Media

[cooltubesource]

And ANOTHER thing! I-

wait

wait

Hold on, the nurse is back. Un moment, kiddos.

…………………………

………………………..

What? NO, my Beloved will most certainly NOT accept a meal with meat in it! My wife is VEGAN! Or at least, she used to be. Listen, I don’t care what the kitchen sends, my wife’s needs are FAR more important than this SHITTY hospital! Now you go BACK down to that rat’s den you call a kitchen and you DEMAND that my wife receives the vegan meal that I DEMAND, do you hear me?!

………………………….

………………………….

Sorry about that, Baby Birds! This HORRENDOUS staff at this GODAWFUL hospital in ol’ Chi-Town is the WORST. Honestly, my wife, my Beloved, the reason for MY being, has been held up ALL NIGHT due to the HEINOUS actions of one Phrixus Deimos, and you would think that a SIMPLE request for a vegan meal made with ingredients which have been supplied with three (preferably more!) independent proofs of their organic and non-GMO nature would be EASY, since we are, like, frequent visitors to this place, but NO! APPARENTLY its TOO HARD for these SIMPLETONS to follow SIMPLE orders! UGH. I have had to ask to see a manager, like, six times already. And each time they come in here with the WRONG ORDER, the darling light of my life loses her place in her Slutty Vampire Chronicles smut novels and has to start over and-

Damnit, Sar! That’s not what they are called! They are The Teen Vampire Chronicles and you know that!

Teen Vampire...Slutty Vampire...same difference!

There IS a difference!

Whatevs...wives are the worst...

What was that?

Nothing, pumpkin!

N-E-Ways, we are HERE because of that naughty combination of Deimos and Rydell, two “legends” of this hear squared circle, who average out to a win in once every three or four tries, attempting to recapture some of that long-ago glory. They will, as per usual, have a shot of muted brilliance for a week or two (like beating up a team that probs shouldn’t be here in the first place!) and then will get crushed under the weight of excellence that is #HalfOfTeamJellyBeanToes4Life in the near future. As for myself, I’ll be mixing it up with a couple of dudes in the midcard (more on them in a few days!) while my Beloved drags Roxy to yet ANOTHER victory in the main event, just like this past week.

COOO! COOO!

Oh, hold on. Got a tweet I need to look at...

SIGH

Freakin’ Johnny. Listen, old man, and I KNOW that you ARE watching this thing, for the last time: I’m not worried about what a member of the ring crew has to say about me, okay?

wut

Hmmmm?

What about a member of the ring crew?

Oh! Talking about Raaaaaaaaaaaaab. I don’t really care what a rookie going on 53 putting the ropes up every week has to say about the World Heavyweight Champion.

Um...he’s not part of the ring crew?

Oh, please. There is no way that our roster would support a man near natural death to wrestle almost 50 times in the last year and a half...while only winning 30% of the time...without him having to do things like secure the ropes and place the ring steps along with other flunkies like that Anime-obsessed troupe, Draco, and NBK. Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaab probably even sells the popcorn and takes tickets. N-E-Ways, the POINT is that such an unbearable loser shouldn’t be opening his mouth and having my name in it unless he’s begging and pleading for an opportunity to be one of the people holding up my robe as I walk out to the ring, and even THEN he would probably trip on it and fall on his face. And it makes, like, a bajillion percent sense that Old Man Johnny would find solace in the words of another resident of Loserville.

N-E-Ways, I’m going to have to cut this short, Baby Birds. I have a LOT of media to do as YOUR World’s Champion of the next few days. I have done a TON already in my first week as the woman carrying the rock, and I’ll have more to do before I am able to lay this caramel beauty down comfortably on some silk sheets made from 100% organically-fed free-range silkworms at home. MOST people would buckle under the pressure of the media attention. MOST people would fall from how much they have to do as the UGWC World Heavyweight Champion. Hell, the PREVIOUS champ DID! “One-and-Done, bb” shirts are already being made for the shop! But this pressure? These responsibilities as THE World Champion?

I was literally born for it.

---

---

“Well, fuck ME in the goat ass!” Sarah’s Londoner voice was full of exasperation as she stands before the very, VERY closed cafe. Dressed in a gown of black and gold, the skirts filled with tiny gold spiderwebs crawling down the pleats, she seems an angry black whole on an otherwise sunny day. “Honestly, this is simply unacceptable and I WILL see the manager about this.”

