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Jenny Myst · (03-07-2018)

"The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."

The XWF Management team, whoever they may be, has put Jenny Myst in a Triple Threat Match for a belt she never deserved to lose, and expected her to have a chance to come out on top.

They must be insane.

Insane to think that Jenny Myst, who by the way as still YET to be pinned in a Bombshell Match that didn't come with a distraction, a special referee and the numbers stacked against her. Myst has yet to lose clean in the Bombshell discussion.......but this match wasn't clean was it?

Who expected her to win a match where she doesn't have to lose to actually lose? We've seen this story before.

Insane.

Jenny sat in the back of her limo, on her way to the condo once she landed back in Tampa. She knew Chris was going to be celebrating his Television Title victory, and rubbing in her face that she didn't get the job done. He was a duck, but she loved him. Pushed him harder to be her best than anyone else. As she looked out of the dark tinted windows at the flat Florida landscape, she thoughtr about the end game and it made her smile.

All of the things she had done for this company, this division, that title. Mandii could knock it all she wanted, but Jenny had made that title, had made women's wrestling, relevant again. Call her what you wish, but her 'accomplishments' here have made the Bombshell division interesting. Laying her head back on the leather coushioned seat, she smiled to herself once again, through the massive pain her body was in, as she thought about the end game. When this division was created, it was a way to keep Jenny out of the Universal Title picture because of the threat she posed. This was a way to appease her and keep her out of people's hair. BUT ALSO, it was a way to make women's wrestling potent again. Roxy, as much of a cunt as she is, knew what she was doing. Maybe there is a small hint of brain cell behind that helicopter pad forehead she sports. She knew what she was going. Roxy saw the end game. She saw a match like this playing out. Time and time again she brought back old talent in an attempt to drum up ratings. Who could beat Jenny Myst. Who could take out the Queen? Abigail came back, and ultimately, she failed. She now sits on the unemployment line. The Sugay Sisters, who have traveled the world and have wrestled in more federations than they are intelligent enough to count on their fingers, and they ultimately failed. Miss Michelle, back again after some time off. She put up a valiant fight, but she ultimately failed. Roxy's end game was to make Jenny run the gautlet, because that is what people wanted to see.

But Mandii Rider, she is a different breed. She didn't have the shiny pink outfits and the million dollar smile that Michelle possessed. Hell, Mandii looked like a mug shot, even in her good photos. Rough a tumble, that is her kink. Mandii didn't have the all black leather Batwoman suit that Abigail sported. She didn't look like an extra on the Jersey Shore like the Sugay Sisters. No, she looked like the typical high school goth cutter who put out at parties so she didn't get bullied at school. This was a perfect mix. Jenny with her manicured nails and dyed tips. Mandii with her self harm scars and shotty tattoo work. This was a match made in heaven. A ratings gold mine.

Roxy knew what she was doing, because she saw the end game.

Now, the rest was in Jenny's hands. Roxy had provided the fuel, now Jenny just needed to provide the match to light the spark.

Apex was dead and buried, Empire was on its way up. Mandii was a thorn in the side, at most, but people enjoyed it. Jenny closed her eyes and felt a sense of pride.

You know you have made it when people tune in more to see you lose than to see you win.

When you are on top of the world, people want to bring you down. They pray for your downfall. The world is a jealous and petty place. Not everyone could be as pretty as Jenny, as brutally intelligent, as tough, or as cunning as Jenny. Not everyone could look, feel, smell and act like her. In fact, more people in this white trash uptopia we call a nation could relate to Mandii. You could see someone like Mandii Rider in a Wal-Mart on a Saturday afternoon, pushing a cart in the food section and racking up points on her government assitance card. You didn't see a Jenny Myst every day. She had created a monster, and now the pitchfork wielding mob was on their way.

End Game. That is what it is all about. When it is all said and done, the lights have turned off and Vinnie has sold his bitcoin stocks for half of a dollar and retired to his camper to live in his bandanna wrapped glory, what would people remember about the XWF? Would they remember that Madison Dyson was a neurotic sociopath with an affinity for pain? Would they remember that Jim Caedus cashed in his Money in the Bank briefcase against Gabe Reno, making him stamp his feet and cry in the corner only to return two months later and lose to Chris Chaos? Would they remember The Engineer being crowned King of the XWF only for Vinnie to take it back? Remember the Kings whose reign was shorter than Elliot Spitzer's senate term?

