On-Camera via XWF Film Crew
December 11th, 2020

“Geri, baby, a word of advice: Always be careful what you wish for.”

Betsy Granger appears on the screen, being followed by several camera crew for XWF. She’s currently walking her older poodle, Muppet, who is playing happily in the snow. It’s a bright, sunny day. The snow on the ground is melting and people are out enjoying the respite to the bitter cold.

“I have to be honest, I’m amazed you even accepted the challenge I threw down. You talk a lot of smack for someone who’s biggest accomplishment to date is beating Atara Themis one time. Count it Geri, one singular moment in the sun before you were back in the shadows of irrelevancy where you belong.

I have to admit, after the Shooting Star Championship, you were just a blip on my radar. There, and aware of you, but not an impending threat. My focus was on putting things to rights with Jenny and the Shooting Star Title. Hell, I even have a bigger score to settle with Ash for knocking me the fuck out before I could finish what I was doing. But you…”

Betsy turns and gives the camera a sly smile.

“You are a special kind of annoying. You, who don’t even deserve a shot at that belt before me, and yet here you are, butting to the front of the line. Atara Themis, who earned her shot at being number one contender, isn’t getting first dibs. What the fuck makes you so special that you get to jump to the front?”

Her temper flares for a moment, showing briefly on her face and disappearing just as quickly.

“It’s fine, I’m good, I’m cool. If I have to go through every woman on this roster, one by one, to regain my shot at what is technically mine, I will. I made Jenny Myst tap out. Not you, and certainly not Ash Quinn. I’m not sure Ash even knew what she was doing most of the time. She’s scrappy, I’ll give her that. But at the end of the day, she’s just a confused little girl trying to find her footing in an industry she doesn’t belong in. She tries to chime in with her views, trying to sneak her way to the front of the line. But the big girls… We push her right back. Poor Ash, she can’t stop us from doing so.

Then there’s you, who somehow managed to weasel her way into a title bid, despite not even landing a pinfall on the champ that night. I’m guessing seniority has its advantages. Or... “

Betsy grins wickedly.

“There’s the distinct possibility that Jenny only accepted that match because she knows how quickly she’ll be able to wash her hands of you.

Jenny Myst is not my favorite person. Hell, none of you in that four corners were. But she claims she’s the best in the business for a reason. The woman packs a wallop. Some of her methods were on the nefarious side, but so were some of yours and Ash’s, so I can’t hate on it too hard. But there is no denying that she’s good. Is she the best? Nah, not even close, but she’s getting there. The problem for her, and the rest of you is simply this:

I’m better.”

She turns away so that only her blonde curls, white hat, and jacket can be seen. Muppet has moved along to a tree and begins leaving his calling card.

“I proved that I’m better when I made Myst tap out that night. I continue to prove I’m better every time I get back into the ring. Fun fact: Tonight, I’m going to earn that thirtieth entry spot for the GCWA Righteous Rumble. And that’s a triple threat… Bookers just can’t get enough of seeing me throw around more than one body at a time. One of my opponents, her name is Kylie Moore. I bring this up because you two have a remarkably similar way of going about things. I’ve been noticing a pattern with girls like the two of you.

First, you try to get into my head. Your attempts at filling me with self-doubt continue to remain futile. I’ve been around politicians and businessmen who would say the same garbage you spout: I’m nothing. I’ll never be anything. I should quit. I’m garbage, I’m worthless. I don’t belong here.

I did to them exactly what I plan to do with you.”

Betsy runs her finger over her mouth as one would do across their throat.

“You have an awful lot to say and a shoddy record at best of backing it up. You bit off more than you could chew just by accepting this fight, but now you want to throw it into the confines of a steel cage? I mean, that’s fine by me and I’m looking forward to getting you in there. I just can’t help but wonder why you would do something so stupid.”

She sits down gracefully on a bench and reaches into her bag. She sets a small water dish on the ground and begins to fill it. Muppet lolls over and begins lapping it up.

“Honestly, I’d take the lazy route I’ve seen the other’s take and blame your pot habit, but that would be extremely hypocritical. It’s not like you’re the only stoner around here.” Betsy points to herself and nods. “Oh yeah, right here. I just don’t smoke so much of it that it distorts my reality. It’s medicinal most days, a way to slow down my powerfully over-active brain. Being a bonafide genius has its advantages, but there are a few downsides that no one likes to talk about.”

Pondering this for a moment, she pets the top of the dog’s head. He sits at her feet and licks her hand, staring up at her, brown eyes filled with love.

“It’s also why I like to fight, I think. Everything I’ve ever done has been cerebral, calculated. Being in the ring is the first time I’ve been able to use less of my mental prowess and let my other instincts and skills kick in. It’s primal, what we do, and doesn’t involve too much thought, as evidenced by you, Ash Quinn, and Jenny Myst being considered anywhere near ‘top tier’. You’re top tier, alright, top tier next to the PBR cans your average fan displays as trophy’s for his cousin lovers.”