“Oh my gosh...I am SO sorry!” Standing next to her, Sloane Taylor’s brightness seems muted by her companion. The cutie’s pink hair flows down her shoulders, obscuring the UGWC lettering over the swell of her curves, and the hands sheepishly in the pockets of her white pants adding to the message of sorry and remorse in her voice. “I had no idea that they were closed on Tuesdays! I usually come here for lunch before Synergy!”

In the distance, the cackle of Kenzi Grey-Lacklan can be heard from the backseat of the Uber the three had ordered for the occasion. Sloane shoots an even more sheepish look at the car before turning her eyes back to Sarah, but they widen when they see her angrily punching numbers into her cell phone.

“Siri! Find me the STUPID manager of this STUPID cafe RIGHT THIS SECOND!”

“What are you-?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

Sloane opens her mouth to speak again but shuts it as Sarah growls and holds the phone out, one of her brightly painted fingernails tapping on the speaker button and then holds another to the Cooperative Champion. After a few moments, the albino’s face breaks out into her Billion $$$ Smile as they hear a ringing phone.

“...hello?” asks a groggy voice on the other end. Sarah’s smile gains a hint of malice as she turns her attention to the phone.

“HIIIIII-iiiiiii! This is Sarah Selena Grey-Lacklan…”

As Sarah strikes a pose and flips her platinum hair back, Sloane silently mouths “MARKETING GENIUS,” and opens her eyes wide as she finds out that the rhetoric has changed.

“...WORLD’S CHAMPION...and I am HERE to eat at YOUR restaurant and found that it is closed for some UNGODLY reason! I humbly...HUMBLY, I say...request that you open up for myself, my Beloved, and a very very special guest. Thank you so much!”

Sloane blinks in confusion as Sarah shuts off her phone and places it back into her purse.

“Sarah, I don’t think that’s going to-”

Sarah holds up her hand, this time all five fingers splayed out. She then pulls down one of them to show four fingers. Then down to three. Sloane turns her head as the sound of tires squealing fill the air and several cars speed toward them and slam on their breaks on the side of the street. Car doors open as men and women scramble from the cars in a flash, each pulling on pants or adjusting a shirt as they scamper towards the doors of the cafe. Before long, the doors are opened, two men are helping Kenzi out of the car and gently limping toward the door, and the three UGWC Champions are being escorted into the building. Sloane’s eyes are still wide with disbelief as she looks at Sarah’s smug smile.

“...how?”

Sarah gives Sloane a small wink as waiters rush to serve them.

“It’s good to be the Queen.”

The three laugh over many topics as they enjoy the meal, from shared experiences as WrestleStock Cup Champions to the pressures of Cooperative Championship matches to the oddity that is misunderstood intentions. Sarah made a scene about making sure that her eggs were “triple cage free,” whatever that meant, Kenzi shamelessly ordered a side of watermelon, and Sloane found herself ordering the pan-roasted chicken for the seventh time in a row. All three found themselves giggling toward the end, a sign of a little too much wine drunken, and terribly cheap beer for Kenzi, of course, and Sloane found herself confused when Sarah took a picture of a waiter.

“What’s that for?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I’m sending a pic of that cute boy to Angie. I’ve decided that it’s time for her to date.”

Sloane raises an eyebrow at her while Kenzi shakes her head.

“It’s none of your business, babe.”

“It is ALL of my business!”

Sarah turns back to Sloane and gives her another wink.

“We have been close to Angie for over two years and not ONCE have I seen her go on a proper date! Bitch is probs so clogged up that she’s going to explode if I don’t help her out!”

Sloane blinks several times as Kenzi gives her a flat stare. Sarah offers another wink to Sloane while blatantly ignore Kenzi’s stare.

“I’ve already told Angie that woman cannot live on Hitachi alone!”

Unfortunately for Sloane, she had taken an inappropriate time to take a drink from her glass. The cry of “SARAH!” from Kenzi found itself playing accompaniment to Sloane choking and spluttering her drink onto the table before them, her cheeks turning red from Sarah’s brazen words. She waves away a concerned waiter as Sarah giggles while sending the picture to her friend. Sloane takes a few seconds to compose herself but then her face falls as she looks out the window of the cafe and sees a horde of people with cameras, each with their eyes on the lone trio in the restaurant.

