Independent's Day

[Fiona McFly]

FIONA'S JOURNAL
30 June 2016

Normally, I consider myself a reasonable woman.

But last week...I would imagine that the entire lot saw a little bit of my “ugly” side, the part of me that screams “Northern Irish temperament.”

First off, I humbly acknowledge that Crystal Millar beat me fair and square three weeks ago, and honestly...I see some good things coming from her in the future. With that in mind, I spent the past three-plus weeks on holiday, taking in one of my favourite pastimes—the lovely, peaceful, serene game of golf. This past Monday, I was supposed to compete in a charity pro-am with none other than Rory McIroy, with my fiancee Jack serving as my caddy. Well...let's just say he had other ideas in mind.

Did he deserve my Howler for partnering with Johnny Gillmen last week when he was SUPPOSED to be retired? There's a part of me that would say “yes, he did,” but...I was extremely hurt by the snub and handled it in a manner that, quite frankly, I've tried to keep very much in check. The stubborn part of me wants to just grab him by the netherregions and make him beg for mercy, but there's the other side of me that fully understands that, indeed, Jack is an independent man who only wanted to pay back a debt owed to his protege.

After all...they're like brothers. And what good are brothers when they don't stick together, right?

Yet there's one thing—no, TWO things actually—that irk me more than finding out your own fiancee snuck out of the hotel so he could defy doctor's orders.

Firstly, nothing—I repeat, NOTHING—boils my blood more than to see the once-proud IWF Shieldmaidon being treated like piss by Paige and Sara Garcia, those two meddlesome twins. After watching people like Kayla Richards hold onto that trophy and make it relevant, having to sit there and watch its splendor be completely destroyed—by the Fingerpoke of Doom no less—just...it REALLY maddens me to no end. And if you live to be a thousand years old, will this make any sense to you? Will it make any gorram sense?!

I thought so.

What a joke.

Second, and most importantly, Ana Valentine, Amber Richards...there's a part of me that wants to fully respect and appreciate your individual accomplishments and accolades. There's a portion in my soul that wants to pass off your small-talk last week as....well, small-talk. Every fiber of my well-being wants me to believe that you two beauties are right on the money, but then again...there's a BIG reason why I consider myself an independent woman on a mission to become THE future of the Diamonds division.

You have no idea about the fire that burns within my conscience.

How dare you two think of yourselves as above the division, talking down to everyone like a spoiled rotting child, when you've absolutely ZERO right to do so. You, Ana, left the Diamonds to become a mother—that is understandable and I respect that—but when I DON'T respect is the fact that you, quite literally, squandered away a sizable chunk of your fortune—a fortune you inherited from your father—to start your own wrestling promotion that never fully got off the ground, a company I decided to do a one-off for charity with because I wanted to pay you back, in the only way I could, for you giving me the opportunity to have my first IWF match against you by showing you exactly how far I've come in a span of a year.

But now that the Valentine Wrestling Syndicate is no more...I see you for the bitter, wretched lassie you've become.

You, Amber? I fully understand that you've won multiple championships and I respect that. Yet at the same time...I can't get over the notion that you would actually be in agreement with Ana herself, that you and her want to restore the Diamonds division to tis supposed “former glory.” Yet in the mind's eyes, there's a very BIG reason why Ana so happens to be in the Hall of Fame...and your not. It's as simple as a slice of my favourite apple pie...

...you are merely a follower, not a true leader.

Whilst you two were away on your other ventures, I have been the one Diamond within this entire organisation that has truly stepped up her game, so much so that I walked away with this year's Iron Maiden when most people would pass me as nothing more than a fraud and laugh at me. Yet along the way to this point in time, I've struggled to find a foothold. But through every obstacle, through every defeat, I've never lost my resolve to compete. I never strayed away from the chosen path that I have set for myself, but most important of all...I NEVER, EVER abandoned the IWF Diamonds division when they needed a beacon of light, a deliverer of hope and joy to those who haven't any.

That's why I'm your Iron Maiden.