No.

They would remember Jenny Myst and how she went from being simple eye candy in short skirts with a pair of Hooters worthy ta-ta's, to the single greatest female wrestler ever to put on a sparky pair of leather boyshorts.

Why?

Because Jenny Myst IS the End Game. Jenny Myst will either build or destroy women's wrestling, depending on her mood. Jenny has tasted the sweet nectar of glory once, held it for a few months, but now wants so much more. The weight has been lifted, the pressure is off, the looking over her shoulder for Roxy's next chess move is over. Jenny can now do whatever the hell she wants.

Who was she fooling? She could anyway.

And she will.

She was building and Empire that would burn this company to the ground and re-build it in a sexy shade of pink.

Mandii Rider was the flavor of the week, but without Jenny Myst there would be no Mandii Rider.........

Mandii Rider was the champion for now......

But in a strange way, that was okay. It was all part of the plan. The end game.

The limo rolled up to the front gates of Belle Harbor and the driver punched them in. Today was the first day of the rest of her career, and she would be damned if she let Mandii ruin her good time.

As the door opened, Megan was standing there with her clipboard and a tray of coffee's. Jenny smiled, actually happy to see the young publicist for once.

"Caramel Swirl, just the way you like" said Megan with a nervous smile, half expecting Jenny to snap.

Taking the coffee, and sipping it, Jenny swallowed with an audible "ahh".

"It is a beautiful day, Megan. 85 degrees, ice blue sky. It is also spring break. Go---mingle, hang out, hook up, do whatever. I am giving you the day off."

Megan looked at her taken aback. Day off? Did this mean she was in trouble?

"Jen....I.....whatever I did, I didn't mean to........"

Jenny put an arm around the younger girls shoulder, and it bumped her glasses, pushing them up a little into her face.

"Megan.......go out, have fun, hell, don't even use protection. Take a load, maybe you won't be so uptight all the time."

Megan couldn't believe her ears. She still thought she was in trouble somehow.

"Jen....I can't do that. It is spring break, god knows what these guys have.........."

Jenny cut her off.

"Why worry about something that can kill you in ten years, when there are so many things out there that can kill you today?"

Megan looked at her for a moment, shocked.

"Go out, get knocked up, dance naked on a bar, get arrested. You're young, you will make mistakes, you will learn from them. As long as you have a bigger goal in mind, an end game, it doesn't matter what happens in between."

Megan dropped her shoulders, she immediately felt looser---and if Jenny had her way, it would be more than just emotionally.

"So go.....have fun. I am going to. Just be back here tomorrow, ready to work. We have Mandii Rider film to watch. She can't beat me, hasn't beat me, won't beat me, so why should I feel bad that she has the belt? She has no idea wnat is coming her way this week..........."

Megan smiled, handing Jenny the clipboard and letting previously bunned hair down, flowing in its auburn glory around her shoulders.

"Does this look good?"

"Perfection" Jenny said with a wink.

"So what did I tell you? Mandii Rider was going to pin Jessalyn, take the easy way out, and call herself a champion when she didn't beat the true champion. I hit two Pink Perfections, one through an announce table and one on Jessalyn in the dead center of the ring. Bullseye. But what does Mandii do? What any other unqualified, unproven, bush league paper "champion" would do, she pins the weakest link. She takes the easy way out yet has the audacity to come out and say she poured her blood sweat and tears into this division? No, no, no, no, no.....pump the breaks there hot sauce....you poured your blood sweat and tears into taking the easy way out. You showed the world that you are nothing but a pestilent coward, a shiny, polished turd wrapped in a nice bow with some gloss. You can put lipstick on anything and make it pretty Mandii, it doesn't mean that it is anything but a turd with lipstick.

I just find it funny....haha, humorous...that you claim that your "accomplishments" in your short time back make you truly a champion. I just find it funny that the dark, brooding, tough bitch persona gets dropped at the blink of an eye and the red carpet pop star that is all smiles comes out. Happy Mandii......yuck. Cheerleader Mandii. Donate it to charity Mandii. Little girl at a sleepover Mandii. It isn't a good look. You're right, we did tear the house down. We did get bumped to the main event and we proved that we two, the women of this company, are indeed the life blood. The fuel that keeps the engine churning. We did that, and we proved that this company needs a woman's touch. However, Mandii, if I knew you were going to go all Joel Ostein on me, get all motivational speaker on me, I would have done a better job of ripping your vocal chords out of your throat. You see Mandii, you showed your true colors. I am not going to sit here and lie and say that you are nothing--even though you have flipped the script and now seem to want to suck my ass like a low budget porn video--but I am sure as shit not going to say you are a champion yet. Why? Well, it is simple, not rocket science. Let me break it down to you like this............