“You okay?”

Sloane breathes out a sigh at Sarah’s question and then shakes her head.

“No, not really.”

She points to the group of people.

“Paparazzi.”

Sarah rolls her eyes as Kenzi shrugs her shoulders.

“Nothing new to us. Kinda what we do, ya know?”

Sloane grimaces at Sarah and shakes her head.

“But look at them. That isn’t a wrestling crowd. There here for me. Or Sheridan, anyway.”

Sarah’s eyes open wide behind her glasses as understanding dawns on her face. Sloane grimaces again at the crowd.

“I should go. Maybe they can let me out the back door and-”

She cuts off as Sarah places a hand atop hers. A gentle hand.

“There is something I have been meaning to talk to you about, axly.”

Sarah chews on her lips for a moment and places her hand atop Sloane’s.

“Listen, I know that we’re about the same age and all, but I have a LOT of life experience in this business. I grew up in it! Daddy was a world class wrestler. My Godfather was a journalist. Most of Daddy’s…whores...were some kind of valet or some such. Step-Mumsie...the less you know about her, the better...is a wrestler. All of my friends are in the business, outside of one or two. Hell, I was a valet myself for a few years while I was training! And in all that time, while watching everyone around me...and taking a LOT of notes, as you know I am wont to do...I learned a valuable lesson:

“Don’t let your life outside of wrestling bleed into the ring.”

Sarah turns her gaze to the growing mob outside of the cafe.

“Our lives are extremely public, which is a cost of doing business. And we all make mistakes that hurt us in the ring. Perhaps we partied too hard the night before and enter the ring less than sober. Or we get carried away with side projects and don’t spend enough time in the gym. Or maybe do things like spend so much time screwing around with graphics and videos that we forget to record our promotional videos.”

Next to her, Kenzi’s caramel cheeks turn a shade of purple for some unknown reason.

“Regardless of the nature of the distraction, they CAN cause very unfortunate things to happen inside the ring, and all too often, not just to us, but to the people we love.”

She turns from the window and looks at Sloane.

“Two years ago, I allowed a situation in my personal life to escalate to the point where great harm was done. Not just to me, but to my family, my friends, and my business. It wan’t just ME sitting in a wheelchair for six months, Sloane. It was Kenzi taking care of me intimately. It was Angie, and even Rox a time or two, helping me when they could. It was the Coalition losing their newly-crowned Cross Hemisphere Champion. It was Donovan Hastings having to scramble to make sure that Horizons, and all of the fans coming to the show, were not set into disarray. There were a LOT of people affected by what happened around me OUTSIDE of the business, and it took many, MANY months for that to be set aright. And I fear that you and Seb are headed that direction.”

She pats Sloane’s hand for a second before removing them to take up her wine glass again for a drink.

“The two of you are wonderful competitors, particularly when allowed to play off one another’s strengths and weaknesses, but the chaos swirling around the two of you is already having an effect. I was SHOCKED that YOU did not make it into the Championship Round at Outlast. SHOCKED. And I FIRMLY believe it is because of your distractions outside of the ring. And I am seeing the same thing from Seb.”

She pauses for a drink.

“Seb is powerful and throws suplexes like I rarely see. Intelligent. Smart. Witty. Suave. And, as we have discussed, quite the scoundrel. But he makes mistakes outside the ring that bleed into the ring, and that is a MASSIVE liability. We have already seen Tasha in our ring...and while SOME people at this table are #TeamTasha for some reason…”

She shoots Kenzi a quick scowl, which is returned in kind.

“...the only thing I care about is the distraction she causes. I know that if she’s around, Seb is too busy worrying about her...and the chaos she causes...to focus on what is important. And people WILL capitalize on that distraction. People WILL use Tasha to get to him, to throw him out of his gameplan, and use that opportunity to take him down. And not just people, Sloane. But people at this table.”

She takes another drink but doesn’t take her eyes from Sloane.

