Post by The Gardner Effect on Jul 20, 2013 21:49:48 GMT
And it turns out that, in the end, those who made the best out of their opportunities stepped forth and took on the final challenge. When the actual tests came, those who had to rise up to the occasion did so, and now...
We're only 2 steps away from the Diamonds Championship.
And the funniest thing is that, looking at the four of us - the last of us... -, it comes down to the resolve we bring along for the ride. Two rookies sharing the grand stage with two veterans. Two women that have already tasted success in a way or another, going against two hopefuls who long to achieve that alluring moment of superstardom. And no, this is not the story of a tag match as much as it is the story of the final four women who want to show the world they belong on top. Because, you see, it comes down to how we look at the grand prize.
It could be the fulfilling of a teenager dream.
It could be the redemption of a fallen career.
It could be the toy that's missing from the pen.
For me, it's recognition. It's the crowning point of a career that's already gone a whole lot of places... Yet there are so many more to go. It's an opportunity at being part of history by making it happen: being the first ever Diamonds Champion. This is not an honor for any woman; it's saved for the best of the best.
I bet this is the part where you expect me to go all like "I am the best of the best and you guys can suck a banana"... No. Not really. The stakes are too high for my standard confidence, even though I know I have what it takes to be on top and much more. I look across the line-up from me and I see three ladies willign to put their bodies and even their minds on the line to get THERE. We've come too far to half-ass it; now, more than any other moment, is the time to go all in. Place all bets, bust all moves, hold no stops. We've fought for this ever since day one; some may have a stellar record while doing it, some may have stumbled on an obstacle or two, but the truth is...
We've all come too far.
The question now, girls, is... have you come too far to stop... Or too far to continue?
For almost a week I saw myself on a bed, without any will to get back up. And it wasn't my bed either; it was Ayla's.
What, did you really think I'd fly back to New York with Christian, Linda and Rose after Spike basically went out of his way to screw everything up? Nah, I'm safe with Ayla. She's my fail-safe safe haven, my beacon of peace. And as playful and frisky as we all know she is, she ALWAYS know how to make me feel better, no matter how deeply miserable I may've gotten.
Or maybe this is just me talking out of the joy of being spoiled and pampered while I was staying as a guest at Ayla and Falcon's.
"Rise and shine, sunny beam," she came, her voice as bubbly and cheerful as usual as she sat on bed right by my side, holding a glass with vitamin; the one she knew I was very much fond of. "Here, take this. You ate pretty much nothing yesterday, I don't want my Big Red crumbling around with malnutrition or something."
"You're one to talk," I smirk at her as I sit on bed and take the glass from her, leaning forward to peck her on the cheek. "Thanks, sweetie."
A couple of silent seconds pass us by as I drink the vitamin she made me. A little heavy on the sugar, but nothing I can complain about; she's probably done that on purpose so I'd get a sugar rush and proceed to make out with her until the cows came home... Or maybe she had just overdone it just a but. Again, can't complain; she's doing all this out of the purest friendship. As Ayla watches me in silence, and I can't tell if she's admiring the sight - yeah, she does that at times - or wondering what to speak next, she sighs. "I hate seeing you sad like this," she mutters. "This is not the Alysson I know."
"I"m sorry, babe, but... You know, Michael overdid himself," I said faintly. "I... I thought he trusted me, I thought he would sit down and actually pay attention to what Chris and I tried to do, but instead, he just..." I can't continue. It was a comedy of errors on both our sides.
"I guess this is the time I crack a joke on the whole situation and try to get you to laugh," Ayla says. And quite honestly, yes, that was exactly what I expected from her, given her usual disregard for all those deep serious things. "Look, Aly, if it makes you feel better... Know that we're gonna stay here for you for as long as you may need. And if worse comes to worst... You got my back, no matter what happens. I can't speak for Kyle, I'm pretty sure he's gonna get serious cranky-pants if we tell him you're gonna live here for a while, but it can't be helped," she shrugs.
"I bet he's already pissed I've been around for three days," I reply with a sad giggle.