A few minutes have passed and Muppet begins pulling on the leash again. Betsy giggles and put the dish back into her bag and rises. They continue their journey.

“So why did you pick a cage to have this match in? I’m burning with curiosity over this one. Are you that afraid Atara is going to come out and try to interfere on my behalf?” Betsy breaks out into scornful laughter. “All three of us know that I don’t need Atty to help me fight my battles. It’s reassuring, of course, knowing she does have my back if the occasion calls for it. But this… You and I… Not one of those times.

I figure Jenny Myst plays a role in your snap decision as well. Girl, it really must suck living on that level of paranoia. You’re spending too much time looking over your shoulder for who might sneak up on you, that the brick wall your running towards is coming on faster than you think. FYI, it’s me, I’m the brick walls and your collision course is set.

Once the cage door closes, there’s nowhere to go but up, Geri. And that’s bad news for you because up is my specialty. I’ve been farther up and around than you realize; much further than you could even know.”

Off-Camera
Time and Location Unknown

The landing is rough and Betsy rolls across the platform several times before managing a stop. She sits up and takes in her setting, one she hadn’t seen in quite some time. The last time she’d been on Ayabeya, she was still a wide-eyed companion, clinging to the hand of Jon Smithee. Today, she arrived as a solo traveler to meet with the crowned Prince of this world. Guards were approaching swiftly as she got to her feet.

Two impossibly tall, imposing males were marching towards her. If one weren’t accustomed to the type of traveling Betsy was, their overall appearance would shock you. Not only did they stand at well over seven feet, but their skin was also an incredible shade of forest green. Their “hair” consisted of leafy vines. Their appendages were longer to compensate for their great height. Both of these men ate their Wheaties in the morning and worked out twice a day. Eyes that produced a golden glow never left her as they rushed forward. They were dressed in silver military tunics, their ornate copper armor clanking as they moved.

But it was none of this that had Betsy staring warily at them. It was the seemingly wooden spears each one held pointed at her. Slowly, she lifts her hands above her head and stands her ground. “Talclius, Marasia, is that you guys? Your Prince is expecting me.”

Her voice causes both men to lower their spears as they finally reach her. “Betsy?” The one called Marasia drops his guard completely now and rushes up to Betsy, scooping her up in a big hug that lifts her off the ground. Betsy laughs as he spins her around wildly before putting her back on her feet. Still giggling, she turns to greet Talclius, who is much more dignified with his greeting, taking her hand, and bowing before her, placing a gentle kiss upon her wrist.

“Have you come to accept his Majesty’s proposal of marriage? He still greatly desires you for his Queen, you know.” Talclius’s voice is deep and soothing.

Betsy makes a face and shakes her head. “I’m afraid I’m here on business that doesn’t involve marriage. As it happens, my heart is already given to someone else.”

“His Majesty will be most devastated to receive such news,” Marasia replies, trying to deepen his voice to mimic Talclius.

Ignoring his partner, Talclius continues. “A pity, for our Prince and our people. You would make a fine queen to us.”

Stopping in her tracks, Betsy turns to Talclius and takes his hands, which are made up of twigs. Leaning back slightly to looking him in the eye, she whispers in his ear. “I thank you for this unyielding loyalty you’ve always shown me. It means the universe and more to me. I just don’t believe I’m fit to be queen. I have no desire to rule and risk your civilization as an outsider.”

Talclius puts his hand over hers. “Precisely why you’d make a good and wise queen, but I understand your hesitation. As it happens, our good Prince has already made moves to acquire an acceptable second option.”

“Really? Who?” Betsy can’t hide her surprise.

“Princess Tiaskia Orianno of the Filavion System.” He replies, his distaste clear. “Her bloodline and connections make her a valuable choice for our Prince, but…” His voice trails off.

“Tell me.” Betsy gently urges her friend.

“She’s a terrible being. Spoiled, selfish, absolutely rotten. Has no regard for the people beneath her and only wants to marry our Prince so she can become Queen of two kingdoms.” Marasia suddenly chimes in from behind them. Betsy and Talclius both turn. Marasia has a pained look on his face. “She would just as soon use all three of us as stepping stones so she wouldn’t have to dirty her feet on the same ground we already walked on. Despite her father’s wishes, she has exhausted her military in pointless wars in an attempt to increase her power and control.”

“If she’s truly as terrible as you say, then why would Makatavia ever consider her for his bride?” Her surprise over the news caused her to slip in her formalities. Both guards gasp and Betsy covers her mouth for a moment. “My fault.” She uncovers her mouth. “Questions still on the table, though.”

