Hermosa Beach, CA.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her beauty, lying there unconscious, so peacefully, her jaw swelling up slowly, bruised from the swing I took which made me feel bad, okay not really, when you become apathetic to life in general there isn’t much a woman like me feels an inkling of remorse for what I perpetrated on another human being. Life is such, we need to get used to the vicious cycle, bleeding out in the broken-down social circles who want to pretend peace, love and harmony exists. Peyton Rice is the shining example of what is right and what is wrong in our industry. So full of life and now consumed by vitriol. I raised the left ankle, held her foot in my hands for a moment seeing if there was any reaction before dropping it, made a pretty big thump, I hope I didn’t add a broken heel to the rest of the damage. Standing up, realizing this place is actually really nice, but I bet it was Rice who decorated it, not Chris Cannon, he doesn’t seem to have an announce of artistic prowess.
“I’m hungry.”
Saying it out loud had more dramatic effect to it. Stepping over Peyton, the kitchen was only a few feet away, why not indulge. Opening the refrigerator, I scrounged through everything….
“Tempeh? Crap. Soy Chicken? Crap. Falafel? Crap. Jesus, Peyton do you eat any meat? I would have imagined Chris was at least a carnivore, he must sneak out at night to In N’ Out probably 3 times a week. Wait… what do we have here? Jelly and bread….”
There was still hope, Peanut Butter had to be in the cupboard, hopefully none of that powdered just add water shit. Pulling on the cabinet doors, I found treasure, a little Peanut Butter, thinking I better make this quick as I’m pretty sure someone is coming to her rescue after I made the call. I get an appetite with a little debauchery, don’t know why, maybe it’s like the munchies after sex. I get turned on by violence, erotica, tough my mind thinks very differently than everyone else’s. after making my sandwich, I walked back over to Peyton who was all sprawled out on the floor, sat next to her, brushing some strands of hair back.
“You have a nice life. I envy that, because I was never really given a chance to have the luxuries like this. Look at you, so perfect in every way from head to toe, I hate you for it. I wish I could say this wasn’t personal, but it was. Forget Kandis, I didn’t do it for just Kandis, but of course she was a nice incentive as her and I have developed a bond. I did it for ME, cunt for you took away the one thing that I cherished most in my life…. The love of my father and the respect he had for his baby girl. You took my place, Pey-Pey and one day I vowed I would pay you back.”
Taking a bite of my sandwich, chewing slowly all I could do is run my finger across her lips….
“Peyton, you deserve revenge and one day I know you’ll be coming for me, I look forward to it. For now, I leave you with this.”
Placing a rose on her chest, I lean in and lick her smooth, silky face. Such a gentle creature, too bad she fucked with the wrong family. Slowly getting up on my feet, I walk over to the glass door, crack it open as Bear, guessing that’s his name? Giving him the rest of my sandwich.
“Peace offering buddy, I’ll see my way out the front door.”
HEROES AND VILLAINS ARE MERELY PERCEPTION
Am I really evil? I know how the SCW and the sport of professionally wrestling as a whole tend to obsess over alignments, they need to typecast certain individuals to tell their stories, sell the product, most of all, have a target. For every David Helms, Chris Cannon, Glory Braddock, Josh Hudson and Pat Evans there are Kandis, Tommy Valentine and Minerva. It’s almost comical in a very Shakespearean sort of way. The Canaanites were driven away from the Promised Land because they were considered the villains by the Israelites. The Mormons were run off and slaughtered by the thousands, executed for their beliefs. The Christians, murdered by the millions for their acknowledgment of a Messiah others felt was a fraud and fake, fed to lions, used as fodder in the Gladiator Games. Society talks so much about equality; they praise civilizations who tortured and persecuted the freedom to stand for something they were willing to fight for. Why does every single social norm must cycle through their own hypocritical oaths to determine what is right and what is wrong? Isn’t it bad enough I was singled out from the very first day I stepped into the sport of professional wrestling, they all looked at me in the locker room like I was some vampire cunt, a Gothic witch or some ghostly whore who was anemic to the rays of the sun, and this is, okay? Sadly, what every single one of you find normal, I find self-righteous and unnatural for not one hero, legend, hall of famer or main eventer can see past their own flaws, greed and duplicity. Instead, they are all encouraged to act like pack rats, follow the established order, kneel to the rules set by those who have no inkling whatsoever that the means of the few do not equate to the many, this has been one huge clique and at the forefront of this battle is Mr. D.
How Quaint.
Well boss man, no more Wonderlands, no more Infamous….
The real threat?
You’re looking right at her.
Florida Everglades
1.12.2021
My home away from home, the chance to take some time for myself, even Konrad Raab can be smothering at time, and a girl like me needs the chance to really find herself, okay not really, I know who the fuck I am, and with this tag team match and everything that happened last week, let’s just say a little preparation is called against a man like Josh Hudson, even Pat Evans, who I have taken the time to look up which really?