"Well, too bad for him if he is," Ayla shrugs. "I know I'm loving your company here, and it's going to be--"
"I'm going," we hear Falcon's voice from afar. Apparently someone was at the door, and he sprung up to see who it was before Ayla could even move. This, of course, peaked the blond hottie's attention, as she made me a handsignal to wait as she got up and went to the living room, not far from there, to see what was going on.
She stood outside for longer than I could wait. I finished the vitamin and covered myself back with the blankies as I waited patiently. Closing my eyes and focusing, I could hear a different male voice speaking to Falcon - it was Rob Diamond. I sighed, as he made me think of Michael... And it wasn't all good memories. And suddenly...
His voice.
"Alysson is here, isn't she?" I heard Spike talking to Ayla. His voice didn't seem angry; more like desperate. "Please tell me she's here."
"She is, but I don't think she--" Ayla tried, but was interrupted.
"Please let me talk to her. Show me where she is. Y-You don't get it, I need to talk to her! She's my wife!" I groan. Now I'm his wife. Cute. "C'mon, Ayla... Please... I'll do everything you want!"
"... everything?" I could sense Ayla was smirking WIDELY at him. Something he'd hate to see, but he had to nod and bow down to that. "Everything. Please, just let me see Alysson."
"Then you're going to promise me you aren't going to make her cry," she said. "If you do, I'm throwing you out of that bedroom by the balls and I'm not afraid of anything."
Those who know me and have followed me for the past 6 years know that I like to keep my stuff short and sweet. It's what separates adventurers from those who know what they're doing, and like my opponent for this weekend has correctly stated... I thrive in being honest just as much as I thrive in being brief in whatever I have to say. And the bottom line here is that, after all that's happened, I could say it's an honor being in the final four, and I'll be glad and am looking forward to fight anyone of you for that championship.
Except for you, Eternity.
For someone that's gone far off the deep end, you're far more than a vermin than I am, and if push comes to shove, I'll have the ultimate pleasure in wiping you out of the competition. It's easy for you to play the role of the bad bitch, the menace, the one we should all be wary of, when in fact you're only really good at it when the lights are off. Differently from you, Harley, I don't need to resort to the cheap mind games to get the job done. You may even deceive some people by making them think you come from the supernatural and you can bend reality as you wish, but you can't fool me. You're no Queen of the Dead...
You're the Queen of Nuisances.
So if I may have your attention for a moment - that, of course, if you can focus on one thing at a time instead of being a scatterbrained prick thinking you can hug the world with your bare hands -, allow me to remind you that I was the one to first stain your record within IWF. So you can go ahead and gloat about being one of the best Diamonds this company has... I'll go ahead and win the matches that MATTER.
But hey, if anything, kudos for being a player, right? You've already made pretty much half the girls in the back afraid of what you can do in and out of the ring, and that's always something I can nod to and respect. Whatever you have to do to prove you're a hot shot, right? Kidnapping Tiffany Jones was a pretty bold move, I'mpretty sure you feel so badass right now, seeing as people are legit scared of what the incredibly unpredictable and menacing Eternity can do.
Too bad I'm in the other half that could care less. While they, the other girls, call it being dangerous, I call it trying too hard.
I mean, let's be fair here, my sweet Eternity. Were you the best Diamond, you'd have trumped me in our first ever match. You can say all you want that Ms. Reed is going to beat me up silly or how you've had the best of me twice; just don't forget that, in individual competition, I got one over you. And I'm DYING to make it happen again.
Whoops. No. Wrong word. I'm not "dying", right? That would make you believe you have any sort of control over me, right, Miss "Queen of the Dead"?
So allow me to remind you of something else: I've never felt SO alive during my entire wrestling career. Lineage is my chance to PROVE to the world everything I have been SAYING day in and day out, and it's not a mindless little piece of crap like you that's going to stop me from getting to the very top again. But by all means, go ahead and say how you're going to come out on top at the end, how you're going to end the night laughing at me, as you sip on your cup o' tea and show your shiny new belt to your teddy bears while the rest of us are being mummified in the hospital.
Try-hard much?