“He needs someone with influence and wealth to help bring our little kingdom back into the spotlight. We’ve been minor players for too long, even though our capital is critical to galactic trading routes. Our military was once the finest this universe had to offer, but bigger, stronger competition has beaten us into submission. Our prince is looking for an ally that would offer a strong endorsement to our world. We’re suffering.” Talclius turns sad eyes to Betsy. “We’re experiencing the worst famine our world has ever known. Crops are dying out faster than we can produce and livestock continues getting diseased en masse. One particular group of trouble makers is trying to rally the people into revolt against their ruler.” His eyes flash with anger now. "They don’t understand, they couldn’t possibly understand, all that he’s ready to sacrifice for them."

“I see,” Betsy says softly, taking all this in. They remain quiet now, as they have approached the doors to the throne room. Both guards give Betsy a deep bow, which she returns, and they make their way back to their posts. Another servant, an attractive female, wearing a simple white maids gown and whose viny hair is dappled with bright wildflowers, comes forward and offers to take her cape. Smiling at her, Betsy allows the young girl to take her cape. She smooths out the folds of her silver, sparkling ball gown and adjusts the silver, jeweled comb in her hair.

A trumpet sounds and Betsy is escorted inside the throne room. It’s unlike anything you’d ever see in Buckingham Palace: Trees of all sizes, designs, and colors make up the walls. Their foliage provides a thick shelter against the outside. Glowing plants and flowers light up the room more than any candles or gaslights. The stone path leading to the throne is flanked on each side by grass the color of sapphire. The royal court of Prince Makatavia stands gathered around, all of them open staring at her as she enters the room. Many of them already know Betsy; these court members are beaming and reach out for her hand as she begins her approach towards the throne.

After what seems like ages, Betsy finally walks the stairs to the main chair and gracefully drops into a low curtsy. “Your Royal Highness,” she says demurely.

“Betsy.” The deep, seductive voice of the ruler of Ayabeya cuts through the murmur of the crowd.

Looking up, she’s taken aback by how much the Prince had grown. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been just a scrap of a boy, just ascending to his power. Now he stood before her fully grown; Taller than the rest of his people his green skin seemed to shine like glitter, his golden eyes brighter. His hair was a mess of vines, thick with leaves and flowers. His chest and shoulders were much broader than she recalled, he’d grown into them. Despite herself, she admired him open, her eyes drinking in his unique beauty.


He comes forward and offers her his hand. Placing her own gently into his, he helps her to her feet before pulling her in tight against him. Before she can squirm or object, he captures her lips in his own and gives her a deep kiss in front of all the court. Some of them, those who don’t yet know who Lady Betsy Granger, gasp in surprise. Others nod their approval at their Princes’ choice. Betsy herself, knowing that to reject his greeting would only cause problems, plays along and throws her arms around him. After an eternity, he lifts his face from hers.

“It’s good to see you too, my Prince,” Betsy says breathlessly.

“My true love, thank you so much for answering the call.” Prince Makatavia takes Betsy’s arm and places it within his own. “Let’s have a walk through the gardens. I can show you some of the changed I made and we can discuss why I’ve called you here.”

“The transmission sounded quite urgent, my Prince.” Betsy muses.

Prince Makatavia looks at Betsy with a troubled expression. “Not here… I’m afraid I can’t trust my court.”

“To the gardens, then.” Betsy agrees and the two exit the throne room heads close together in deep conversation...

On-Camera

“It’s your funeral, Geri. You chose this. You accepted my challenge and even took it upon yourself to lay down the terms. So when I’m forcing you to choke on cold metal, I don’t want to hear you bitching about it later. Don’t blame me when that husband of yours can’t even look you in the face because I’ve disfigured it so badly. And don’t even think about acting surprised when I break your body when I make you tap out. Everything I’m going to do to you, you brought upon yourself. And once I’m done with you, the last thing you’ll be worried about is the Shooting Star Championship. When you look over your shoulder, it won’t be for fear of Jenny or Atty. It’s these eyes, these gorgeous emeralds, that will plague your thoughts and haunt your nightmares. It’s this smirk you’ll envision when you think back to our date in the cage. Your body will ache as it remembers every blow it took at my hands.

For some reason, you truly believe your trope when you call yourself a queen and a viable talent. At best, you’re one of those dollar store mystery grab bags. There’s a brief moment of anticipation when we open it up, but in the end, it’s always disappointing garbage.”

Betsy and Muppet, followed by the cameras, head back towards their home.

“You should have learned by now: I’m no pushover. I’m not an easy target and you won’t be making it out of our date in the cage unscathed. I’ve been listening to our peers and the fans and they’ve made their Christmas Wish clear: Destroy Geri Vayden.

And who am I to disappoint?”

Betsy climbs the stairs to her porch, motioning for the camera crew to stop at the bottom.

“Your worst day has yet to come, Geri. Are you prepared to face it?”

Fade to Black

FORMER