“I will take advantage. I am the World’s Champion for a reason. I am precise. I am cunning. And I always have a plan. Several of them, axly. And I WILL take advantage of Seb’s distractions on Monday, should they present themselves. Hell, I’ll take advantage of them before, during, and after the match, if I can! It’s what I do.”

She reaches down into her purse and pulls out a notebook. She waves it in the air and gives a small smile.

“You mentioned the other day that I write a lot of notes, and I responded that you have no idea. Its not just a silly bit on Twitter or in Digital Pigeons. Kenzi can attest that we have a room FULL of my various notebooks-”

“...nerd...”

“-and I have plenty in here about you. And Seb. And Zane. And Angie. And everyone in our company. I am ALWAYS prepared to take advantage of my opponent’s shortcomings, and in the case of Seb, that abs includes distractions and outside influences.”

She taps the notebook with her finger.

“I have no worry in telling you of my gameplan for Monday. Eliminate Seb so that I can then take out Zane for the win. And all it takes is a single mistake from Seb, a single moment where he is distracted, a single time where Tasha becomes more important that victory, and he’ll find himself a nonfactor in the outcome of the match.”

She puts her notebook back in her purse and looks back at the crowd of modern day reporters. She gives Sloane a smile when she turns back to her.

“You ready?”

After a moment, Sloane nods.

---

---

From the moment Burke’s hand hit the mat for the third time on the evening of September 23rd, Sarah’s life had been a constantly flashing burst of activity. She didn’t remember much from that night, as her head had been lost in a cloud of heat that dulled both sense and memory, but she did know that she has pressed her stiletto heeled foot down on the gas pedal and had not yet pulled it off. The entire trinity of UGWC interviewers, the mass that was Coppi, Malone, and Reeves, all tried to get a word with her, each throwing out questions in hope of getting the break from the new champion, but Sarah had been pulled into a private dressing room by Kenzi so that she could breathe. But after that moment, one soft moment of unrelenting tears as she openly wept in her wife’s arms while clutching her championship, she was available to the world.

KOMG, YOUR go-to station for ALL things combat sports, sitting here with the NEW UGWC World’s Heavyweight Champion IN studio! Let’s hear it for Sarah Lacklan!

In the car and being driven off to a studio. Rushed out and hurried through the building, her makeup being put on by an assistant, her own hands polishing the UGWC Championship’s plate with a soft cloth, before putting on a set of headphones and plopping down into a seat.

www.thewrestlingsheet.nome with an EXCLUSIVE interview with the NEW “World’s Champion” Sarah Lacklan. Swipe right to continue reading

Flying in a plane, Kenzi asleep next to her, and talking on a phone, the First Class accommodations provided to the World Champion allowing her to travel, eat, and world all at the same time. Some man in another state on the other end off the phone, asking questions, receiving answers, his partner typing away for a transcript to be published within the hour.

Click HERE to read the UGWC World Heavyweight Champion’s TOP TEN thoughts on who her first challenger should be! You won’t BELIEVE who number six is!

Headphones on, hair pulled into a thick braid to bounce across her back, designer Nike running shoes on her feet, a sweaty Sarah provides thoughts to another reporter who is deft enough to get snarky responses from the exercising World Champion. The sound of a woman sighing in ecstasy makes her turn her eyes down to the Apple Watch on her arm and she sees that the text is, course, from the person who made her buy the dumb smart watch in the first place:

Dat Chaotic Booty

Pssssssst! You wanna go with me to Ikea to shop for a Casting Couch?

Sarah barks out laughter at the “sext” from her wife. As she had told Sloane before, one of the tenants of their relationship, literally one of their vows, was to provide a lifetime of frustration and annoyance. A lifetime of laughter and fun. And Kenzi’s “sexts” were an example of that vow. Kenzi delighted in sending her these little messages during all of the media they had been doing the last two weeks, preferably in the middle of answering a questions, just like she did now. They were a mixture of silliness, dumb statements, ridiculousness, and the occasional legitimate promise of something deep and steamy that made her blush in front of whoever she was talking to in a way that she felt as if her cheeks had been set aflame.

