So, I told XWF management to book me as a wrestler — being sure to bring attention to the fact that I literally don't know how to wrestle — and they actually did it. The absolute madmen. Not that I'm honestly surprised. The only reason I even bothered with this little experiment in the first place was to prove a point: XWF management just wants bodies for the meat grinder. They don't give a shit whether any of the people they throw to the wolves know what they're doing, just that they're there.
I have to say though, that the match they booked me in did come as a bit of a shock. I'm not a wrestler, I've never even been in a fight, and yet I have the opportunity to become a champion in my professional wrestling debut. Isn't that mental? That I can just drop in all willy-nilly and get afforded the same opportunity as Jessalyn Hart on her little redemption tour. Jeez, Arzegotti wishes he could so thoroughly bury someone else's feel good story.
Don't worry, Jessalyn. I wouldn't dare steal your moment from you. Hell, I may not even make it to the arena. Why would I? I don't know how to wrestle and I have no desire to fluke my way into winning a belt that was created to satiate Jenny Myst's inferiority-superiority complex. I bet they can't even get her stench off the damn thing — which, considering I've never been in the same room as the nerd, I can only assume smells like soiled bedsheets and salt.
So I guess this whole thing, in a roundabout way, is an apology. I'm sorry, Nyx. I'm sorry, Jessalyn. Oh, listen to me talk. I'm apologizing for something that really isn't my fault in the first place.
Hey, Nyx. I got a question for you, hunty. How does it feel being the champion of a division so fucking niche that they had to throw in a non-wrestler just to alleviate the tedium of a rematch no one asked for? It's a shame that this belt even exists, isn't it? A real short-sighted hotshotting decision, but of course hindsight is 20/20 and here we are. Doing the song and dance routine. I suppose if I were really coming for your throat, this is the part where I drag you through the mud. Where I tell you that I despise you and everything you stand for. That I'm going to penetrate you with my boot or some other edgy dreck.
I'm not going to do that. I feel that maybe, the fact that we're having this conversation is the most damaging blow I can throw in this little exchange of words. I don't take you for some raving, arrogant loon, but if you were all I'd have to do is play the not-a-wrestler card like my name was Supa Hot Fire and knock the wind right out of your sails. Face it, hunty, you're Isabella Ravenwolf but better. And while that's a compliment (I guess), it does little to mitigate the fact that your biggest defense to date is against the same gremlin looking not-a-dyke™ you've already beaten and someone who's never been in a physical confrontation in her life.
I'm going to keep highlighting that second point because I'm making a point.
That has to sting, doesn't it? Knowing that perpetual choke artist Jenny Myst has a match deemed more important than yours? Any competitor has to take that as a slight. Hell, if you were my client I'd be mad for you. Honestly, I'm already mad for you without any kind of professional relationship.
It sucks, but those are the breaks.
Switching gears a bit, hey Jessalyn.
Is this what you wanted? What you've been begging for? My mouth is open and my focus is on you. Do you want me to exhume your skeletons, show I've done my homework, and that I know more about you than you do me? Is this what you've been begging for?
Do you need me to bring up that you're like, 0 for 3 when it comes to Bombshell title shots? You've choked away so many undeserved opportunities, I'm not entirely unconvinced that you're just Jenny Myst in drag. But you know that, don't you? That's what this whole redemption arc is about, right?
You finally doing the thing. And you look at me and you see a threat to that narrative, don't you? That's why you're so concerned about what Nyx and I are doing, isn't it? Has to be, otherwise you're just nosy and that's pretty fucking rude all things considered.
Don't worry, Jessie. I'm not your enemy. I'm not a threat. At least, not physically. But, think about it, girl. What if you pull this one off? What if I actually come down to the ring and you batter me senseless before pinning me and taking what you feel is rightfully yours?
Can't you hear it already? You beat the girl who could barely defend herself, yadda yadda. You wouldn't have the credibility of a champion. And while you can puff out your chest and act like that wouldn't faze you, we both know it would.
And remember, they deemed me worthy of the same opportunity you got.
So, let me do you a solid, and remove myself from the equation. I'll just stand there, and I won't bother you. Or Nyx. I'll let you two have the rematch you two ought to have because this belt means about as much to me as it does to XWF management.
See ya, girls.
(Oh and also if you ever want representation so you can avoid booking scenarios like this in the future, you know who to call. Look at what I've been able to secure for Finn since I became his agent. Food for thought.)
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