fades out as Mercedes saunters to the exits, corralling her gym bag in tow and we fade.»
_______≈₪≈______
..::EPILOGUE::..
You know how when you purchase something, maybe once in a while, and you're thinking what you bought was well worth the price tag, but you end up regretting it later? There's a word for that sick, nauseating feeling.
Buyer's remorse.
Maybe it's that flat-level home with an Olympic-size swimming pool or that car with the super-cool navigational system. Except that house needs plumbing or that car really is a lemon.
People hate it when they're cheated out of a good deal, but more often that not, they usually have to live with the consequences.
This holiday season, millions of malls across America are going to be filled with last-minute shoppers looking for that 60-inch flat screen TV, that video game console or the latest Apple device. And I wouldn't be surprised if someone actually goes through with getting that brand new car or house or that 24-karat ring, because nothing says I care than breaking the bank for your love ones, right?
That's why this time of year, I usually expect to see three things: Santa, Christmas movies running all week...
And facing Sandy Rayne at Diamonds are Forever.
Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite 25-year veteran.
Much has happened since we last saw you, Sandy. We rung in the New Year, celebrated the life and achievements of Martin Luther King on his birthday. Groundhog Day and the Super Bowl have come and gone, we sent our cards to that special someone on Valentine's Day, honored presidents past and present on President's Day, and got festive for Mardi Gras. We've prepared for the first day of Lent on Ash Wednesday, said hello to Daylight Savings Time, remembered the fate of the Jews on Purim, wore green on St. Patrick's Day, welcomed the first signs of Spring.
Played our best pranks on April's Fools, ushered in Palm Sunday and Passover, filed away our taxes on Tax Day, and then reflected on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Honored our mothers on Mother's Day, remembered our fallen in uniform on Memorial Day, devoted a day to our dads on Father's Day, and just could not wait for those lazy hazy crazy days of Summer. Celebrated another birthday for America on Independence Day, honored working people on Labor Day, and watched the leaves turned brown as Fall swept in. Columbus Day and Halloween was all a distant memory, and we turned back our clocks and bid farewell to Daylight Savings.
You missed quite a lot in 309 days, and it's sad to say that no one even noticed you were gone. But here you are again, six weeks since your return and looking for another run in IWF. So far, it's been so-so. I mean, you lost to Ana last week, but then who hasn't, right? But hey, at least you beat Alexis and you even won a tag match, that's a feather in your cap. And now everything comes full circle.
Life is funny like that.
You and me, me and you, one-on-one. And again something is at stake. Last year, it was about Team Lockheart versus the Board of Directors. This year, we're fighting for so much more. In a month's time, at Metamorphosis, one of us will get a title shot at either Ana Valentine or Amber Richards for the top prize in the Diamonds division and hopefully unseat whoever walks out of Detroit with the Diamonds Championship.
I'm just not sure that if you happen to beat me and then go on to lose if we'll ever see you again. Rayne, I've heard this all before. The 'I'm not going to be in the ring forever' spiel, the 'I'm as focused as I've ever been.' The “I came close, but no cigar” excuses. It's almost pathetic, really. But what else is new, right? The fact you claim that IWF is your home?
I love the way you lie.
You say that IWF is your home now, well riddle me this: where, oh where, have you been for the last ten months? Were you expecting and you wanted to keep it a surprise from everyone, is that it? No, wait. Were you injured? Maybe you decided to take a trip around the world in eighty days? (Well, in this case, you would probably need to do that more than twice, but you get the idea) Where were you when IWF use to have a second wrestling show? Where were you, Miss Twenty-Five Years, when all these new girls were coming in at a clip at a time? The Heiress to the Throne Tournament could have used a few more people. Where were you, Sandra? Because I knew where I was. For over six months, I've been busting my ass in this company week in and week out, night in and night out, competing in that ring. Since my in-ring debut, I've wrestled in 24 matches. Hold your applause. You've wrestled all of six matches in 13 months. Six! And four of those matches happened since you came back.
If you didn't get that the first time, let me slow it down and spell it out for you. I've been an active member of IWF longer than you have, bitch.
Now you let that sink in then tell me who is really the one just here for a golden opportunity.
The audacity that you would say that is mind blowing. For someone who has well over 20 years of experience on me, I find that kind of pathetic.
You may have everyone else fooled, but you're not fooling me, sweetheart.
You're not a warrior. You just play one on TV.
You might have desire and you might have passion but the difference between me and you is that we are respected for different things. I picked up the ball and ran with it. You took the ball and ran home. You have no concept of what it means to sacrifice your livelihood, to put your heart into something. To put your heart and your mind and your soul, your blood, sweat and tears just so fans can make a meager dollar off of you for five years, and yet you've been doing this three times as long as I have. You have no idea what sacrifice means, Rayne. You think you do, but you don't. You don't have a damn clue. Everything that I've accomplished in my career...EVERYTHING was because I worked my entire life to get here. I sacrificed my life to get to where I am today, I gave my life to this, where other women were just using this as a stepping stone.