Didn’t take long to read up on.
It has become apparent I am Public Enemy Number One, after what I did to Peyton Rice, then ruffled some feathers which the attention of the owner to the company brought him back, could be that David Helms and Chris Cannon were at the center of this, then again maybe not. There was one person in my life that made all sense to me, she was the only voice to my reasoning in a very passionate and giving sort of way, her name is Azalea, my aunt, the only woman who reminds me of my mother, tragically passing when I was only 13 years old of cancer. My mom made the world a whole lot better, I actually still believed in it, humanity and all the good which could come out it…
… when she died, so did that hope.
Some may think that I am this heinous and nefarious woman who has no compassion to what is happening around her? That is true, but I wasn’t always like this. Am I a bad seed, did the crops sour? I like to think there is some semblance of empathy left in me or at least Azalea does, even though she too understands the tactics of survival. SCW is the preserve, and we are the game. Azalea was a Gypsy, of Romani descent much like myself, she always walked around barefoot for some reason, wore those long colorful skirts, button up shits and vest, this black hat as well. As I sat on the couch in a pair of jeans, a Misfit’s t-shirt, and black sneakers, my hair slicked back in a clip, enjoying the swampy air, she came outside, sitting next to me….
Azalea: “You’re playing with fire young one.”
As she was speaking, I decided to text another nude to Chris Cannon, he hadn’t blocked my number yet so there was hope he was masturbating at my pics while rubbing Sienna’s belly, one can only hope, now I needed to pretend in paying attention again to auntie Azalea…
Minerva: “Somehow I knew you would say that. Why? What have I done different this time that I haven’t before? WWH, GCW, EAW, any promotion I have entered I went for the jugular, fuck this making your way to the top crap. Silent mouths and idle bodies don’t get paid. I chose my spots, knowing full well what I was going to do and who I would piss off. Grant it, I didn’t think that Konrad would actually fall for this, but whatever, I will milk this situation dry.”
Azalea: “That’s the problem little one, within a blink of an eye, you could lose all control and then all that will be left are the pieces to pick up. You have been there before, broken, battered and bruised, is this what you want?”
Her concern was cute, but this was how the dice are rolled, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose but, in my world, against a woman like myself, each time is a gamble. Azalea was always worried about me, someone had to. She did though enable my carnal desires because in her eyes, I was still that young little raven-haired girl who was so innocent and pure…
Minerva: “Auntie, attacking the paragon of virtue is going to put a bullseye on my back. I have allies, I have Konrad.”
Azalea: “Konrad is a gorger. He is a love-stricken fool who will do anything for you, that poor bastard is so convoluted my fiica, he can be quite the liability. A man that obsessed, especially at his age and just how willing he is to submit himself to you? This is not normal.”
I let out a small laugh hearing her calling this not normal, no shit.
Minerva: “That’s the point, he is MY muse. Look how easy it was to turn him, first it was his wife, now it is him in the palm of my hands. I can do whatever I wish, and it is acceptable to him. Look how long it took for me to turn him against his friends and family. Matusa, he’s my weapon, my toy and he will do whatever I want him to.”
Azalea: “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Minerva: “I do.”
She didn’t believe me, I could tell. Azalea stood up and went inside, probably getting some of that medicinal tea, I pretend it’s good but it’s not. She doesn’t understand my history with Konrad, I don’t think anyone will. As I close my eyes, I think of the one night that changed everything for me, it was the moment I knew, I needed to save him….
From himself.
New Mexico
Four Years Ago
The smell of stale beer, musty sheets and dried up semen was a breath of fresh air in the little cheap motels I stayed in, as a punk rookie only barely 19 years old, I didn’t make the money these other stars made, especially in the indies. I could barely scratch by, didn’t own a car, believed in public transportation, my wrestling gear was hand me downs from the Goodwill, I didn’t have a pot to piss in, but I was able to get by. My first tour as a wrestler took me all over the world, I had been in the WWH for about three months, still learning the ropes. The very first person to ever be nice to me was Konrad Raab. He was a gentle old man who I couldn’t read very well, part of me thought he wanted a piece of my jiggle ass, the other part looked at me as a daughter so to speak, became my protector, always looked out for me, made sure I had a hot meal and warm bed to sleep in, but sometimes that is not even enough, a girl has needs…
… and wants.
And for Minerva? She wanted it all.
Typical run-down bar in the middle of nowhere, the strangest of characters pop in, I should know growing up in the middle of nowhere Texas. Usually, I had someone picked out when I felt the urge, on this night though out of the corner of my eye I saw Konrad sitting in the corner by himself, he was texting a lot, probably trying to explain to his cunt wife what he was doing every second of the day. We just had a show, sure I was sore, though I won, most of the time it went my way. Deciding to be sexy tonight, I had my fuck me boots on, fish net stockings and a very tight black short dress. I didn’t believe in color then, always liked to wear black like a sexy Morticia. There was a hitchhiker, he was rugged in a very cute sort of way, looked like his life savings was in his backpack….