The TOOOOOUKAAAAAAN RETSUUUUUDEEEEEEEEEN Podcast, covering any and all things Puroresu, welcomes UGWC World Champion, and future DTW Deathmatch Carnival Participant, onto the air

In the black and white kimono she bought during her honeymoon two years prior, Sarah's curves pushed the material to its ends, the extra weight she had put on in the last year showing itself pleasantly. She had been thrilled to see that her scale weight was up to 140 pounds, an additional five pounds of muscle in her legs over the last several months, the dividend of her tireless efforts since returning to full-time wrestling in February of 2019. She discussed the differences between the strict rules of MMA and the generally "lawlessness" of professional wrestling, and how she preferred the latter over the former. 

Pissbaby Magazine (Co-Editors S. Carver and J. Edwards) Feature Article: Sarah Lacklan and the shocking reality of what it means to actually “win” matches, whatever THAT means

Exhausted at 3 in the morning, Sarah's eyes drooped heavily as she ranted and raved over the importance of winning matches to what amounted to the two dullest "keyboard warriors" she had ever dealt with before. The two fought her over her position, as they themselves were fans of Dave Rydell, Patron Saint of the aforementioned Keyboard Warriors, and their position, argued long into the night, was that trying REALLY HARD and REALLY WANTING to win was all that mattered. She disagreed. Shocking, we know.

Pigeon Wranglers Daily with a three-hour interview on how ThiccBoi Pigeon Feed, endorsed by the World Champion’s flock of carrier pigeons and produced by Texas-based STA Ranch, and how it helped her reach the top of the Wrestling World

Covered head to toe in the fluffy white feathers of her flock, Sarah joyfully spoke of the importance of pets, animal companions, and fur-babies. She grew quiet for a time when it was suggested that fur-babies were better than real babies, anyway, and the awkward silence grew on the farm as people remembered that, just a year prior, she had learned of her own inability to have children. Thankfully, a gaggle of children wearing pigeon suits joined the interview, ready to perform their rendition of Vaughnamous (all in Pigeon coos, obvs), and the Billion $$$ Smile returned to the champion.

Interview after interview after interview. Silly ones filled with laughter and jokes about her friends and peers, serious ones about crashes, break-ups, and deaths in the family. Interviews where Sarah was dressed in her “Firestarter” clothes made of fine silks with high necks and diamond dust sprinkled in spider web designs, and some where she wore simple track pants and the newest #CoolKids t-shirt. Interviews where she spoke about the state of wrestling and the UGWC’s place in the world and interviews where she played games and had to walk along a balance been while wearing a Kem suit.

In the role as the face of UGWC, Sarah Grey-Lacklan was tireless and unstoppable. But all throughout the two weeks, something gnawed at the back of her mind, something that made her chew her lips in concerned thought whenever she had a moment to rest. Interview after interview, from pimply-faced teens with their iPhones in airports to high-budget syndicated talk shows, the same sentiment was repeated by all:

Genuine thankfulness that the UGWC World Heavyweight Champion had made time to see and talk to them.

“We haven’t seen the UGWC Champion in months! Not since Angie Vaughn came through?”

In those rare moments of quiet contemplation, Sarah wonders what the hell Roxy Cotton was doing in the 42 days SHE had been the champion.

Dat Chaotic Booty

I double dog dare you to change your display name to "Kenzi's PAWG" I might make it worth your while.

Sarah had no idea what THAT meant, but she wasn't about to disappoint Kenzi or back away from a dare!

---

---

Sarah’s eyes are blurry behind her glasses as the exhaustion sets in. She knows she’s tired. Knows she could use a break. Knows that tomorrow, a lengthy Sunday at home with her beautiful wife and menagerie at their West Hollywood home, was going to be a joyful sabbath. But there was one final interview, one final bit of media. And in her exhaustion, while feeling every bit of her tiredness behind her blurry eyes, she knows that this MUST be a mistake. She was the UGWC World Heavyweight Champion. She was the XWF Tag Team Champion alongside Kenzi and the very face of the Anarchy brand as THEIR champion. And while she had done some insane interviews over the course of the week, nothing quite could have prepared her for this.

“-and let me make one thing….PERFECTLY CLEAR! I-”

Sarah tries to blink away the confusion in her eyes. She holds them shut for several seconds and lets out a deep sigh when she opens them and sees that her interviewer has not changed, her location has not changed, her life has not changed.

