Post by Fiona McFly on Jun 29, 2015 22:32:33 GMT
I'm my lifetime lads, I've been called a lot of things.
I've been called a cheater in the academic world because I tend to possess the God-given gift of an intelligent mind. I've been labeled a fraud within the Imperial world simply on the basis that I am, in fact, the fiancee to a certain man who's been in the gig for nearly eight full years. Yet when I first got my start, I made a promise to myself that I would go ut there and show the entire planet that I could handle the rigors of the profession on my own—without the need to be someone else's personal lapdog.
But, for all of her accolades and achievements—of which I will not judge here—Amber Richards doesn't seem to appreciate a gorram thing about what I've done to get to the Heiress to the Throne series. Make no mistake darlings, I will do whatever it takes to make the entire globe see just how much of a presumptuous, vile, and arrogant lassie she truly is—one of many detractors who get their jollies off by telling the masses that I don't belong in the Diamonds division.
In fact, whilst I fully understand that she did what she had to do in order to take said Diamonds Championship away from Ana Valentine, Ms. Richards only helped Jess Reed out in order to serve her own interests--and that, lads, is rather uncouth. All she really cares about is padding her resume whilst making the lesser population bow to her disgustingly pretentious whims.
And believe me, it will be all worth it when I crack the proverbial whip on her. Why? I've grown tired of people like Amber telling me “I can't” do this or I don't respect the game.
Believe me, it will all make sense.
**********
I've been called a cheater in the academic world because I tend to possess the God-given gift of an intelligent mind. I've been labeled a fraud within the Imperial world simply on the basis that I am, in fact, the fiancee to a certain man who's been in the gig for nearly eight full years. Yet when I first got my start, I made a promise to myself that I would go ut there and show the entire planet that I could handle the rigors of the profession on my own—without the need to be someone else's personal lapdog.
But, for all of her accolades and achievements—of which I will not judge here—Amber Richards doesn't seem to appreciate a gorram thing about what I've done to get to the Heiress to the Throne series. Make no mistake darlings, I will do whatever it takes to make the entire globe see just how much of a presumptuous, vile, and arrogant lassie she truly is—one of many detractors who get their jollies off by telling the masses that I don't belong in the Diamonds division.
In fact, whilst I fully understand that she did what she had to do in order to take said Diamonds Championship away from Ana Valentine, Ms. Richards only helped Jess Reed out in order to serve her own interests--and that, lads, is rather uncouth. All she really cares about is padding her resume whilst making the lesser population bow to her disgustingly pretentious whims.
And believe me, it will be all worth it when I crack the proverbial whip on her. Why? I've grown tired of people like Amber telling me “I can't” do this or I don't respect the game.
Believe me, it will all make sense.
**********
June 11, 2015 – 8:00 AM
FIONA MCFLY: (singing) “The snow glows white on the mountain tonight, not a footprint to be seen.”
We find ourselves back inside the Gaither's Arlington home, where on a sunny Thursday morning we find Fiona McFly as she cracks a couple of eggs and places them into a pan on the electric range. Normally, it is Jack who cooks breakfast for her; yet on this particular day, the Irishwoman wanted to surprise her fiancee by making SOME attempt of fixing an omelette. The Irishwoman is alone in her own little world, freee from the chaos that comes with her "nighttime" job in the Imperial world. This morning, she is channeling her inner Idina Menzel as she sings "Let It Go," the popular track from the Disney musical film Frozen.
FIONA: (singing) “A kingdom of isolation and it looks like I'm the queen...”
She covers the eggs with a lid and then proceeds to spray a paper towel with dusting spray, her singing becoming quite angelic as she prepares the oak table for its usual cleaning.
FIONA: (singing) “Let it go, let it go—can't hold it back anymore. Let it go, let it go—turn away and slam the door. I don't care what they're going to say—let the storm rage on...”
The Irishwoman, smiling lovingly, continues humming the rest of the show tune as she dusts off the dining room table. We then spot Kirk McFly--who's sporting blue jean shorts, black tennis shoes, and an officially-licensed Chelsea FC replica jersey--as he walks into the dining area from his room.
KIRK MCFLY: Mornin'!
