The Red Queen was gently bobbing along the coast. The lost-and-found yacht of Sarah Lacklan had been through a lot – many an adventure had transpired between these port-and broadsides. Yet it was quiet now. No extravagant parties, no multitudes of guests, no burlesque shows or pirate themed roleplaying escapades.

As Angelica and her agent, Edith Seybold, climbed aboard, they were taken aback by the lack of activity. Not that Edith seemed to mind. The woman was all business all the time, and still had a dozen more things to deal with.

The pair walked along the portside, and Angelica grabbed the cold, metal rail as the wind breezed through her hair. Salt prickled her nose as she took a deep breath of the famous healthy sea air. It was a far cry from the farm life in the blistering Texan heat. Not that she wasn’t used to open waters. Growing up in Vancouver she had spent quite a bit of time near Boundary Bay or the Strait of Georgia.

As they arrived at the open deck, Edith sat herself down in one of the lounge chairs that the staff had conveniently placed. There was an ice bucket on a pedestal next to it, but no actual bottles. Probably a remnant from the night before. Edith snapped her fingers and motioned Angelica over, retrieving a document from the briefcase that always seemed glued to her hand. She put on her sunglasses and handed Angelica a big brown envelope.

”What’s this?” the leggy blonde of legend asked, sitting herself down as well.

”That,” Edith said, ”is a formal letter of apology to the Indian Cricket Association.”

As her cheeks flushed red, Angelica retrieved the letter from the envelope. Her mouth fell open and she turned the letter towards her agent.

”A letter of ap… But he was totes rude to me, Edi!”

”He’s also one of their most revered coaches, and they take cricket seriously there, Angelica. Imagine if someone were to stroll into Lacklanland and called wrestling ‘fake’ or ‘American Greco-Roman’. Would they not be insulted?”

Angelica sighed and took the pen that Edith handed her before signing her signature at the bottom.

”Fine, fine. I get your point. But courtesy is a two-way street, you know!”

”Political backlash isn’t. And the Indian market is humongous. I know you didn’t mean to, but upsetting them isn’t a great idea for your, and thus mine, cashflow.”

Edith put the letter back in her briefcase and checked her wristwatch.

””Where IS she? She told us to meet her on the main deck at precisely this time.”

”She’ll be here soon…”

And indeed. As if on cue, a familiar face emerged from the lower decks. Angelica jumped up with joy, running over for a well-deserved hug.

”KENZIIIIIIII!”

The CTN starlet, actress and singer extraordinaire, fellow #CoolKid and a phenomenal wrestler in her own right, Kenzi Grey. She knew by now that the best way to deal with an Angie hug was to let it happen. Something Roxy hadn’t yet mastered. It was like how you can survive a fall from ten storeys if you let your body go limp. It’s only when you stiffen up and try to resist that you can get seriously hurt.

”Ang! Sup!?”

The hug/stranglehold was soon released and Angelica looked over Kenzi’s shoulder.

”Where’s Sar-sar, I thought she’d be here too?”

Kenzi pulled up her nose.

”She had some stuff to tend to at the compound, and that place gives me the creeps. Especially when Bordy and that other dumb nasty ho are around.”

”Axshley? Yeah, she can be errrr… annoying.”

”That’s right. So I said thanks, but no thanks, I’m gonna chill out right here with sis and talk some business!”

Kenzi draped an arm over Angelica’s shoulder, who felt herself swell up with pride. She’d always looked up to Kenzi. In spite of a rocky start to their friendship, they’d gotten close over the years. And when Kenzi addressed her as ‘sis’, it made her feel recognized by someone not easily impressed. Of course, they technically were sisters-in-law, but she couldn’t remember Kenzi ever addressing Aveline as ‘mother’ or some such term.

”Yes! Business! That’s why I brought Edith. She does the business stuff very well.”

”Correct. I do. Seeing as my client would otherwise do 99% of her commitments ‘pro bono’, I think it’s wise I’m here for these things.”

”N-E-Ways, I was so excited when you reached out to me for another acting role! It’s been such a long time!! I’m glad CTN is doing new movies!”

”Well, I’m thinking about it. Gauging interest, etcetera. Starting with Silent But Deadly II! This time I ain’t getting disrespected in my own damn movie! And you’d make a great antagonist!”

”Antag… But that means I’d be the bad guy! Again! You know I don’t like playing the bad guy!”

”But you’re so good at it!”

”Un-true!”

”True-true. You’re great at it, because it’s what people expect the least. You were awesome as the bad cop in CooLA Noire. Besides, you always do this lowkey heel shit.”

”I do not!!”

”And your face is like the fifth most punchable face I know!”

”Hey! Mean AND un-true!”

Angelica put her hands on her hips. Kenzi had a tendency to compliment you by insulting you. A rare gift.

”Naw, definitely top 5. Fuckin’ Claire, Ashley, Bordy and some other nasty ass skank ho definitely got you beat. Oh, and that dude who punched a goose. So top 6. Best I can do, sis.”

”Fine, but let’s talk compensation.”