And that's why, my lovelies, I WILL become your Heiress to the Throne.

~~~~~~~~

27 June 2016 – 2300 GMT
An hour after Sacrifice went off the air...

...we find Fiona McFly, sporting a black polo golf shirt, khaki shorts, and white running shoes, sitting on the end of the bed inside the posh Liverpool hotel room she shares with fiancee Jack Gaither.  Yet in the mind of the Belfast native, she didn't plan on being back in England in the first place.  She had spent the previous three weeks on a well-deserved holiday, partaking in her usual favorite pastime of golf while visiting some of the United Kingdom's most storied historical sights.

Yet on this damp night, she was not in the mood for sharing pleasantries with anyone.

Earlier in the day, Fiona and Jack were both in Scotland, visiting the famous Royal and Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews for an all-day charity pro-am with some of golf's biggest names, but Jack--recently retired from wrestling--had allegedly snuck out of the Scottish-based hotel without his fiancee's knowledge, taking the short flight to Liverpool so he could wrestle in a one-off tag team match with longtime friend Johnny Gillmen as his partner.

Fiona McFly had her arms crossed in anger--for all she wanted to do was hit the links with her favorite golfer, Rory McIlroy, with Jack serving as her caddy.

The hotel room's door opens up, and we see Jack stepping into the picture, still wearing his boots, blue jeans, and red polo shirt.  Fiona stood up with her arms still folded like a mother about to punish her child for doing something stupid, staring at her fiancee as she prepares to just let him have it.

FIONA MCFLY: You got a bloody cheek...

Jack shook his head, sighing as he walked toward the room's ninth-floor balcony and opened the sliding glass door.

JACK GAITHER: Oh great, not this again...it's bad enough when ya get the itch to do somethin' that goes against doc's wishes, but it's even worse when the one ya love unceremoniously calls ya by your full, given name and basically reads ya the riot act in front of millions of people only 'cause ya wanted to do what your heart told ya.

Fiona opened up her right hand, showing off the 24-karat gold and diamond engagement ring Jack gave her around this time last year.

FIONA: Haven't you forgotten the very notion of why you put that ring on my finger, eh?! You made that commitment to love me, cherishing me 'til death do we part?!

Jack scoffed.

JACK: Shit, I may have problems with my brain but I haven't forgotten a thing. You, on the other hand...

Fiona pounded her fist on the nightstand, interrupting Jack before he could finish his sentence.

FIONA: What about me, eh?!

Jack sighed to himself at Fiona's icy tone of voice, realizing that he wasn't going to win on this night.

JACK: You don't understand that even though we're SUPPOSED to be together, even the best couples have things that differ from another. You enjoy golf as a hobby, I enjoy wrestlin'...and I'd rather have the latter since I ain't good at swingin' a club.

Fiona gritted her teeth before slowly walking up to Jack, who now stands on the balcony that overlook's Liverpool's cityscape.

FIONA: Why'd you do it?

The Texan closed his eyes, taking in the humidity with the full understanding that he couldn't hide the truth from the one he loved the most.

"After all," he thought as he looked down at the cars below.  "I wouldn't lie to her."

JACK: Ya know J.J., right--a.k.a. "Johnny Gillmen?"

FIONA: Fuck's sake, of COURSE I know J.J. Who doesn't?

Jack put his hand up in the air as if to say "okay, okay...relax."

JACK: Five years ago...the company I was workin' for was loads of money in the red and was thinkin' about firin' a bunch of guys—I was one of 'em. J.J., given his unique ability to persuade management, save my ass from bein' canned. He helped me that itch for the sport in ways that ya can't even beg to imagine...and I owed him a lot.

Jack turned to face Fiona.

JACK:  That's why I did what I did—to pay him back. After all...J.J.'s been like a brother to me—like the one I never had in my life.  When ya get further into the gig Fifi...ya start to respect the people around ya not just as colleagues, but as family.  And wrestlin's been the only semblance of family I ever had...and leavin' that nest hurts me.  It really does.

Fiona placed her hand warmly on Jack's left shoulder, trying to soften the blow.

FIONA: I can empathise with you on that and, really, that's why I've always loved you.  You've always been loyal to your friends and family 'til the very end, but still, it makes no rhyme or reason to defy doctor's orders just 'cause you have some attachment to an entertainment form that you can't let go of.

Fiona's statement causes Jack to perk up his right brow, for he took great offense to anyone labeling his love for the wrestling business as a mere "attachment."  To the Arlington native, wrestling was his livelihood, his only escape from an ever-changing world that's been plunged into darkness by acts of terrorism and cowardice.

JACK: Neither does mashin' l'il white balls into the water all goddamn day.

Fiona jumps back, irked at her fiancee's angry, off-the-cuff remark about her favorite out-of-ring hobby.

FIONA: That's not fair Jack.

JACK: Yeah, like it was fair that ya decided to VOLUNTEER ME to be your caddy at that pro-am without askin' me how I felt about it first. That was really fair.

Fiona merely wanted to make sure that Jack followed the orders of his neurologist and not take part in professional wrestling anymore, but she took a few steps back upon listening to her love's anguish.  Within a few moments' time, the room got extremely quiet....

...for there was no sense of joy to be found.