"He insisted," Ayla told me as Spike was, after three days of distance, right there in front of me. He had the worst Puss in Boots face I've ever seen him to, as I grimaced at him. "I'll... Leave you two be for the time being so you can... You know... Talk."
"Thanks, Ayla--" he said, looking at her as she left; and as she did, she threw Spike the 'I got my eyes on you, bastard' motion before closing the door behind her, leaving me and him alone in the bedroom. A long silence followed before I spun on bed and covered myself.
"Go away."
He sighed as he took shy steps forward. "I... I need you to come back home, Alysson. Please."
"What for? Aren't you good enough talking care of your son by yourself?" I speak into the blankets, as I don't want to look at him. I can feel him sitting up on the bed right next to me as he sighs in deeply.
"I was wrong," he said; "I was speaking out of my ass and you have no idea how much I regret having done what I did. Xander is OUR son, Christian is part of OUR family, and OUR house has never been so empty ever since you left and decided to not come back."
"That's the point," I said. "Now you have your space all for yourself, and you can deal with all the problems yourself accordingly without me having to hide anything from you. No go aw--"
"No, Alysson, I don't want to deal with my problems alone," he speaks up. "Not having you by my side these days showed me the much you mean to me, especially now that.... That BITCH River wants our son back. You... You've been dealing with her these past days, and I've got so much on my mind with those Australian demons spewing their s**t, I... I had my consciousness clouded there, and I... I want you to come back home. With me. Please. I love you too much to have you stay here away from me."
I don't move, even though I can hear the honesty in his voice. "Why didn't you listen to me...?"
"Alysson... Please. It's like I said. I wasn't in my best conscience. I was pissed, I had been lied to, those Australian bitches had the best of my cool... Please, Aly, forgive me..."
I finally get up from my position as I look at him with the ultimate grimace. "How can I know you're not playing a number on me?"
"For all heavens' sake, Alysson, you're part of me! A part I've missed more than I ever thought I would! I was wrong, ok?! I made a wrong call by not paying attention to you and Chris, and you have no bloody clue how that hurts me. It... It pierces my heart every time that I think I was the one to blame for Chris' broken nose, for you leaving our home..." he sighs. "Xander misses you so much..." And that breaks my heart. Xander is a cutie pie that cannot be held guilty for his father's demons.
"You're going to promise me..." I look into his eyes as I growl. "Promise me you're going to LISTEN to me before doing ANYTHING. Your ex-wife has been trying time and time and time again to steal your son from right under your nose and I'm trying to kick her out of our life without you having to dal with yet ANOTHER problem in your goddamn life!"
"Our son, Alysson," he says. "OUR son."
"Awwwwwww," we can hear Ayla's voice coming from the door frame; "It ain't going to be today that I take a boy out of my bedroom by the nuts."
Of course, this prompts both Spike and I to look at her. ".... what?"
"I'm not here. Carry on."
Spike shrugs after a moment, and turns back to me. "So... Are you coming back home?"
"Only if you promise me you're NEVER... EVER going to do ANYTHING before listening to me first. If you trust me, you'll have to understand that everything I do... Is to protect you."
"Everything for you, Aly. Everything."
I smirk at him and hug my husband. "I love you, Spike. Don't... Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." For a long while, we stay right there, hugging.
"... does this mean I'm losing my roommate? Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww."
Kathleen Conway. Again we meet with a belt on the line. It looks like our careers are bound to cross over and over and over again, doesn't it? I remember when you and Mercedes Vargas were something to be afraid of, back at that other place, when you actually held a tag team championship that made justice to the incredible legacy of the one who would futurely become the woman of the almighty ruler of the Inferior Stars division.
Pity all of that fell apart. Apparently things have changed a lot since I came back frommy year-long hiatus, and what has the mighty Kathleen Conway been reduced to?