“...why, back in MY day, I-”

Sarah averts her eyes from the man in the chair and instead takes in the room around her again. Dingy and poorly lit, the studio apartment in New Jersey had been turned into a small recording studio, but not anything like she had ever seen before. Wires were all over the place, becoming a dizzying maze of complexity, and while she did not have much experience with undomesticated rodents, she was pretty sure many of them had rat bites. Which would make sense, she supposes, since she is also pretty sure that the tiny pebbles in the corners of the room are rat droppings. Behind the man is a wall of trophies, but not one she herself would ever find pride in. The face of a certain orange-tinted Candaiian loudmouth is everywhere, from posters and dolls to replicas of championships and plaques.

“-and then, as I had that DASTARDLY dwarf in my hands, he KICKED me in the balls like a NE’ER-DO-WELL and I had to-”

Dressed in a high-necked gown of silver and blue, the UGWC World Heavyweight Championship on her lap, Sarah shines like a diamond in the dark room. Her marshmallow perfume, a favorite of her wife’s, valiantly fights off the stench of old cheese that permeates around her, and her deep sigh of resignation at this final interview of the week is droned out by the man’s unending words.

“-and that is how I met your-”

“Oh, for fucks’ sake!”

Sarah throws up her hands as she turns back towards her interviewer. Wearing the outfit of the Masked Mauler, one of the many MANY names that Johnny Bonecrusher has wrestled under during his 67-year career, Billy Facestomper was a sight to be seen. “The #1 Hitmaker’s #1 Fan” had spent the entirety of the last hour regaling Sarah with tales of his own “career” as a professional wrestler...all two matches...repeated over and over again...but the Firestarter has finally had enough.

“Listen, I get it, alright? I get it! We ALL get it!”

She looks around the room again and waves her hands in the air.

“What the hell IS all of this?! The only reason I agreed to this STUPID interview was because my (non-spouse) bee eff eff Angie has a soft spot for you Supreme Jersey guys! Christ, even the NAME of this show is gross!”

She narrows her eyes at the face of Johnny Bonecrusher on the man’s microphone and a shudder of revulsion fills her body.

“You have, like, three minutes left, buddy. Use them or lose them!”

Billy blinks behind his mask several times as he ruffles through his papers. He decides to toss away his dissertation on his first match, which he truly thought would be an eye-opening experience full of sound advice for this young wrestler, and instead holds up a small card.

“Right to it, then!”

Sarah lets out a seething breath.

“...yes...right to it...57 minutes later…”

Billy ignores the danger in Sarah’s voice and waves the card around in the air.

“Speaking as a TRUE veteran of wrestling-”

He also ignores a scoff from Sarah that would make Holden nod his head in appreciation.

“-I have to say that I don’t think that you or Sebastion Everett-Bryce-”

5’10” BAY-BAY

The third!

“-are going to be able to handle Zane Scott in your match on Monday! He’s the veteran of the match! Of the COMPANY! And back in MY day, we treated veterans with respect! And if I were you, I would-”

“Bitch, please.”

The sudden cold malice in Sarah’s voice is soft but it stops the masked interviewer mid-sentence. Sarah’s red-hued eyes fill with that same cold malice and a small smile curls the corners of her thickly painted lips.

“Let me tell you about Zane Scott.”

She crosses her legs, the World Championship rising into view for a second, before settling down.

“Zane recently spoke about how no one really understands him. How all of the newer bodies within the Coalition, myself and my friends, for instance, do not understand why he is so insistent on being coldly professional. That we don’t understand WHY he was called things like ‘The Personification of Hate.’ But like in many things, Zane is wrong.

“You see, from the moment I stepped into this company nearly two and a half years ago, I have established the importance of research. I have established how important it is to ME personally, as well as those who stand with my House. I often know FAR more about my opponents when I step into that ring than they could ever hope to guess, and it often pays off in victory for me. And Zane is someone who I know a LOT about, though his ego and pissbaby attitude seems to blind him of that. For instance, I know all ABOUT the company when HE was in his prime. I wasn’t watching or anything at the time...I was busy working as Daddy’s valet through much of the Coalition’s middling years...but my tape-watching, if I may make up that word, is expansive.