That’s a no, he is broke.
Scouring around I could see Konrad periodically looking over at me, turning the minute I looked back, and while I am only 19 years old, the fact men would buy me drinks, I was never asked or carted. Then this trucker came up to me, he had money….
…. God I’m such a whore….
Or am I? A girl has to survive right?
Turning to him, I gave him a seductive smile, the rest was in the bag.
Two Hours Later
I once gave oral sex to a police officer to let my brother go and not take him to jail, I’m not above using my body to get what I want, but I wouldn’t call myself a hooker, more an opportunist, at least in this stage of my life. He was asleep in my motel bed; okay time was up. I was able to get in my panties and tank top, looking through his wallet, he had a wad of cash, didn’t even know his name until I saw his driver license….
Minerva: “BJ? How ironic.”
Saying it with a slight giggle. After taking what I felt was mine after indulging in his sexual frustrations while cheating on his wife, men are such pigs. I placed his wallet back in the jeans, then proceeded to nudge him with my bare foot on his back, I figure the coldness of my soul would wake his ass up…
Minerva: “Hey, BJ…. Get up man.”
BJ: “Uhhh….. what…. What time is it?”
Minerva: “2 AM, come on, get the fuck out of my room.”
He sat up, giving me the glare as to why I was kicking him out. I didn’t have time for this shit, all I wanted to do was shower and take the smell of Kodiak off my skin and dip out of my pours. I would probably have to bathe in witch hazel just to cleanse my vagina. I was starting to lose a little bit of patience when he thought it would be a good idea to lay back down…
Minerva: “BJ, seriously, please get out of my room. You have a truck in the parking lot, go sleep in it.”
BJ: “Come back to bed, I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning.”
Seriously? I don’t want to spoon, cuddle or sleep in the same bed as him, I could use breakfast, but not worth it. As he laid there, this time I nudged him with my foot again a little more forceful, if I have to do it one more time, I will superkick the hair off him…
Minerva: “Okay, this is not a date, it is not about kissing and having breakfast in the morning, we had our fun, you can get dressed and go now, call your wife or something.”
BJ: “Easy there, we were just getting started.”
Minerva: “No we were not. Get dressed and get out.”
Grabbing his jeans, shirt, boxers, socks even his Caterpillar boots, I threw them right at him, bouncing off his chest, that really didn’t make him happy, at this point I really didn’t care. I was tired, hurting, I probably shouldn’t have fucked this clown, but I needed some money, I wasn’t under contract, wrestling paid me by appearance, and it’s not like I had a savings account or any type of money for a rainy day….
BJ: “You’re a rude little bitch! I’m trying to be nice here, I even offered to buy you breakfast!?”
Minerva: “You gave me a lot more than that BJ, now get out. I’m sure some people would take offense knowing you were screwing 19-year-olds and buying underage girls drinks. Now get the fuck out!”
As he rolled off the bed, he started to get dressed. Watching BJ like a hawk, I waited until he was fully dressed, he then went into his wallet, here we go….
BJ: “Did you rob me, whore!?”
Minerva: “Rob you!? That was services paid, now I suggest you get the hell out of here before I call your wife, I did memorize the phone number in the “In Case of emergency” card. Now go!”
BJ: “You took $300 from me!”
Minerva: “I’m not cheap.”
BJ: “Give me back my money!”
Rolling my eyes, I leaned against the dresser and started to laugh at him, he was so pathetic, but that was when suddenly he grabbed me by the neck and threw me on the bed….
Minerva: “What the fuck!? You don’t want to do this!”
BJ: “Give me my fucking money now, whore!”
Minerva: “Fuck You!”
Those words didn’t win him over one bit, grabbing me again, this time I pressed my foot against his face, but he was too strong, pinning me down, he ripped my tank top and dug into my bra where the money was at. I tried to fight him off and scream, before I knew it he hit me with a right cross which almost knocked me out cold. I was stunned for a moment, holding my face as he walked out of the room…
BJ: “Fucking whore!”
Hearing this, I had another surge of energy, sprinting out of the bed, I jumped his back as we lead outside, before I could get my long black nails into his eyes, he flipped me over on to the hard concrete, that shit hurt. I again laid there staring at the stars or maybe I was seeing them. Suddenly I heard a scuffle, raising my head slowly, everything seemed blurry as I think I hit my head on the ground going down. I could see someone fighting with BJ, I couldn’t tell who it was, knocking him to the ground, when I fell backwards, glaring up at the sky, when he was in my peripheral, staring down concerned….
It was Konrad Raab, and at the very moment, I blacked out and it was silent.