One could think that I'd had a lot to throw your way, just so you could hate me even more than you might already do, and I'd end up this rant by laughing at your face and pointing out how you've gone from someone I could actually trust to a technical enemy and then a technical nobody... But no. I have nothing for you, not tonight. Your world has fallen apart so hard to the point the only thing you have left for yourself is your hollow confidence, and it almost takes a toll on me to be the villain and prove your words wrong. Mostly because they refute themselves; maybe it's just me, but praising Eternity for having balls by actually trying to get inside your mind is pretty funny, coming from someone who made a career out of Opportunity.
But I must thank you for one thing you said: I AM one of the greatest women in this industry. And as such, I don't have to rely on bold, ballsy moves to strike fear or at least get a modicum of respect from my peers; my past and my legacy speak for themselves. Which, in turn, shows me that you haven't learned a single thing after getting your ass kicked every area code; you got your respect all messed up.
And even then, I can't not respect you. I mean, you have an accolade I don't; one people will forever call me out on not being interested in... Maybe I really wasn't. You'll never know. Maybe your life has never been as troublesome as mine; you've never had to bend over backwards to take care of an arrested husband.
I guess this is the tale of your story, Kathleen. You don't know pain enough. Not the way I do. But I'll give you this much -- you know betrayal. Because your memory keeps betraying you, and you should be thankful that I, your fellow veteran in this four-way fray, am here to remind you of how miserable our parallel routes have been.
To think I once thought you were the best...
So, while I can't say I have any respect for you - it's been way too long since I lost any kind of competitive respect for you, since you insist in proving my words wrong even when I actually pay you some homage -, it's out of my deepest pity of you that I won't tell you to shove that middle finger of yours up your own. I have more to worry about other than gloating about how I'm the best and you're a pitiful pretender, especially when I know what a desperate woman is capable of. So if your hate for me and for the rest of the world is the fuel you've got in the tank to keep on rolling, then by all means... Keep on hating.
I just hope you haven't forgotten, knowing your selective amnesia, that I helped made you. I was the one that turned the carefree, "I'm-doing-this-for-fun" Kathleen Conway into a true competitor that actually cares about winning matches and getting your weary hands on belts as a reward for your unholy sacrifices. I was the one who showed you the dirty side of wrestling and toughened you up so you'd actually be able to endure how unfair and painful wrestling is. You may even have become somehing dangerous that I should be wary of...
Excuse me while I take pride in having made you something.
We're only 2 steps away from the Diamonds Championship.
And the funniest thing is that, looking at the four of us - the last of us... -, it comes down to the resolve we bring along for the ride. Two rookies sharing the grand stage with two veterans. Two women that have already tasted success in a way or another, going against two hopefuls who long to achieve that alluring moment of superstardom. And no, this is not the story of a tag match as much as it is the story of the final four women who want to show the world they belong on top. Because, you see, it comes down to how we look at the grand prize.
It could be the fulfilling of a teenager dream.
It could be the redemption of a fallen career.
It could be the toy that's missing from the pen.
For me, it's recognition. It's the crowning point of a career that's already gone a whole lot of places... Yet there are so many more to go. It's an opportunity at being part of history by making it happen: being the first ever Diamonds Champion. This is not an honor for any woman; it's saved for the best of the best.
I bet this is the part where you expect me to go all like "I am the best of the best and you guys can suck a banana"... No. Not really. The stakes are too high for my standard confidence, even though I know I have what it takes to be on top and much more. I look across the line-up from me and I see three ladies willign to put their bodies and even their minds on the line to get THERE. We've come too far to half-ass it; now, more than any other moment, is the time to go all in. Place all bets, bust all moves, hold no stops. We've fought for this ever since day one; some may have a stellar record while doing it, some may have stumbled on an obstacle or two, but the truth is...
We've all come too far.
The question now, girls, is... have you come too far to stop... Or too far to continue?
For almost a week I saw myself on a bed, without any will to get back up. And it wasn't my bed either; it was Ayla's.
What, did you really think I'd fly back to New York with Christian, Linda and Rose after Spike basically went out of his way to screw everything up? Nah, I'm safe with Ayla. She's my fail-safe safe haven, my beacon of peace. And as playful and frisky as we all know she is, she ALWAYS know how to make me feel better, no matter how deeply miserable I may've gotten.