FIONA: Ahhh...g'mornin' young lad. Sleep well?
Kirk stretches his arms out as he heads toward the fridge. He pulls out a small bottle of Nesquik chocolate milk and gulps it down before tossing it into a pink recycling bin that sits next to the white garbage can.
KIRK: Oh yeah...I didn't know you could sing?
FIONA: (chuckling) Neither does your father.
Satisfied with her work, Fiona chucks the paper towel she was using to dust down the table into the garbage can, which is just about full of trash from last night's dinner.
FIONA: I always wanted to be a singer—so I took classes on music and musical films. I loved it.
KIRK: Then how come you didn't pursue that dream?
Kirk's mother ekes out a slight frown.
FIONA: 'Tis complicated—after all, I had the responsibility of ownin' a pub.
The young man isn't paying attention. Instead, his eyes light up as he begins to smell something odd.
FIONA: What's wrong?
KIRK: Is something burning?!
Fiona's jaw drops, for she realizes that she'd left the eggs on the stove for too long. She lifts the lid up from her pan--only to discover that they're nothing more than crispy versions of themselves.
FIONA: Oh, bloody fucking hell...
She shakes her head as she moves the newly-burnt eggs from the pan to a large plate with her spatula. Her son warmly grins from ear to ear, chuckling to himself over the Irishwoman's misfortune. Yet Fiona silently resolves to make another attempt of whipping up a decent breakfast. After all, with each passing day she learns that it's OK to evolve and to change her life, eschewing her quieter, more logical lifestyle for a more open-minded way of thinking...
...as well as learning how to cook.
**********
Amber, sweetheart...how dare you think of me as nothing more than a stepping stone. You might've been a double Champion in the past, but that is over. Il finito--finished. Now I'm going to be the one who treats you like a stepping stone towards my rightful spot in the Heiress to the Throne series.
How DARE you think of me as—and I heartily quote—Jack's piece of Irish arse without recognising the blessings that I've gotten whilst in this sport. Honey, you haven't studied me enough from the inside-out to know that I am fully capable of handling ANYTHING life throws at me on my own. No matter the result, I will always look ten times better than how you perceive me. You say Mercedes Vargas was full of shite? I've beaten her before. You say I can't hang 'round with Jess Reed? When SHE of all people praises me—even in a loss—that says something now, doesn't it?
You simply do not know me very well—and that will be your downfall.
How DARE you talk to me like I'm some sort of pompous little girl who's done nothing throughout her miserating existence. Had you sat there and actually did a little more research, you would've found out tht this so-called “little girl” has managed to do more in the gig than anyone would've ever imagined. To me, you're attitude is very reminiscent of the same detractors who once told me to stick to ownin' a pub in the middle of nowhere, and time and time again, I've proved people like YOU wrong.
And I shall do the same again.
How DARE you talk to me about “respect” without even taking so much as a hint of time to understand that I have my OWN ways of handling this sport and its trappings. In all humble seriousness, you haven't done enough homework on me to know firsthand that I—and I alone—have the right to pick and choose who I show your form of “proper respect,” and as a matter of fact, there are two people in the Imperial world that I share an immense respect for—and one of them isn't you, darling. In their own unique ways, Jess Reed and Alexis Caffery have taught me the importance of getting to know the entire roster from the inside-out, yet they've also praised me because I am very feisty despite the rigors of life that I've had to experience.
You, on the other hand, have done nothing more except shove your pretentious side down my throat—and that SICKENS me. In fact, I put you in the same category as those who've told me time and time again to “get in line” or “I can't do...” a gorram thing without relying on somebody else.
And I won't tolerate it any longer.
You are VERY presumptuous to think that you are God's greatest gift to grappling—that you can simply roll me over just because of your wide variety of accomplishments and accolades whilst I strive to better myself in ways that you cannot seem to comprehend. You are VERY presumptuous to think that I don't know the meaning of the word “respect.” Quite frankly, deep down within your very heart, you are just like “the system” that people are too afraid to confront and combat every single day of our lives. For far too long, I've had people tell me that I couldn't do this or I couldn't do that, and that, in my worldview, makes me want to puke.
It won't matter in the end, love. I will continue to fight the system for as long as I live.
And it all begins with you.