One Hour Later
Opening my eyes slowly, I could see my motel room, laying on the bed, a wet towel over my head. Turning to my left, Konrad was sitting there, my leg draped over his lap, he was wrapping up my knee, seemed like it was scraped up pretty bad when I landed thanks to that asshole. I noticed the three hundred dollars on the nightstand…
Konrad: “You’re awake! I was so worried about you, Minnie. I thought you may have a concussion, but I checked your pupils, it seems like you just banged your head pretty good. What happened?”
Minerva: “I made a mistake, I invited that guy….. I…. uhhh my head. I invited that guy to my room, he seemed to be nice and then…. He….”
Konrad: “Tried to hurt you?”
Yes….
Minerva: “YES! He tried to hurt me, matter of fact, he tried to steal from me $300 dollars, after how hard I have worked for that money, son of a bitch tried to take my money, he was probably some drug addict or something.”
Konrad: “Did he…. Try to….. you know….”
Minerva: “Rape me?”
Konrad: “Y… yes.”
Oh, this was too easy….
Minerva: “YES…. He tried, look how he tore my top off, and it was sooooo scary Konnie, I didn’t know what to do, I thought I was going to die, but thank the heavens you were there to save me!”
My question was, what the hell was he doing outside at 2 AM, grant it we were all staying in the same motel, but I always wondered with Konrad. There were times where he seemed like my Guardian angel, other times, creepy old German guy stalker. Grant it I had daddy issues, but was this normal? It can’t be.
Konrad: “I am glad that I was outside. I couldn’t sleep after getting into an argument with Fizz.”
Minerva: “Your wife….”
Konrad: “Yes, so I decided to go outside and get some fresh air, look at the clear skies and then before I knew it, you were on the back of that guy who tried to hurt you. I care about you Minnie; I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Slowly sitting up, glaring into his eyes, I didn’t know quite how to take that. Was this old man hitting on me, or was this more of a father/daughter scenario? It didn’t feel uncomfortable, instead more opportunistic, this poor bastard had just had a fight with his wife, he needed some tender loving care. I was in no condition to do so, there was this feeling though, like I could use this for my own benefit, some would find this chivalrous, I find it avaricious on my part. Slap me, I’m a bad girl…
Minerva: “That is so sweet, how long was I out?”
Konrad: “About an hour, get some rest, I will be a few doors down if you need anything and don’t bring any strangers to your room, never know who it could be and they could end up hurting you badly, the last thing you want Minnie is to put yourself in this type of situation again, taking a big bump like that on your head could have led to something far worse.”
Minerva: “Konnie, Sexy Schnitzel, why are you doing this?”
I had to ask, more for my own musing, I wanted to hear it from his mouth and to feed my ego, hey let a girl have her moments….
Konrad: “I said the first day I met you, seeing a young and vibrant woman like yourself in the sport fresh off the bus was going to need some looking out for. I have been in the business long enough in-between my soccer, Moto GP, the traveling to my different homes, all my kids and grandkids, the training, and yes, even the coloring books and time with Fizz, I will always have time for you.”
What the fuck….
I simply stared at him after this, trying to decipher if he was lying, telling the truth or this was the first stages of Alzheimer’s….
Minerva: “Wow… that is like impressive….”
Didn’t know how else to answer, didn’t really want to say, yeah bullshit. I need to go further into this, does it mean he has money? Is he loaded? I have done far worse than him, he is at least clean cut and not all hairy and sweaty. Stop, maybe I do have a concussion. I smiled, thankful that he was able to help me out, I could have been left out there unconscious in the middle of the parking lot for any desert rat to have their way with me. Reaching over, I grabbed his hand and pulled him in some….
Minerva: “Don’t go, stay with me tonight, I don’t want to be alone.”
It was like I brightened his night, a smile formed on his face, nodding slowly. It wasn’t like he was trying to spoon me or anything, tucking me in, and laying on the couch, I invited him to the bed, padding it next to me slowly…
Minerva: “You can sleep on the bed with me, Konnie.”
Konrad: “No, that’s okay, I can sleep on the couch, besides, I won’t until you are and alright.”
How sweet, I was almost gushing, he really did care about me, so wondering what was next, well that answer was simple, to destroy his marriage, he was too good for Fizz, that much was true. As for Konrad himself, he had something I wanted….
… and it wasn’t his penis.
Florida everglades
Present Time
I kept my eyes closed, thinking back to the very moment I knew Konrad would be somewhat of a fixture in my life, but after I left WWH, we lost touch, I know he always kept tabs on me, old creepy German guys usually do, and since his marriage was shit four years ago, I figured it would be easy pickings from here. Coming to the SCW, I had one goal, okay maybe quite a few, but one in particular, and that was to make sure I ended the marriage with the Raab’s, and then have my own play at it. He’s my little toy now, I could do what I wish and never have to get my hands dirty doing it. I know that no one will ever understand my motivations, they don’t need to, I’m a woman who beats to her own drums, whatever I set my sights on, they become mine…
… And Konrad is going to help me.