Or maybe this is just me talking out of the joy of being spoiled and pampered while I was staying as a guest at Ayla and Falcon's.
"Rise and shine, sunny beam," she came, her voice as bubbly and cheerful as usual as she sat on bed right by my side, holding a glass with vitamin; the one she knew I was very much fond of. "Here, take this. You ate pretty much nothing yesterday, I don't want my Big Red crumbling around with malnutrition or something."
"You're one to talk," I smirk at her as I sit on bed and take the glass from her, leaning forward to peck her on the cheek. "Thanks, sweetie."
A couple of silent seconds pass us by as I drink the vitamin she made me. A little heavy on the sugar, but nothing I can complain about; she's probably done that on purpose so I'd get a sugar rush and proceed to make out with her until the cows came home... Or maybe she had just overdone it just a but. Again, can't complain; she's doing all this out of the purest friendship. As Ayla watches me in silence, and I can't tell if she's admiring the sight - yeah, she does that at times - or wondering what to speak next, she sighs. "I hate seeing you sad like this," she mutters. "This is not the Alysson I know."
"I"m sorry, babe, but... You know, Michael overdid himself," I said faintly. "I... I thought he trusted me, I thought he would sit down and actually pay attention to what Chris and I tried to do, but instead, he just..." I can't continue. It was a comedy of errors on both our sides.
"I guess this is the time I crack a joke on the whole situation and try to get you to laugh," Ayla says. And quite honestly, yes, that was exactly what I expected from her, given her usual disregard for all those deep serious things. "Look, Aly, if it makes you feel better... Know that we're gonna stay here for you for as long as you may need. And if worse comes to worst... You got my back, no matter what happens. I can't speak for Kyle, I'm pretty sure he's gonna get serious cranky-pants if we tell him you're gonna live here for a while, but it can't be helped," she shrugs.
"I bet he's already pissed I've been around for three days," I reply with a sad giggle.
"Well, too bad for him if he is," Ayla shrugs. "I know I'm loving your company here, and it's going to be--"
"I'm going," we hear Falcon's voice from afar. Apparently someone was at the door, and he sprung up to see who it was before Ayla could even move. This, of course, peaked the blond hottie's attention, as she made me a handsignal to wait as she got up and went to the living room, not far from there, to see what was going on.
She stood outside for longer than I could wait. I finished the vitamin and covered myself back with the blankies as I waited patiently. Closing my eyes and focusing, I could hear a different male voice speaking to Falcon - it was Rob Diamond. I sighed, as he made me think of Michael... And it wasn't all good memories. And suddenly...
His voice.
"Alysson is here, isn't she?" I heard Spike talking to Ayla. His voice didn't seem angry; more like desperate. "Please tell me she's here."
"She is, but I don't think she--" Ayla tried, but was interrupted.
"Please let me talk to her. Show me where she is. Y-You don't get it, I need to talk to her! She's my wife!" I groan. Now I'm his wife. Cute. "C'mon, Ayla... Please... I'll do everything you want!"
"... everything?" I could sense Ayla was smirking WIDELY at him. Something he'd hate to see, but he had to nod and bow down to that. "Everything. Please, just let me see Alysson."
"Then you're going to promise me you aren't going to make her cry," she said. "If you do, I'm throwing you out of that bedroom by the balls and I'm not afraid of anything."
Those who know me and have followed me for the past 6 years know that I like to keep my stuff short and sweet. It's what separates adventurers from those who know what they're doing, and like my opponent for this weekend has correctly stated... I thrive in being honest just as much as I thrive in being brief in whatever I have to say. And the bottom line here is that, after all that's happened, I could say it's an honor being in the final four, and I'll be glad and am looking forward to fight anyone of you for that championship.
Except for you, Eternity.
For someone that's gone far off the deep end, you're far more than a vermin than I am, and if push comes to shove, I'll have the ultimate pleasure in wiping you out of the competition. It's easy for you to play the role of the bad bitch, the menace, the one we should all be wary of, when in fact you're only really good at it when the lights are off. Differently from you, Harley, I don't need to resort to the cheap mind games to get the job done. You may even deceive some people by making them think you come from the supernatural and you can bend reality as you wish, but you can't fool me. You're no Queen of the Dead...