“For instance, I am FULLY aware that a LOT of the time Zane was either on top or fighting to be there featuring a LOT of chaos in the main events of Synergy. I mean, we’re talking about everyone getting involved, 100 ‘finishing’ moves being thrown at each other, arms being broken, souls being ripped from their bodies, dump trucks being thrown on top of one another, Jesus riding his Pogo stick WAY too often, and people getting to 99% DEATH at the hands of their murderous peers every fucking week. ALL of which simply lead to the SAME people showing up the NEXT week without a SINGLE scratch on them! It was a time of craxiness and lawlessness and way way way WAY WAY WAY over-complicated interpersonal relationships among the roster. It was, for the lack of a more tender word, a whole lot of ‘horseshit.’

“Zane will, of course, be the first to tell me that us kids today don’t understand or respect the veterans. And to that, I say ‘Bitch, please.’ I am WELL aware that Zane is one of those ‘you will NEVER be better than even a TENTH of what I accomplished in FIVE DAYS of my career!’ guys, but thankfully for the world of wrestling, his delusions are easily disproved.”

She holds up one of her gloved fingers.

“Zane PROMISED that I would NEVER be the World’s Champion. His ENTIRE desire going into Grand Slam was to make sure that I was NOT a Captain for Outlast. He failed.”

She holds up a second finger.

“Zane PROMISED that, should we meet in the championship round of Outlasts, I would be eliminated because I was not WORTHY of being the champion. He got NOWHERE even NEAR the championship round. I, on the other hand-”

She holds up her other hand and extends a finger.

“Made a plan. First, beat Zane to become a Captain.”

A second finger.

“Assemble a team of help me get to the championship round. Regrettably, SOMEONE decided to fuck with my plan and draft my Beloved out from under me, but-”

A third finger.

“I developed my team, which was Plan B, to be the best they could be in their role. Many MANY people blew off Lisa Seldon, because they didn’t know her name, and those same people watched in stupid shock as she laid out that waste of space Kate with a Man Opener and nearly did the same to Jet. In the end, I got through to the championship round with one of my teammates in tow.”

A fourth finger.

“The second half of the plan came into play. Three #CoolKids in the final round and a BEATDOWN of that goat-faced jobber occurred, and then we settled down into making sure it got down to just two #CoolKids, me and Roxy.”

Her thumb.

“And I won.”

She takes her hands down and pulls up the championship belt.

“My plan, six weeks of work, came to fruition. And along the way, Zane Scott found nothing but loss and excuses for his own table. While I sup on earned victory, the only sustenance he can find are the empty words of a man proven so wholly incorrect that he has to retreat into his shell and try to deflect his own failings with ‘No! No! I’m this way because I WANT to be!’ His latest endeavor of ‘I’m the professional’ is just another shitty take in a sea of them this year. From saying he give away the title if he ever lucked into it, to failing upward for a shot at it anyway, to getting MAD ONLINE at my wife all year, to getting his ass WHOOPED by me, to looking into the mirror and seeing his own ineptitude, to now crying out that he is going to ‘evolve, Zane Scott’s 2019 is naught but a pile of rubbish. Sure, it started pretty great, but then he had to face off against the soaring #CoolKids and found himself floundering. Especially when he found himself having to face off against the woman who giggled while bashing a cinder block into his head last year. And Synergy is going to be the same.

“Zane Scott does NOT get who I am. He does NOT get what I represent or how I work. He is someone who is so hung up on how things USED to be that he has completely lost sight of how things ARE. The exact same thing happened to Eden when she burst onto the scene a few years ago and ruled the roost, the same thing happened to Lucy when she took away Zane’s title, the same thing happened to Angie when she dethroned Vain. The REALITY is that I and my compatriots do not IGNORE the past but we IMPROVE upon it, and the fact that Zane has put on his blinders to the REALITY of today is what has lead to such a dismal second half of the year. And I, as HIS World’s Champion, am going to LOVE reminding him of that fact when I toss Seb to the outside, blast Zane with a Shining Wizard, and pin him in the ring AGAIN.”

She smiles fully now, all Billion $$$s shining.

“And hey, maybe Ichy will be kind and book him against TMZ in a tag match or something so that he can pick up a win and feel better about himself.”

She gives Billy Facecrusher a final exaggerated wink.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would LOVE to head home and FINALLY get some sleep! Being YOUR World’s Champion is exhausting!”