You

Haven't

Beaten

ME

For

That

Title

And you never will. Nobody said that division is useless, and nobody said that belt is useless. We all have our strategies about how we want to rule our kingdoms, and all of us have different opinions on what is "right." I chose to go the dictatorship way. I said it before and I will say it again, this divison doesn't need a hero, a white knight, a cheerleader. This division needs stability, control, and dominance. You see, you got a mulligan from management. You got a title shot because there was nobody else left. Jessalyn was added to the match because there is noone else left. You got into the Main Event, lets face it, because of me. If this was a Bombshell Title match against anyone else, LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE, it would have been in the first hour. Mid card, tops. You know it sister.

I am glad I opened your eyes, but it shouldn't be a tough match against me that makes you want to try, Mandii. It shouldn't be the ass kicking of a lifetime that you barely escaped via a booking technicality to realize that you should give it your all. You should do that all the time, because that is what champions do. Further proving my point that you are nothing more than a place holder. You are keeping that title warm until I am ready to take it from you. Mandii, you are so narrow focused. I think in decades, not in hours and minutes. I have the bigger goal in mind. You see, you came away as the Bombshell Champion by pinning the XWF's version of scrap metal, while I took part in effectively killing the legacy of Jim Caedus. You walked away with a piece of metal, and I walked away with part of a company-changing moment. You shined up the title real nice, called all of your goth friends and shrieked together like teens at a pet store, and put it in your bag. I ended and era and became the puppet master of what is going to be the most dominant stable to ever grace professional wrestling. That is the difference with you and I, Mandii, I always have an end game. I always have a plan B. You put all your eggs in one basket, gave everything you have to defeat me, and you still didn't get the job done. You got put through an announce table, were the first one busted open, and took a beating worse than Apollo in Rocky 4, and all you managed to do by giving it your "all" was take advantage of a bad situation. I knew you were gonna do it. I knew you were going to do everything you could to get out of this match with the material prize. Call it me one upping you, sure, but at the end of the night everyone is going to remember Jenny Myst. Half of this roster probably doesn't even know you spell your name with those stupid double I's.

THAT is the difference.

The end game. You see, I am going to be here for a long time. I have, and always will, surrounded myself with the best talent possible. You just don't see the bigger picture, and I find that adorable. So while you are droaning on with your prom queen acceptance speech, I am already back at the hotel getting my rocks off. I am always a step ahead, and always will be.

But Mandii Rider is the Bombshell Champion.

When I am ready to take the belt from you, best believe I will. I see you wormed your way into this match being non-title. Also adorable, truly. You probably think that is because you're soooooo good aren't you? You probably are patting yourself on the back for that too, telling yourself how good you are and how you deserve this. What happened, Mandii? You win a title and NOW you're humble? You're going the wrong direction, sweetie. I liked you a whole hell of a lot more when you were the truck stop wench with the tatted arms and barbecue sauce for eye liner. Now, I think you are just as bad as any of these bimbos who come in here and win once match and think they are deserving of a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I'll admit you can take a beating in the ring, and you can hang in there when the going gets tough, but my respect for you is waning. So congrats, Mandii. you're the Bombshell Champion. You're only competition is ME. Welcome to the hell that I have faced. Lets see how enthusiastic you are when you have to face me time and time and time again because the next best competition is a few notches above a cadaver. You just locked yourself into a division that is currently a dead end, courtesy of yours truly. Good luck ever moving up, moving on, and being something. You are the head of a dead division, and I knew it was coming from a mile away.

I saw it all.

I saw this playing out.

Why? End game. I saw the bigger picture. Mandii Riders big return culminated into a title she never wanted, in a division she'd never been in, and what does she have to show for it?

A purple and yellow mass of metal and leather that doesn't even look good with her skin tone.

You made it to the top of this division in only a few weeks. Now you think you're untouchable. Hustle hard, stay humble, because you never truly know what you've got until its gone.

Snatched.

Poof.

Maybe you should focus more on being like Mandii Rider and less like Mandy Moore.

JENNY WAS HERE

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