You're the Queen of Nuisances.
So if I may have your attention for a moment - that, of course, if you can focus on one thing at a time instead of being a scatterbrained prick thinking you can hug the world with your bare hands -, allow me to remind you that I was the one to first stain your record within IWF. So you can go ahead and gloat about being one of the best Diamonds this company has... I'll go ahead and win the matches that MATTER.
But hey, if anything, kudos for being a player, right? You've already made pretty much half the girls in the back afraid of what you can do in and out of the ring, and that's always something I can nod to and respect. Whatever you have to do to prove you're a hot shot, right? Kidnapping Tiffany Jones was a pretty bold move, I'mpretty sure you feel so badass right now, seeing as people are legit scared of what the incredibly unpredictable and menacing Eternity can do.
Too bad I'm in the other half that could care less. While they, the other girls, call it being dangerous, I call it trying too hard.
I mean, let's be fair here, my sweet Eternity. Were you the best Diamond, you'd have trumped me in our first ever match. You can say all you want that Ms. Reed is going to beat me up silly or how you've had the best of me twice; just don't forget that, in individual competition, I got one over you. And I'm DYING to make it happen again.
Whoops. No. Wrong word. I'm not "dying", right? That would make you believe you have any sort of control over me, right, Miss "Queen of the Dead"?
So allow me to remind you of something else: I've never felt SO alive during my entire wrestling career. Lineage is my chance to PROVE to the world everything I have been SAYING day in and day out, and it's not a mindless little piece of crap like you that's going to stop me from getting to the very top again. But by all means, go ahead and say how you're going to come out on top at the end, how you're going to end the night laughing at me, as you sip on your cup o' tea and show your shiny new belt to your teddy bears while the rest of us are being mummified in the hospital.
Try-hard much?
"He insisted," Ayla told me as Spike was, after three days of distance, right there in front of me. He had the worst Puss in Boots face I've ever seen him to, as I grimaced at him. "I'll... Leave you two be for the time being so you can... You know... Talk."
"Thanks, Ayla--" he said, looking at her as she left; and as she did, she threw Spike the 'I got my eyes on you, bastard' motion before closing the door behind her, leaving me and him alone in the bedroom. A long silence followed before I spun on bed and covered myself.
"Go away."
He sighed as he took shy steps forward. "I... I need you to come back home, Alysson. Please."
"What for? Aren't you good enough talking care of your son by yourself?" I speak into the blankets, as I don't want to look at him. I can feel him sitting up on the bed right next to me as he sighs in deeply.
"I was wrong," he said; "I was speaking out of my ass and you have no idea how much I regret having done what I did. Xander is OUR son, Christian is part of OUR family, and OUR house has never been so empty ever since you left and decided to not come back."
"That's the point," I said. "Now you have your space all for yourself, and you can deal with all the problems yourself accordingly without me having to hide anything from you. No go aw--"
"No, Alysson, I don't want to deal with my problems alone," he speaks up. "Not having you by my side these days showed me the much you mean to me, especially now that.... That BITCH River wants our son back. You... You've been dealing with her these past days, and I've got so much on my mind with those Australian demons spewing their s**t, I... I had my consciousness clouded there, and I... I want you to come back home. With me. Please. I love you too much to have you stay here away from me."
I don't move, even though I can hear the honesty in his voice. "Why didn't you listen to me...?"
"Alysson... Please. It's like I said. I wasn't in my best conscience. I was pissed, I had been lied to, those Australian bitches had the best of my cool... Please, Aly, forgive me..."
I finally get up from my position as I look at him with the ultimate grimace. "How can I know you're not playing a number on me?"
"For all heavens' sake, Alysson, you're part of me! A part I've missed more than I ever thought I would! I was wrong, ok?! I made a wrong call by not paying attention to you and Chris, and you have no bloody clue how that hurts me. It... It pierces my heart every time that I think I was the one to blame for Chris' broken nose, for you leaving our home..." he sighs. "Xander misses you so much..." And that breaks my heart. Xander is a cutie pie that cannot be held guilty for his father's demons.