As for my other plans?
Let’s just say it will only be a matter of time. I…..
Azalea: “Here, drink this.”
It was my aunt again with her ancient, spiritual Gypsy tea. Taking it from her hands, I sip it slowly, she had that gaze in her eyes, the same one my mother used to give me each time I was doing something wrong. She hated the idea of what I was doing with Konrad, what I did to Peyton Rice, what my obsession was with these heroes in the SCW.
Minerva: “What?”
Azalea: “I worry about you. Your father failed to do what your mother had asked. Destiny was a good woman, she wanted nothing but the best for you, but John, he lost his way as a Gypsy, it became a cult to him, Siobhan. He used it’s influence and power to wage war against the rest of society and poisoned your mind in doing so. You’re Romani royalty, not some Jezebel who touts around this poor old delusional fool and makes him do tricks like a dog or a pony.”
Minerva: “Don’t give me ideas.”
Dog or a pony, that actually sounds so ridiculously kinky it turns me on. She is right though, I am a Gypsy Princess, soon to be Queen but I don’t believe in that royalty shit, I believe in me and what I do that is best for Minerva….
Minerva: I have tried every other avenue, Auntie Azalea. I wanted to honor my mother’s wishes, but she wanted me to be some beauty queen. Fit into society like a square peg does to a circle and for what? These people will NEVER accept me for who I am, how I look or act, they have pissed on us for centuries, persecuted and tortured our people, and yet like in wrestling there are the families who have taken control and their legacies have become etched in stone. Why do you think I have targeted the Helms dynasty!? The Street Legacy!? You have no fucking idea how badly I want to turn the SCW into my own killing fields and I will, even if I have to drag Konrad in a leather outfit supped up with a zipper mask barking like a dog and riding him like a pony to do so! Auntie Azalea, this is only the beginning. WWH, GCW and EAW were only the beginning! I have plans, they are all working within this twisted brain of mine and when I am done? I will get my revenge for what they have done to me.”
Her eyes widened a little, she knew exactly what I was talking about and the mission I have been on since day one. Finally, I found allies in Kandis and Tommy Valentine, though the latter is hurt, and with Konrad as my little everything, I can do what I want, she needs to understand this because I know in due time….
My father is coming.
Azalea: “I have always supported you Siobhan, you are like my daughter, and I know how badly you want this. Yet you have a prophecy to uphold, remember that. I have your back little one, no matter what.”
Minerva: “I know.”
She stands, leaning over and kissing me on the forehead before walking back inside. I take a few moments to sip my tea before heading into the house as well, heading downstairs into my own private room, where I slip off my shoes and socks, stepping into my chamber, a Jackal mask encased in glass is on display, but my prize possession lies behind those doors, when I open and kneel in front of my little altar. Lighting the candles and essence, my eyes glare up at the many pictures I have of Konrad Raab, Chris Cannon, Peyton Rice, David, Regan, AJ and Jennifer Helms, Josh Hudson, The D’s, Pat Evans, Kelcey Wallace, Glory Braddock, Black Mason….. others including Owen Cruze…..
I cross him out with a red marker, like Peyton’s and Konrad’s picture, this is the start of my purgation, and when this is over, these names, the faces who have become legendary in the annuls of wrestling lore, those who have defecated on my existence….
… will perish within the wake of my rise.
I start to laugh a little before closing my eyes, lowering my head in silence…
… hearing their pleas of mercy ringing in my ears.
SCENE FADES
OLD WOUNDS, NEW SCARS
It has been four years since Minerva stepped into a wrestling ring and decided this was the career she wanted to undertake, where The Gypsy Moth could excel and one day appear in the SCW and while her start has been very slow in terms of action, outside the ring she has kept quite busy, first taking out sweetheart, Peyton Rice, secondly ruffling the feathers of so many that even the boss, Mr. D, returned with his own enforcers, Pat Evans and Josh Hudson. Minerva quickly took a liking to Kandis and Tommy Valentine, she found them to be unique, interesting characters who have always been them against the world, a mantra the gorgeous Gypsy has followed since her inception into the business. She is a world traveled athlete, a two-time World Champion in other organizations, a record breaker, the youngest to ever hold a World Title in the EAW, so many accolades that Minerva was destined to show up eventually here. She didn’t play around, picking fights that she knew would evolve after attacking the very popular and loved, Rice, but there was more to it than just that…
There was history between her family and Peyton.