Amber darling, your time is at an end I'm afraid. Your ways of preaching to the choir about respect and humility will all come to pass faster than you'll ever realise. Your days of thinking that you can run down someone just because they're in the midst of a relationship and not capable of handling their own affairs are over. The Imperial world needs a fresh start to close out the halfway mark of 2015, and quite frankly, we won't get it with your over-the-top, vile personality and your selfish desire to simply crown yourself a queen without having enough sense to take someone's personal life out of the equation and focus more on what she can do in her craft. All those accomplishments and accolades won't mean a thing after I beat you, and—perhaps just maybe—you'll learn to appreciate and respect me for the fact that, contrary to what you might spin, I can handle my life and career on my own.
I've done it before—and I'll do it again.
I guarantee it.
Amber, sweetheart...how dare you think of me as nothing more than a stepping stone. You might've been a double Champion in the past, but that is over. Il finito--finished. Now I'm going to be the one who treats you like a stepping stone towards my rightful spot in the Heiress to the Throne series.
How DARE you think of me as—and I heartily quote—Jack's piece of Irish arse without recognising the blessings that I've gotten whilst in this sport. Honey, you haven't studied me enough from the inside-out to know that I am fully capable of handling ANYTHING life throws at me on my own. No matter the result, I will always look ten times better than how you perceive me. You say Mercedes Vargas was full of shite? I've beaten her before. You say I can't hang 'round with Jess Reed? When SHE of all people praises me—even in a loss—that says something now, doesn't it?
You simply do not know me very well—and that will be your downfall.
How DARE you talk to me like I'm some sort of pompous little girl who's done nothing throughout her miserating existence. Had you sat there and actually did a little more research, you would've found out tht this so-called “little girl” has managed to do more in the gig than anyone would've ever imagined. To me, you're attitude is very reminiscent of the same detractors who once told me to stick to ownin' a pub in the middle of nowhere, and time and time again, I've proved people like YOU wrong.
And I shall do the same again.
How DARE you talk to me about “respect” without even taking so much as a hint of time to understand that I have my OWN ways of handling this sport and its trappings. In all humble seriousness, you haven't done enough homework on me to know firsthand that I—and I alone—have the right to pick and choose who I show your form of “proper respect,” and as a matter of fact, there are two people in the Imperial world that I share an immense respect for—and one of them isn't you, darling. In their own unique ways, Jess Reed and Alexis Caffery have taught me the importance of getting to know the entire roster from the inside-out, yet they've also praised me because I am very feisty despite the rigors of life that I've had to experience.
You, on the other hand, have done nothing more except shove your pretentious side down my throat—and that SICKENS me. In fact, I put you in the same category as those who've told me time and time again to “get in line” or “I can't do...” a gorram thing without relying on somebody else.
And I won't tolerate it any longer.
You are VERY presumptuous to think that you are God's greatest gift to grappling—that you can simply roll me over just because of your wide variety of accomplishments and accolades whilst I strive to better myself in ways that you cannot seem to comprehend. You are VERY presumptuous to think that I don't know the meaning of the word “respect.” Quite frankly, deep down within your very heart, you are just like “the system” that people are too afraid to confront and combat every single day of our lives. For far too long, I've had people tell me that I couldn't do this or I couldn't do that, and that, in my worldview, makes me want to puke.
It won't matter in the end, love. I will continue to fight the system for as long as I live.
And it all begins with you.
Amber darling, your time is at an end I'm afraid. Your ways of preaching to the choir about respect and humility will all come to pass faster than you'll ever realise. Your days of thinking that you can run down someone just because they're in the midst of a relationship and not capable of handling their own affairs are over. The Imperial world needs a fresh start to close out the halfway mark of 2015, and quite frankly, we won't get it with your over-the-top, vile personality and your selfish desire to simply crown yourself a queen without having enough sense to take someone's personal life out of the equation and focus more on what she can do in her craft. All those accomplishments and accolades won't mean a thing after I beat you, and—perhaps just maybe—you'll learn to appreciate and respect me for the fact that, contrary to what you might spin, I can handle my life and career on my own.
I've done it before—and I'll do it again.
I guarantee it.
Well howdy there pardner.