It would have been easy to get into reality television. I could have continued my acting career or walked down that runway, but I knew I was better than that. I knew I was talented enough to mix it up with anybody in that ring. That's why all those title reigns you seem to gloss over, they didn't just land on my lap. I didn't win them because of a popularity contest or because I slept my way to the top or because I sucked up to the right people.
When I won the Ruby Championship – the very same championship that Firenze Everett and Felicity Fade will be fighting over this Sunday, and that I never really lost – I didn't need to have a six-foot-nine charisma vacuum from Canada to fight my own battles or become the company's village bicycle. It's because I was that good, and I kept that title for almost four months until it was taken away from me.
I think you already made it clear how you feel about me. You just can't stand me. I would go as far as to say you downright hate me. Not that I blame you, you're not alone. If you were able to accomplish even a third of what I've done in my so-called mediocre career, maybe then you wouldn't be the bitter, spiteful, jealous bitch that you are. When the everyday wrestling fan ask who is Mercedes Vargas, they are never at a loss for words. When they ask who you are, that question is met with any number of responses: A shrug, a raised eyebrow, a blank expression, the sound of crickets.
You talk about how I'm elsewhere going from place to place, yet you can waltz back in IWF whenever you feel like it? OK. I guess that's fair. Maybe this really is déjà vu all over again. Because if it happened in New Championship Wrestling, surely it can happen in Imperial Wrestling Federation.
Time is money and money is time and knowing someone like Simon de Montfort, he prefers not to waste either. That's why it pains me to see the direction the Diamonds division is going in, and why people like you want to waste his time. I don’t even know what IWF management was thinking hiring you back when they could have just as easily signed any old broad from off the street. The Diamonds Search was supposed to at least help in adding a few new faces to the roster, but look how that turned out. Not a single girl in that competition received a contract, not a one.
Great way to waste seven weeks, though. I'll say that much.
With you, Rayne, another run in IWF is a great way to waste a roster spot. I hear what you're saying, I love the sales pitch, but I'm not buying what you're selling. It's too bad this company doesn't see it the same way, but sooner or later, they're going to regret it.
Buyer's remorse.
On a cold, chilly December evening in East Rutherford, New Jersey, I beat you in the middle of the ring and stood, victorious, over your lifeless body, and then you were never heard from again. This Sunday, I've got news for you:..
That's exactly what's going to happen.
Rayne, Rayne, go away. Come again another day.
I'm ready for your best, you're hoping for my worst.
You know how when you purchase something, maybe once in a while, and you're thinking what you bought was well worth the price tag, but you end up regretting it later? There's a word for that sick, nauseating feeling.
Buyer's remorse.
Maybe it's that flat-level home with an Olympic-size swimming pool or that car with the super-cool navigational system. Except that house needs plumbing or that car really is a lemon.
People hate it when they're cheated out of a good deal, but more often that not, they usually have to live with the consequences.
This holiday season, millions of malls across America are going to be filled with last-minute shoppers looking for that 60-inch flat screen TV, that video game console or the latest Apple device. And I wouldn't be surprised if someone actually goes through with getting that brand new car or house or that 24-karat ring, because nothing says I care than breaking the bank for your love ones, right?
That's why this time of year, I usually expect to see three things: Santa, Christmas movies running all week...
And facing Sandy Rayne at Diamonds are Forever.
Well, well, well. If it isn't my favorite 25-year veteran.
Much has happened since we last saw you, Sandy. We rung in the New Year, celebrated the life and achievements of Martin Luther King on his birthday. Groundhog Day and the Super Bowl have come and gone, we sent our cards to that special someone on Valentine's Day, honored presidents past and present on President's Day, and got festive for Mardi Gras. We've prepared for the first day of Lent on Ash Wednesday, said hello to Daylight Savings Time, remembered the fate of the Jews on Purim, wore green on St. Patrick's Day, welcomed the first signs of Spring.
Played our best pranks on April's Fools, ushered in Palm Sunday and Passover, filed away our taxes on Tax Day, and then reflected on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Honored our mothers on Mother's Day, remembered our fallen in uniform on Memorial Day, devoted a day to our dads on Father's Day, and just could not wait for those lazy hazy crazy days of Summer. Celebrated another birthday for America on Independence Day, honored working people on Labor Day, and watched the leaves turned brown as Fall swept in. Columbus Day and Halloween was all a distant memory, and we turned back our clocks and bid farewell to Daylight Savings.
You missed quite a lot in 309 days, and it's sad to say that no one even noticed you were gone. But here you are again, six weeks since your return and looking for another run in IWF. So far, it's been so-so. I mean, you lost to Ana last week, but then who hasn't, right? But hey, at least you beat Alexis and you even won a tag match, that's a feather in your cap. And now everything comes full circle.
Life is funny like that.