It was a grudge that at some point would boil over, where Minerva would get her pound of flesh on Peyton, blaming her for the love and support her own father showed Rice when they both started at the same time in the SCW. Since those days, Minerva has waited patiently for the day to strike back, it finally came and she took her out of action until at least the end of the year if not longer, some even say this is career ending, but Peyton is a fighter, and her network is a very tight community. Minerva though has her eyes on something in the status quo which is much bigger now that Peyton is out of the way. Men like David Helms, Chris Cannon, Josh Hudson and others who have practically sold their soul for the company. She has manipulated Konrad Raab, broken up his marriage, turned him into a serving gimp, not forcefully either, he has submitted to her very whim. The young and fatal attraction known as Minerva sits on a red leather couch, she wears black leather pants and a black and orange cut off sleeveless halter top, spiked open toed heels, long orange hair hanging down, matte black polished nails with a black choker around her neck, in one hand a chain connected to a kneeling Konrad Raab draped in leather with a zipper mask on, the other an orange rose. She takes a moment to glare into the camera with her icy blue eyes, the room seems to be familiar to the last place she was at, a hug Jackal mask behind her in a glass casing and various Gypsy artifacts along with “toys” surrounding her.
REC:
The Gypsy Moth licks her pierced lips, speaking in a very eerie and calm tone…
“Injustice, Maltreatment or is it a dictatorship?
Seems like the common words I have associated the happenings to all this week with, when my name was mentioned, leading into situations that existed long before my inception into Supreme Championship Wrestling. Such haste and discomfort when talking about despotism and suffering. In an existence where everyone wants to be treated equal, the masses like to mix the circumstances outside the ring with what is unfolding now, the plight into one jumbled up mess. This is how so many within the confines of the SCW like to compare real life to their struggles, and yet when I basically look at an authoritarian regime sitting in the front offices of the promotion and the sport as a whole deciding who gets the press, who deserves the chance to elevate themselves further, and who will be let go, it comes easier to some more than others. In the climate and culture, we live in, I have stated a thousand times over that I am a woman who has felt the hate through degradation and shame, an ignominy people today have labeled receptive behavior, glaring down at the less fortunate, throwing them away like waste, this is where I had felt these hateful overtures and undertones, changing how my opinion about humanity as a whole, but the Professional Wrestling business never saw me in that way, they didn’t just label Minerva the poor trailer park trash Gypsy, instead I was also singled out as being different, where normally that is a good thing, but when you roam through a locker room with bombastic blondes and bodacious brunettes, with all their tanned model-esque bodies and money-making facial features, different isn’t very hard to obtain when you’re fair-skinned, pale in layman’s terms, had jet black hair and don’t have a six pack, yes my ass cheeks tend to jiggle, and my breasts are a C-Cup, I am neither voluptuous nor alluring unless the person has a fascination with goth chicks and the occult, but I am not trying to be anyone different from who I have stated since day one…
… I am still a female wrestler behind all of this.
My wrestling gear might be different, my hair color maybe brighter and now an orange tone, it still doesn’t change who I have ever been, the catharsis to every single woman on the roster. The most important aspect to all this, I have always been watching the SCW.
Since my time in the independents and other promotions, I have grown into my role, seized every opportunity that I can and those I have failed to attain, I patiently wait until the chance comes again. I stood right in the face of management, I called out every single self-entitled superstar in the companies traveled, I have never bitten my tongue and told it exactly how I saw it, and what happened? While some have tried to call it whining and complaining, the rest have followed suit, now showing signs of courage, for I didn’t give a damn if you fired me or not, broke ties or kicked my ass to the curve, I will always be a part of this sport….
…. But I said before, I will say it again, my home is wherever I damn well please.
That bothers most of you, for I can get away with anything, know why? I have never given a damn about consequences and punishment. I don’t need the long laundry list of accomplishments or the five-year tenure to make Minerva relevant. Had I taken Mr. D’s original offer almost three years ago, where sitting here now I could be like the rest of these bitches and throw my accolades in your face, but I will not do that, for I rather want the impression you believe there is a chance that I could be defeated and am nowhere on any of your levels. Hall of Fame, Main Event, Alumni, does it really matter?
Never in the grand scheme of things.
I came in to the SCW with one goal, to make my mark, to splash a little in the ocean of Supreme. Elitists like Josh Hudson, vigilantes and hired guns such as Pat Evans, icons who stand in the forefront as your heroes, the names David Helms and Chris Cannon come to mind, all stand for one purpose, a convoluted Kaleidoscope of memes and Dystopian rules created to keep them within the company line, toting the message loud and clear, yet looking at The Gypsy Moth thinking there are bigger fish to fry?
You’re right, maybe a bigger fish….
…. I’m a fucking Orca.”
With a wicked smirk on her face, Minerva’s icy blue eyes glance over at Konrad Raab for a moment, petting the top of his head gently, then turning back to the camera, licking her lips, thinking of the debauchery she could do on Breakdown. She continues to speak in her calm tone…
“I know what you are thinking that I am some watered-down version of a delusional trope chasing lizards, because if you haven’t found them in the last four years, what is the point? Maybe I came here to save this company from the stale drab and redundant content your fan base calls entertainment? I don’t need to scream and holler from the top of my lungs, instead I could gaze upon my target and simply make them my own, no cheap parlor tricks, no mannequin tossing out windows, just the charm of a Gypsy Woman that takes what she wants, and no one thus far has been able to stop her. Look at my new pet, Konrad Raab, here is a man who was tossed around this promotion, led to believe he would be a star one day when all the while as his back turned superstars made baby doctored pictures and beat his ass up dressed as a bear. I will be honest, he was a joke here and the punchline, never taken seriously, oppressed and held back by the same good guys who are supposed to carry the mantle of this company on their back, hoist the pillars up and maintain the foundation, poor Konrad here, my little pony was taken for granted.