”Sheee-it, woman, I don’t decide those numbers! Ang’s my girl, she’ll get paid.”

”Whatevs! Did you decide on a script yet? Because I had a few ideas for Silent, But Deadly 2! See, it all starts on a cold, rainy night! Two jilted lovers, one of them you, exit a Mexican restaurant and get into the car to drive home. Then SUDDENLY! The doors lock! Oh noes! What’s going on, am I right? They want to call for help, but… their phone batteries died! Then, the rumblings begin and…”

”Hey, NO SPOILERS! Besides, I already have a script, but that sounds like a great idea for a spin-off, Ang. Silent But Deadly: Fartaclysm!”

”What? Ew! Who said anything about farts?”

”I thought it was heavily implied that…”

”No no noes! See, what was gonna happen is that…”

”NO SPOILERS!”

”Fine! Then I guess I’ll be your villain if you want me so bad to be the bad guy like in that Billie Eilish song!”

”Sweet! Then I can ask Rox to be the hero’s best friend!”

”Oh COME ON!”

Kenzi raised an eyebrow.

”Ang… I know what I’m doing, sis. Trust me. It’s better this way. You know how that saying goes… take a leap of faith?”

”Oh, I know it. I’ve been thinking about nothing else these past few days. You know how scared how am of heights.”

”Oh right. You’re in that match. Well, Ang… It’s true, heights terrify you. In fact, a lot of things do… Heights… Depths… Confined spaces. Open spaces. Upward pointing mirrors. Alcohol free beer. Dogs.”

”Yeah, yeah,…”

”Sports cars. Still water. Bubble wrap. Artificial food flavoring. Crypto currencies.”

”Yeah, I get it!”

”…bamboo shoots. Day-old sushi. Trapeze artists. Cotton swabs. Nose hair.”

”I SAID I GET IT!!!”

”Stretch marks. Splinters. Polka dotted boxer shorts.”

”HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT??”

”Liposuction remains. Umbrellas with a straight handle. Broccoli. Curdled soy milk. Geckos.”

”KENZI!!!!”

”Fine! Look, the point is this, Ang: you’re scared of a lot of stuff but you always persevere and do what you gotta do anyway. That makes you one of the bravest people I know.”

And poof. One sentence that wiped out all other things that had been said. Angelica felt her back straighten and her shoulder rise. She was beaming with pride.

”You really think so?”

”Hell yeah! That shit Vinnie got you doing at Leap of Faith… man, sometimes I’m glad I’m retired. …somewhat retired… A lesser woman would’ve cut the cord and ran away. And you Lacklans may be crazy as fuck, but you don’t back down from a challenge. It’s why I ended up marrying one, I guess.”

”I… see.”

Angelica had to actively stop herself from ugly-crying, because it was during moments like these that Kenzi felt like an actual sister. She was hard on Angie, but she loved her. So much. Kenzi noticed Angie fighting the tears and rolled her eyes.

”Come on, Ang! Cut it out!”

”BUT I CAN’T!”

Meanwhile, Edith had been brought a glass and a bottle of champagne by one of the onboard servants, which was now comfortably resting in aforementioned ice bucket. She had gotten used to these kinds of antics after several years of having Angelica Vaughn as a client.

”IF YOU WILL EXCUSE ME FOR A SECOND…”

And a tearful Angelica ran off below decks… Kenzi looked over at Edith sipping some champagne and sighed.

”Fuckin’ white people…”

---

---

From the lower decks of the Red Queen, where the WiFi is still impeccable…

”Fear… Fear is a funny thing. A scary thing. A weird thing. Fear, especially of failure and humiliation, can often cause such tunnel vision that we don’t even notice it when we actually succeed.

See, ever since this match was announced, I’ve been thinking… why me? Why was I chosen for this, with the owner fully aware of how scared to death I am of most heights? Was it a prank? Is it payback? Is he just gleefully wringing his hands, looking forward to seeing me fail so I can prop the others up a bit?

Because it’s a scary prospect. I like visualizing my matches before they happen, and more often than not, I end up with a scenario where I go *splat*. And it’s not an enticing one. It makes me want to just give up, call Vinnie on his bluff and admit that I can’t do this. But I think I just realized… and I will allow myself this rather arrogant presumption… that I am here because I earned it. Because I’ve been succeeding in what I’ve been doing.

I’m not here to pad someone else’s stats or make them look good. I’m here to compete and pose an actual threat to every other competitor in this match. I am in it to win it. Because I can. In spite of my weaknesses, in spite of my fears, in spite of the incredibly high level of opposition, I am in this match because I deserve to be. I’ve gone toe to toe and even bested some of the opponents in this literal climb to the top. Why shouldn’t I be convinced that I can do this? Why should they not be scared of ME?