You and me, me and you, one-on-one. And again something is at stake. Last year, it was about Team Lockheart versus the Board of Directors. This year, we're fighting for so much more. In a month's time, at Metamorphosis, one of us will get a title shot at either Ana Valentine or Amber Richards for the top prize in the Diamonds division and hopefully unseat whoever walks out of Detroit with the Diamonds Championship.
I'm just not sure that if you happen to beat me and then go on to lose if we'll ever see you again. Rayne, I've heard this all before. The 'I'm not going to be in the ring forever' spiel, the 'I'm as focused as I've ever been.' The “I came close, but no cigar” excuses. It's almost pathetic, really. But what else is new, right? The fact you claim that IWF is your home?
I love the way you lie.
You say that IWF is your home now, well riddle me this: where, oh where, have you been for the last ten months? Were you expecting and you wanted to keep it a surprise from everyone, is that it? No, wait. Were you injured? Maybe you decided to take a trip around the world in eighty days? (Well, in this case, you would probably need to do that more than twice, but you get the idea) Where were you when IWF use to have a second wrestling show? Where were you, Miss Twenty-Five Years, when all these new girls were coming in at a clip at a time? The Heiress to the Throne Tournament could have used a few more people. Where were you, Sandra? Because I knew where I was. For over six months, I've been busting my ass in this company week in and week out, night in and night out, competing in that ring. Since my in-ring debut, I've wrestled in 24 matches. Hold your applause. You've wrestled all of six matches in 13 months. Six! And four of those matches happened since you came back.
If you didn't get that the first time, let me slow it down and spell it out for you. I've been an active member of IWF longer than you have, bitch.
Now you let that sink in then tell me who is really the one just here for a golden opportunity.
The audacity that you would say that is mind blowing. For someone who has well over 20 years of experience on me, I find that kind of pathetic.
You may have everyone else fooled, but you're not fooling me, sweetheart.
You're not a warrior. You just play one on TV.
You might have desire and you might have passion but the difference between me and you is that we are respected for different things. I picked up the ball and ran with it. You took the ball and ran home. You have no concept of what it means to sacrifice your livelihood, to put your heart into something. To put your heart and your mind and your soul, your blood, sweat and tears just so fans can make a meager dollar off of you for five years, and yet you've been doing this three times as long as I have. You have no idea what sacrifice means, Rayne. You think you do, but you don't. You don't have a damn clue. Everything that I've accomplished in my career...EVERYTHING was because I worked my entire life to get here. I sacrificed my life to get to where I am today, I gave my life to this, where other women were just using this as a stepping stone.
It would have been easy to get into reality television. I could have continued my acting career or walked down that runway, but I knew I was better than that. I knew I was talented enough to mix it up with anybody in that ring. That's why all those title reigns you seem to gloss over, they didn't just land on my lap. I didn't win them because of a popularity contest or because I slept my way to the top or because I sucked up to the right people.
When I won the Ruby Championship – the very same championship that Firenze Everett and Felicity Fade will be fighting over this Sunday, and that I never really lost – I didn't need to have a six-foot-nine charisma vacuum from Canada to fight my own battles or become the company's village bicycle. It's because I was that good, and I kept that title for almost four months until it was taken away from me.
I think you already made it clear how you feel about me. You just can't stand me. I would go as far as to say you downright hate me. Not that I blame you, you're not alone. If you were able to accomplish even a third of what I've done in my so-called mediocre career, maybe then you wouldn't be the bitter, spiteful, jealous bitch that you are. When the everyday wrestling fan ask who is Mercedes Vargas, they are never at a loss for words. When they ask who you are, that question is met with any number of responses: A shrug, a raised eyebrow, a blank expression, the sound of crickets.
You talk about how I'm elsewhere going from place to place, yet you can waltz back in IWF whenever you feel like it? OK. I guess that's fair. Maybe this really is déjà vu all over again. Because if it happened in New Championship Wrestling, surely it can happen in Imperial Wrestling Federation.
Time is money and money is time and knowing someone like Simon de Montfort, he prefers not to waste either. That's why it pains me to see the direction the Diamonds division is going in, and why people like you want to waste his time. I don’t even know what IWF management was thinking hiring you back when they could have just as easily signed any old broad from off the street. The Diamonds Search was supposed to at least help in adding a few new faces to the roster, but look how that turned out. Not a single girl in that competition received a contract, not a one.
Great way to waste seven weeks, though. I'll say that much.
With you, Rayne, another run in IWF is a great way to waste a roster spot. I hear what you're saying, I love the sales pitch, but I'm not buying what you're selling. It's too bad this company doesn't see it the same way, but sooner or later, they're going to regret it.
Buyer's remorse.
On a cold, chilly December evening in East Rutherford, New Jersey, I beat you in the middle of the ring and stood, victorious, over your lifeless body, and then you were never heard from again. This Sunday, I've got news for you:..
That's exactly what's going to happen.
Rayne, Rayne, go away. Come again another day.
I'm ready for your best, you're hoping for my worst.
Well howdy there pardner.