So, I made sure to conform and turn him into something even I could want.
Look at my masterpiece, my muse, my Sexy Schnitzel.
He will do anything for me, absolutely ANYTHING. That is power, and he knows how genuine I am with my feelings, as you can see, I am the vice to his virtue. Marquis de Sade once said, “If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, then the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be.”, as you can see, Konrad Raab has been a very bad boy, but in doing so he is free, from the unreachable expectations thrown at him by the bourgeoisie and the elitists of this company. He is no longer your puppet, he’s mine, in act of violent pleasures which have their reward. As we all know, I made my first impressions in the SCW by attacking the only light of hope that was left, the woman who was responsible for bringing meaning into the redemption tale of Chris Cannon, she fought toe to toe with monsters and survived, one day destined to be a World Champion, it was in this very moment I took the opening to remind her and the viewers of the horrors which exist, ready to dethrone anyone from their Kingdom of Hope, shame really because I could relate to her, she didn’t deserve what I did to Peyton Rice, she should have been a United States Champion, held the torch for the rest to see how to do things in a manner with no shortcuts or malfeasance, the skullduggery which exists in it’s purest form in the SCW today. I want this to be an example as to why this happened, it shouldn’t have but I blame all of you, for turning your backs on the one true vision Mr. D and his favorite wrestler, Kelcey Wallace saw firsthand…
… the future.
This now belongs to me.
She is out of the picture, and the armies have lined up, Kandis should have been given her revenge, it never happened, so I took it upon myself to exact it, not just for her, more for me as my father, John Goddard decided to replace me with her, oh how the world works and the dysfunctional core we call family crumbles, look no further than Owen Cruze. I can tell they are feeling snubbed, Mr. D paying more attention to me more than the established villains and why?
He knows, I’m not only the new threat, but I’m also the most dangerous he has and with Kandis, Tommy Valentine who is hurt right now and my pet, we will turn this into our malicious playground. Let’s focus on the here and now, Pat Evans and Josh Hudson. I will start with Pat Evans, since he seemed to speak first, in a very dignified and illustrious way, in which I would actually be somewhat concerned had you were not given a 12-pack of Bud-Light and a Quart of Pork Fried Rice to join Mr. D in your soon to be futile attempts to stop me or my cohorts. Taking out Tommy Valentine, while a very good move, yes, Pat it was a mistake. The eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth mantra has always played a part in my belief system. Revenge while petty and this violence you spe4ak of, it is obvious not understood. I am not a neanderthal, though if you look at my history since entering this sport, I have been in more hardcore and death matches than anyone in this company, it means nothing really other than a blood lust I at times cannot control, this is the beauty of our little ordeal here, looking at violence as nothing more than a hill to die on? Why though Pat, think about it for a moment, why are we in this to begin with? While you don’t care about Peyton Rice, she is what brought you here, all at the hands of Mr. D, fear was the motivator, knowing full well that sooner rather than later I would step foot in the SCW…
… and here we are.
This is not about mere brutality, it’s such a pedestrian notion, what this is really about?
Purification.
I like to call it more the purging of the system, everything that you people want is going to be mine, ours. Think about it for a moment, this entire time we have been wrestling for respect, over four long years, well I am done with that. Now I want what they have, what you and Josh Hudson are defending, we will take it one by one. It isn’t extremely hard to fathom or understand why Kandis and I became friends, why I look at Tommy Valentine as THE pioneer, why Konrad would lick the mud off my feet if I commanded him to. Let me ask all of you a question, Mr. Evans and Mr. Hudson, what is more important? When history remembers do you want to be the one who never changed or wavered, always did things his or her way and had nothing to show for it, or the one that evolved, recognized there was a Genesis which didn’t take 7 days to build or no, it took merely hours to create and in this same procurement forged together some of the strongest and forgotten superstars in the SCW on this whole damn roster for one goal, one purpose and one cause….
To be the rejection to your norms.
The destruction of the foundation built to benefit you, NOT us.
Displaced, disrespected, discouraged all for the limelight, as The Big Ass and Jackass Connection were the team to defeat, Konrad Raab the absolute epitome of hard work and dedication and then me, the heart and soul of this profession, while trying our best to get whatever scraps were left, well now we are the ones serving your last supper with every intention of gorging and force feeding like you all did to us. First on the docket, is you, Pat Evans and Josh Hudson.