Matches like these all come down to mindset anyway, right? We’re all physically gifted. We all work very hard. But if you start a suicide mission while distracted, without utter conviction… you will fail. And for me, that sort of struggle is often all too real. But I’m also very lucky that I have friends who believe in me and help me realize my worth. I’ve never been able to do that by just looking in the mirror. My upbringing is to blame for that, no doubt. Always being told you’re never good enough is something you’ll eventually repeat to yourself when you’re all alone. But I’m not alone. And I never will be. And that’s why I’m probably the single most blessed out of all six competitors in this match. Speaking of…

Mister Flynnmeister general, you called me a craven, which I guess isn’t the WORST c-word I’ve ever been called. But it just might be the most ridiculous. And self-aggrandizing? Sheesh. Tell me you don’t know anything about me without telling me you don’t know anything about me, why don’t you! I’ve fought tooth, claw and nail, or… whatever the expression is… to get to where I am. And I’ve overcome more fears than I care to count. And you know who has always been my toughest opponent? Myself. It’s been a constant struggle to convince myself that I belong, and that I’m worthy. So if you call me self-aggrandizing, then I guess it’s because I’ve always had to be? Arrogance and pride don’t come as naturally to me as they come to others. And you know what? I’m not ashamed of that. Meanwhile, you can go back to beating a dead horse with a stick. I’m sure it’s very entertaining to the three people who pay attention to you.

A fair few more people pay attention to Bobby Burps. I call him that because his insults are so infantile he sounds like a baby who just had too much formula. But once you look past the cheap buzzwords, fecal matter comparisons and edgy catchphrases, there is a phenomenal competitor there. It’s clear you don’t think much of me, Bobby. I don’t mind. In fact, I’d very much prefer it if you go into this match thinking my kicks or strikes won’t hurt you. I won’t make that same mistake because I see what you’re worth once the bell rings. As for you dismissing my friends, well… I’m not opposed to a #CoolKids, with hashtag thank you very much, versus Tee Enn Gee Bee match. We’ll set it up some day, kay? I relish the challenge already. But until that day comes, you can keep underestimating me. I bet you won’t do it again after Leap of Faith.

Who else is there? Oh, right. The Marfenomenal One. Get it? Sounds like ‘morphenomenal’… Power Rangers… ….no?... Well, apologies, folks, my puns can’t all be zingers. Unlike my kicks, those very much ARE zingers. And I’ve got a few lined up for you. Just like with bullets, in the very near future there are some delightfully snappy kicks with your name on them. And what a name. I know I just blamed Flynn for beating a dead horse with a stick so I don’t want to repeat his clear and obvious silly mistake, but my goodness… I hate that that is all I’ve got on you, but it’s like the elephant in the room every time I think of you. Imagine if you’re shopping for groceries and suddenly, right there in between the parsnips, you see a leprechaun juggling kernels of corn. Would you not address that? I know I would. I’d ask it questions like: ‘Hello mister leprechaun sir, where are you from? What’s your name? What are you doing, and why? Is it true about that pot of gold at the end of a rainbow? Do you like Guinness?’ Etcetera! So don’t blame me for that! It’s only natural.

On a much more pleasant and positive note however, I’d like to thank our dear Vitamin V for her words! I am, like, totes humbled by what you said about me. Calling me a sleeper and all that? It was classy. See, that’s what I like about you, Veev. You’re not prideful. You don’t stubbornly stick with an opinion that you know was sorta silly to begin with. Most people are, but you rise above that. Unlike some others in this match, you don’t beat a dead horse with a stick. You… might drain its veins but I guess that’s totes okies since it was kinda dead already? N-E-Ways, there are plenty of people I truly respect who swear by you, and it’s easy to see why. And while we’re on the subject of pride, I have to add that the thing I’m most proud of during my time in the XWF is beating you. Because I know the level of competition you provide week in, week out. I’m in awe of you, Vita. I really mean that. I’ve faced some challenges in my lifetime, but the stuff you’ve had to endure and overcome… I don’t know, I feel like it could’ve sent many others over the edge and in a downward spiral. Which, no offense, is kind of what I hope will happen to you at Leap of Faith. And something I will actively try to make happen. There will be no clever sharpshooter reversals in this match, after all. No sneaky trickbits. Just six of the world’s best, with only one goal in mind.

And speaking of one of the world’s best, that brings us to the last competitor here. Raion Kido. Now, I know you like to use metaphors, mister Lion Kid sir, but… Did it have to be rain? Rain is the worst! The actual, literal worst! I can’t stand rain like Annie Kim Sky Walkers can’t stand sand! Rain is cold and annoying and ruins everything! It forms puddles in your basement and ruins the foundations of everything you’re gunning for! And it’s clear that this m atch means everything to you, and is your gateway to the glory we all desperately crave. It should be. But I’m going to have to rain of your parade, Raion. You may not believe I can beat you, but in reality… I don’t have to beat you to win this match. I just have to be faster, and smarter. No easy task when facing a lion, but I know a thing or two about handling felines. And I know that desperation causes mistakes in the minds of the overeager. And to all of your credit, you totes fit that description to a tee.

I’ll be seeing all of you this Sunday, and I can’t wait. Can’t wait to leap, and overcome not just all of you, but also myself. Toodles and kittens, and never forget:”


-END BROADCAST-