~~~~~~~~

Addisyn,

I don't believe I've seen you compete inside a ring before, and if I'm wrong...well, I'll just leave that up for the sporting gods to decide. As it stands, I know absolutely nothing about you so I can't give my own analysis of what I think of you from a wrestling standpoint; it's a crying shame too 'cause I generally start with the positives on an opponent before diving into the negatives. Yet in hindsight, to utilise a nautical phrase...it truly appears as if I'm sailing into unknown, uncharted waters.

But this, sweetheart, is the point where the pleasantries start sinking toward the ocean floor.

If there's one thing—one singular, solitary thing—that's worse than having to sit there and watch a prized championship be turned into an utter pile of rubbish, it's the very prospect of sitting through a match that features those who would run away from trouble instead of taking their lumps like a proper professional. It REALLY drives me batty to think that there are people on this planet who would stoop to such levels as taking credit for other people's accomplishments or achievements.

People like you.

The ONLY reason why you're in this Heiress to the Throne to begin with is that you were gifted into the series by none other than Kathy Conway herself as some sort of twisted “wildcard.” You haven't done a thing to even warrant a spot in such a prestigious contest like the Heiress series whilst other Diamonds like, say Shea O'Hara or Crystal Millar, have worked ALL THEIR LIVES to be able to make it to this point in their careers.

And since you want to play with the “big girls” as the cliché goes...you get to have some fun with me.

Only I play rough—VERY rough.

I earned EVERYTHING that I've gained during my time in the Imperial Wrestling Federation—from multiple Diamonds Championship opportunities and headlining major shows to becoming the 2016 Iron Maiden. I stood up for what was right within this division, eventually becoming the beacon of light that everyone can follow when they find themselves wrapped in darkness. Yet through every mess, through every defeat, I stood tall whilst the remainder of the competition—names like Avery Barnes come to my mind—withered away in self-doubt or pity...all without abandoning the very division that's given me so much in just a short span of time.

And I plan on showing you EXACTLY what it means to hang with the real Diamonds firsthand...