Money wasted by Mr. D.”
Extending out her hand, Konrad’s tongue slowly comes out behind the zipper, licking her hand as The Gypsy Moth begins to laugh. The joy doesn’t last too long though, glaring back at the camera with her icy blue eyes….
“Pat Evans is a mook, a man paid to deliver a service, nothing more. Josh Hudson on the other hand, I wonder when he will start to realize his legend will be tarnished, the excitement of his constant comebacks are saturated, and he has become nothing more than a man who is so desperately seeking his one more time in the spotlight, willing to sell his soul for the boss, becoming a drone, anything to get back in the good gracious of the SCW, only for selfish opportunity, the same sickening longing for relevancy, and here is a man I used to once look up to and idolize, tell me something Josh, how did your pursuit with Regan Street end? Or could it be the last time there was a World Championship match with Sienna Swann? What about your students or school? The constant failures must really become a burden on the psyche of a man used to winning, isn’t this how lore is created, tales of triumphs and torments, where there is smoke there is fire. Tell me something Josh, why are you really doing this? You don’t care about this company or anyone in it, all you care about is yourself.
Surely it is not about Tradition but killing it all in the name of one man, Mr. D, in return you get that LAST shot, how honorable.
Hasn’t this world been murdering the “established” practices on an everyday basis because it doesn’t fit in their belief, Mr. Hudson? What is cancel culture? What happens to those who do not follow in place with the so-called customs regulated throughout not only life but in the SCW itself? Define “Tradition” to me, explain what it is to the commoner in this promotion? You cannot, it has always been perception. Is this where another lesson on how to be successful in this sport plays a part? Will coach Josh Hudson once again grace us with words so powerful the upper management is masturbating over it so hard if it’s not their collective cock’s being yanked, its these legends and hall of famers with the typical tugging the SCW creed like the good pet monkey he is. Let’s strap on a diaper, call him George and make Tik-Tok videos of him every time SCW gives him an opportunity and he wastes it then preaches about how it’s all part of the business. The problem with Josh Hudson is people like him never amount to change, they don’t want to evolve, they cannot in a whim turn course and take another direction, this is the reason men like him disappear and reappear every blue moon. Hall of Fame? Sure. World Championships? Sure, but at what point does he realize that he’s simply another cog in the machine, fighting for the boss of a company with a single intention…
Keep everyone in order.
The good little boys and girls get all the press, the Main Event spots, the attention and opportunities to carry it on its back. Most of the time it has nothing to do with talent, and everything to do with obedience. There is no one more telling than Josh Hudson. We get accused of being antagonists, invaders, drinking the Kool-Aid, buying into Minerva’s vision when we all share the same views. Josh Hudson and Pat Evans are the silent majority; too frightened to stir the pot, wanting their reward. Minerva is the one who speaks her mind and damn if they hate me for it. No, when you start to understand how the game works, and know that NOTHING is going to be handed to the girl who isn’t a corporate instrument like you are, then I am forced to do whatever I can in my power to succeed, since Day 1, I have lived by a doctrine, suddenly I have become such a threat to the SCW, how convenient and true. All this hyperbole about how Konrad is stupid, a follower, how Kandis is ugly and Tommy is a simp, yet there is nothing you can say about me but to revert back to physical intimidation when if you look around Minerva, what pleases me most is a state of sadism so pungent it makes you think twice about who Minerva really is, for Josh, I have been the model of consistency my entire wrestling career, from the moment I walked into this until the moment I retire, and no, I’m not fading away, I’m not going anywhere, I’m not you, much as you hope I would, because truth be told, I don’t need to have a long-storied career kissing the brass’s ass and bootlicking every chance I get. I don’t want my Hall of Fame Induction to be out of pity, forced to the guy who has always been good…
But not great, yet submissive and compliant to their whim.
I’m on a different level, and soon everyone will see that.
Yes, I am the antithesis to your SCW, YOURS, not mine, we do not see eye to eye period and trust when I say this, I don’t care about your respect or anyone’s. I was never going to be their poster girl. Pat Evans wanted to test a theory, well I have one of my own, even you don’t believe what you’re fighting for anymore, your opinions don’t mean shit to me, and they might be music to the ears of the people in charge, it’s what you have always been good at Josh…
Playing the role of the most decorated sycophant this company has to offer.”
Slowly standing up, Konrad is on his fours, looking up at her, Minerva turns to him and smirks, biting down on her bottom lip before turning back to the camera, tilting her head…
“Pat Evans and Josh Hudson, what you’re looking at right now is inevitability, where there is nothing within your power or that of the boss which will stop Konrad and I from getting what we want…
And that is?
My Heaven becoming Your Hell.”
The Gypsy Moth starts to laugh, raising her foot as Konrad kisses it, slowly sneering at her opponents as the camera….
FADES TO BLACK
/REC
Minerva 