"You're going to promise me..." I look into his eyes as I growl. "Promise me you're going to LISTEN to me before doing ANYTHING. Your ex-wife has been trying time and time and time again to steal your son from right under your nose and I'm trying to kick her out of our life without you having to dal with yet ANOTHER problem in your goddamn life!"
"Our son, Alysson," he says. "OUR son."
"Awwwwwww," we can hear Ayla's voice coming from the door frame; "It ain't going to be today that I take a boy out of my bedroom by the nuts."
Of course, this prompts both Spike and I to look at her. ".... what?"
"I'm not here. Carry on."
Spike shrugs after a moment, and turns back to me. "So... Are you coming back home?"
"Only if you promise me you're NEVER... EVER going to do ANYTHING before listening to me first. If you trust me, you'll have to understand that everything I do... Is to protect you."
"Everything for you, Aly. Everything."
I smirk at him and hug my husband. "I love you, Spike. Don't... Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." For a long while, we stay right there, hugging.
"... does this mean I'm losing my roommate? Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww."
Kathleen Conway. Again we meet with a belt on the line. It looks like our careers are bound to cross over and over and over again, doesn't it? I remember when you and Mercedes Vargas were something to be afraid of, back at that other place, when you actually held a tag team championship that made justice to the incredible legacy of the one who would futurely become the woman of the almighty ruler of the Inferior Stars division.
Pity all of that fell apart. Apparently things have changed a lot since I came back frommy year-long hiatus, and what has the mighty Kathleen Conway been reduced to?
One could think that I'd had a lot to throw your way, just so you could hate me even more than you might already do, and I'd end up this rant by laughing at your face and pointing out how you've gone from someone I could actually trust to a technical enemy and then a technical nobody... But no. I have nothing for you, not tonight. Your world has fallen apart so hard to the point the only thing you have left for yourself is your hollow confidence, and it almost takes a toll on me to be the villain and prove your words wrong. Mostly because they refute themselves; maybe it's just me, but praising Eternity for having balls by actually trying to get inside your mind is pretty funny, coming from someone who made a career out of Opportunity.
But I must thank you for one thing you said: I AM one of the greatest women in this industry. And as such, I don't have to rely on bold, ballsy moves to strike fear or at least get a modicum of respect from my peers; my past and my legacy speak for themselves. Which, in turn, shows me that you haven't learned a single thing after getting your ass kicked every area code; you got your respect all messed up.
And even then, I can't not respect you. I mean, you have an accolade I don't; one people will forever call me out on not being interested in... Maybe I really wasn't. You'll never know. Maybe your life has never been as troublesome as mine; you've never had to bend over backwards to take care of an arrested husband.
I guess this is the tale of your story, Kathleen. You don't know pain enough. Not the way I do. But I'll give you this much -- you know betrayal. Because your memory keeps betraying you, and you should be thankful that I, your fellow veteran in this four-way fray, am here to remind you of how miserable our parallel routes have been.
To think I once thought you were the best...
So, while I can't say I have any respect for you - it's been way too long since I lost any kind of competitive respect for you, since you insist in proving my words wrong even when I actually pay you some homage -, it's out of my deepest pity of you that I won't tell you to shove that middle finger of yours up your own. I have more to worry about other than gloating about how I'm the best and you're a pitiful pretender, especially when I know what a desperate woman is capable of. So if your hate for me and for the rest of the world is the fuel you've got in the tank to keep on rolling, then by all means... Keep on hating.
I just hope you haven't forgotten, knowing your selective amnesia, that I helped made you. I was the one that turned the carefree, "I'm-doing-this-for-fun" Kathleen Conway into a true competitor that actually cares about winning matches and getting your weary hands on belts as a reward for your unholy sacrifices. I was the one who showed you the dirty side of wrestling and toughened you up so you'd actually be able to endure how unfair and painful wrestling is. You may even have become somehing dangerous that I should be wary of...
Excuse me while I take pride in having made you something.
Well howdy there pardner.