...it just won't be a pleasant experience for you, I'm afraid.

~~~~~~~~

Fiona slowly nodded her head, realizing that despite her best efforts to protect Jack from harm, he was an independent human being who felt deprived of being able to enjoy the things that he wanted to do that made him tick.

FIONA: You're right...I should've asked.

Jack slowly bobbed his head up and down, trying to remain silent as his thoughts trained on his future retirement plans. Deep in his very soul, he had not been able to let go of his love for wrestling ever since he made his announcement, and it broke his heart to think that the last thing he would find himself being involved in was the sport of golf.

He merely thought of the sport as Fiona's way of making him forget about the job that made him famous.

JACK: And besides, if I ever have to look at another wrinkly old man wearin' a pair of plaid knickers on the 13th green again, I'd have to kick my own ass.

Fiona scoffed before smacking Jack right across the back of his hand with her right hand.

FIONA: And what the bloody hell's that supposed to mean anyway?!

JACK: Aww, c'mon! Ya wanna keep me on the golf course 'cuz you're afraid I'm gonna waltz out to an arena, start thumpin' skulls again, and possibly kill myself.  Ya want me to be a man of peace, right?  Is that how ya really feel?!

FIONA: That's it—you're a natural at golf but you just need the practice. You can be a global ambassador!

The Texan quickly shook his head in a negative fashion.

JACK: Nahh, THAT'S not it.

Jack's face mustered a grin that resembles the look a kid gives whenever he or she just ate all the cookies from the jar; in his brain, the Texan could only think of one notion--that Fiona herself wanted to simply keep him on the proverbial dog leash.

But the Northern Irishwoman, as if she was able to read her love's mind, poked him in the ribs in a playful manner.

FIONA: Oh, stop it—you're conjuring up piles of rubbish in your noggin!

Jack chuckled slightly before tickling Fiona in her most ticklish spot around her neck, causing her to jump.

JACK: What's the matter babe, did ya think I was gonna sneak outta Scotland and have that one-off with Johnny without givin' ya a goodbye kiss?!

FIONA: PFFFFFT!!   I could just as well snog with out kitty-cat Spot...

JACK: Well lemme make your acquaintance then.

Jack walked toward the hotel room's door and opened it up, and before Fiona could even ask where he was going, he stuck his head in the threshold and mustered a slight scowl.

JACK: You could USE a good snog!

Jack slammed the door shut, leaving Fiona to contemplate.  She couldn't help it...but she slowly managed to eke out a sly smirk on her mug.  "Jack might be a stubborn scoundrel at times," she thought to herself as she closed the sliding glass door to the room's balcony. 

"But who am I to judge...for I'll STILL love him anyway."

~~~~~~~~

Sarah,

I tend to think of myself as having a very humble personality, so it comes as no surprise that when we last met a few months ago, you managed to beat me because I was still trying to figure things out for myself, trying to piece together the puzzle that my career has been ever since I first joined IWF. Even though it WAS by cheating, I still managed to come up on the losing end, thus allowing you to get into my mind. But the times have changed, sweetheart. I could've lost that wonderful temperament that I've always tried to keep under wraps with some degree of difficult success, but I chose not to.

I took the time to grow and to adapt—using actions, not words, to prove myself.

On the other hand, you haven't learned a gorram thing since you beat me last.

You couldn't beat Shea O'Hara even if somebody had planted a dog's muzzle into your mouth and clamped it shut, thus proving to me that you're brand of “social justice” just doesn't work. It REALLY burns my heart in knowing that a wretched, politically-motivated woman such as yourself would wind up in the Heiress to the Throne series in the first place, for I believe that words are like a double-edged sword. Sure, people like you want to emphasise the power of words to promote peace, love, and understanding among all people, but along the same lines, when used in a manner that demeans people instead of appreciating them, they bring about the “ugly” side of our world. I'm talking about the things we see on our headlines on a daily basis—cyber-bullying, political mud-slinging...

...or worse, terrorism in its most demonic, diabolical form.

You, darling, need to fully understand the importance of deeds over speech.

I don't need to mince words or utilise some poetic SAT-vocabulary to chime on you with this one, simple fact...that actions speak louder than words. I am the 2016 Iron Maiden. I am one of the biggest headliners in the Diamonds division today, and I will—come hell, high water, or frozen berg—be the deliverer of hope and joy to those who've never had any of it in their lives. For I am the FUTURE of the Imperial Wrestling Federation's women's division, and there's not a thing that you—or anyone else—will be able to do about it. Face it darling...your outlandish, over-the-top propaganda speeches won't save you from the inevitable.

After all...actions do speak louder than words.

Cheers!