Jenny Myst and Sarina Hazard are hanging out around the XWF training facility. There are some undercard 'talents' training in the ring, some bigger names doing cardio and joking around near the table with the protein shakes, and some of Vinnie's minimum wage XWF facility staff handing out towels and water bottles.

Store brand. Thanks Vin.

Jenny comes out of the women's locker room with her wrestling spandex on and an XWF referee shirt. Of course, she has her title around her waist. She IS, afterall, THE champ.

"OH........EM.....GEEE" Sarina nearly squeals out.

"Do I rock this or what?"

"The Rolling Stones couldn't rock that harder!"

"Is that a compliment? Or....."

"Just take it...."

The two giggle a bit, as Jenny looks around for an open ring.

"I need to practice my ref skills," she says, "I have one helllll of a barnburner on my hands. Real can't-miss TV." She rolls her eyes.

"It's a shame I am going to choose that match to piss and make origami swans with Baphomet's Xeroxed selfies."

"I mean, it IS an Ash Quinn match, after all. I don't blame you. At least pop in for a few seconds.....and wait....he Xerox's himself? Like his face....or?"

"You don't wanna know. It was hard to see...."

"....I SEE what you did there....."


"How's THIS for the 'Best Ass in the XWF?!"

"Does she even use that tag line anymore?"

"Just shut up and compliment my ass!"

"There's too much to judge!"

Jenny turns around with a frowny face, and the two laugh again.

"I may even practice my ring announcing....." she grabs a mic.


"And here is your winner...............Nobody cares!"

Sarina spits out the water she was drinking.

"While I am here....I might as well cut a promo. I mean, I am the reason this putrid match is even on TV."

"Go for it."

*clears throat*

"So I have had a few days to sit and really put into perspective what happened on Savage. For one....I GOT A SHOE LINE, like, YAASSSS......but on the other hand, some crazy bitch who has never beaten me because she flat out can't beat me tried to turn me into Rocky Dennis with a blowtorch. She even singed my belt! Vinnie's cheap ass won't pay for it so I had to come out of pocket to make this belt look perfect again.....

.....But that is where I got to thinking. I had to go out of my way to fix this belt, but I also had to go out of my way to fix myself. I haven't always been the Queen you see today. I had to work at this. This level of sheer perfection, it doesn't just show up. It doesn't just appear one day. I have had to work my ass off to get here. That is why its beyond frustrating that this no talent hack and her new found friends think they can roll with the Queen. Goat boy and his band of misfits--because that's what they are, a bunch of sub par, one-win-between-them-all, misfits--thinks he can attack me during the biggest night of my professional career, in my home town, and I am just going to take it laying down. Either they are too busy chanting in tongue's around a sharpie-drawn pentagram and some dollar store candles to actually pay attention to what goes on here, or they really are that dense. I'm betting on the combination.

Let me put it this way.....when a war comes to the gate's of the Queen's kingdom, the Queen is going to go to war.

My entire life I have been a fighter, I've had to be. I have had to survive through some of the most horrific things imaginable. You think a handful of "Spirit Halloween" employees will be the the thing that makes me lay down my arms?

Think again.

There is nothing you can do to me that I haven't felt before. But I WILL be honest, because this isn't conjecture hour.....you did open my eyes. You did make me feel like maybe I am unsafe. Maybe I need to prepare better. Maybe I need to be a little more aware of my surroundings. Thank you for that. I'll even give you a slow clap.

*slow claps*

You got one over on me. Great job. Never again.

I went to the office and dealt with the smell, asking to be the ref for what should be a pre-show dark match, because I was promised two things. One, my perfect face WOULD be on TV, and two.......I got to decide the outcome and the decision was final. Ash Quinn's fate lies solely in my hands now. Do I wanna play dirty and screw her over, or stick it up her so called "best ass in the business" by calling it down the middle. The ONLY reason this is a discussion in my head is because she will probably lose the match anyway.

But that isn't what I want.

You see, Ash, I've figured you out already. I sat down and had a heart to heart with my six year old cousin, and we had a very similar take on exactly what makes Ash Quinn tick.

Desperation.

Ash, you need so badly to win matches because I do. You want to be me so bad, and every loss sends you deeper and deeper into that hole that you won't be able to crawl out of. Just remember, Ash, it's horizontal for attention, vertical for results.

You want so badly to be a commodity in the XWF landscape, but to this date that's all you've been, landscape. Mulch. Manure. Every loss sends you off on a locker room tangent, having a temper tantrum like a toddler in a grocery store (because that like ALWAYS happens, ugh so annoying), and forces you to try harder and harder. It forces you to do crazy shit like you did on Savage.

But a couple of wins in a row? Golly Gee Willickers, Batman! A couple of wins in a row and suddenly Ash begins to take her foot off the gas. She gets over confident, she gets complacent, and she becomes vulnerable. Ash gets some confidence, and that's when I can crush her hopes and dreams in one fell swoop. That is all you want, Ash, to be successful right? And you think Count Chocula over there is gonna be the diamond in the rough? More like the cubic zirconia in the garbage heap. Hey, optimism is good though, right?

So don't get your granny pannies in a bunch over lil ol' me, Ash. I am going to go out there, do my job and steal the show, like always. I'm gonna rock those stripes like their going out of fashion! But you better believe I have a backup plan. You try anything funny, and you'll be sorrier than your parents are for giving birth to you. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? You've never seen a woman quite like me. I didn't ask for this responsibility, but this responsibility lies solely on me. MY shoulders. I am the one who has to represent an entire group of women who has to fight that much harder to even get noticed. You think I'm gonna let XWF High's goth population bring me down?

I've said this quote before, and I'll say it again. You'll have to kill me first.

You want a punching bag? Why don't you look at my ex Chris Chaos. He seems to be the resident "Down the Clown" participant. Everybody line up, get your balls ready! Two throws for $.25!

My point here? Sure, I'll get to it. I tend to ramble when my adversaries make it juuuust tooooo eaaaasyyy to shred them like grated cheese. My point here is that I am going to represent the women's division with grace and civility. Taking a cheap shot and screwing Ash out of a match? That's something she would do, that's stooping to her level. Plus, this may be the first win she gets again in a long time. Why spoil that moment for her? I WANT her to win. I want her to win so when that smile comes, so that she knows what it feels like to string together two in a row. To be consistent....to actually, finally, win. Be a winner. I WANT that for her because then, when she flashes those pearly browns, she can lock her beady little eyes on me and in that moment.......as it all comes rushing back....she can know what it feels like....once again.....to lose.

Because she's a loser, and always will be as long as The Queen is in the castle......

Oh, and the other guy.....Sebastian Drake? Good luck, or....like...whatever.....I don't care."