The bright lights, the dizzying heights, the debauchery and sin - all was on offer here in Las Vegas. And though she’d not had a lot of success (so far) in this god-forsaken desert, that didn’t mean TJ wasn’t a fan of all the entertainment on offer here in Sin City. From the upscale hotels and casinos to the entertainment venues - there was never a lack of things to do when visiting Vegas. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” 

She pulled the lever on the slot machine sending the four bars spinning before coming up with a various mix of shapes and numbers… But no jackpot… She huffed and muttered, taking a drink of what must’ve been her 4th (or maybe 5th?) beverage - all of which had been offered up to her for free, on the house… A tactic that was pretty regular for these Casinos. 

Loose focus = loose purse strings

“Okay… This is your lucky coin, baby.” 

She blew on the token on some stupid, somewhat drunk effort to acclaim some level of luck before slotting it into the machine and pulling the lever… This was it - the lights flashed, the music played, the machine rolled over its tumblers… 


“UGH! That was supposed to be my lucky roll!” 

She mumbles in frustration having exhausted all of her tokens and thus given up on the slot machines… At least for the moment… TJ pulled herself up, her head a little swirly from the liquor as she gathered her beverage and made her way through the slot machine area, passing by many old ladies and jackoffs in cowboy hats before entering the lounge. 

“Boom! An empty seat” 

She slugged back another drink and made her way over to an empty booth to take a seat. Plucking her phone out of her back pocket, she glanced down at it to check up on her social media. 

“Let’s see… THOTS…” 
She swipes down
“Complaints”
More scrolling
“An advertisement for penis pills?” 

Tatiana scrunches her nose and shakes her head… What the hell would she need that for?

“Hrm… Oh, tits”
Scroll, scroll
“More tits”
Scroll
“Aaand some ass… Well, looks like Twitter is its usual-self” 

“Is this seat taken?” 

TJ’s attention shifted off her phone and to a rather tall, well put together young lady dressed in a dazzling blouse, a mink coat, and a skirt that was so short it was barely a skirt. 

“Uhhh hi?” 

She blinked in a bit of an alcohol fog as the blonde girl took a seat in the booth next to her, blocking TJ’s exit. Who was this girl? And why was she so friendly? These were the questions on Tatiana’s mind as she sipped her martini. 

“My name is Katarina…” 

And that accent… Baltic? 
Perhaps Russian or Ukrainian? 

Katarina plucked a small mirror from her coat pocket and reapplied her crimson red lipstick before taking out a pack of cigarettes - they were some European brand, one that TJ had never seen before. 

“I’m Tatiana” 

“Oh? This is a beautiful name… Are you of Russian heritage?” 

Ohhhh yeah… Her name was kinda Russian sounding. Or at least that’s what she’s been told… TJ smiled, her left eye a bit droopy with a subtle touch of ptosis brought on by the alcohol consumption. 

“Nooo…. I’m from Canada. As far as I know I don’t have any Russian in me… How about you?” 

“I am from Los Angeles” 

The blonde replied with that heavy accent and a tiny little smile as she lit the cigarette, taking a little drag from it and exhaling the smoke into the air.

“Would you like one?” 

She offered up the smokes, to which Tatiana politely refused… She quit smoking 20 years ago and had no intention of going back to that old habit. Katherine… Or Katya? Katherina?... Erm, anyway to reiterate - she politely refused the offer



“What brings a pretty little thing like you all the way to Las Vegas? Feeling lucky, or do you have business in the city?” 

TJ had almost forgotten that she was dressed in a designer suit and tie. It was a bit out of place for a lady to be dressed like a business grade yuppie - but this WAS Las Vegas, and she’d come from a press event and straight to the casino without changing out of her suit. 

“Business… And I guess fun? I mean when in Vegas…”

This drew an interested smile from the blonde as she took dainty little drags off of her long, thin cigarette. 

“What kind of business?” 

“Oh… Uh… Well, wrestling. I’m competing in the Denzel Porter Invitational'' 

This didn’t seem to really resonate in the lady’s expression. Perhaps she mistook TJ for some Silicon Valley CEO or something? Certainly, one might not expect a professional wrestler to be so little… And well-dressed

“Oh, that is very interesting. Yes… Are you here for long, or only briefly?” 

“A few days… The event is taking place over three days. And all the press stuff, fan interactions ect… They have me here for a few days” 

Katherina nodded, her hand sliding under the table and resting on TJ’s thigh. This drew a couple surprised blinks from the drunk Canadian - she certainly wasn’t expecting to have a complete stranger sit next to her and get friendly. 

“I bet you are very strong and fight like a bear in the ring” 

The Russian accent was just dripping off those crimson lips

“Who will you be fighting?” 

That hand began to move subtly up her thigh from her knee. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze at the table top not really knowing how to react to this… friendly gesture… in her present state of mind. 
“Mark Flynn… He’s an old hand who has traveled the circuits a time or two”

Her words were slurred as she tried to focus. The room seemed to sway like a ship in rough seas. 

“You will beat him soundly, I know this” 

That hand began to wander up into her inner thigh, almost causing her to recoil a bit with wide eyes. 

“I have a very nice room up on the 4th floor… Maybe… if you are feeling generous… we might go up there and get to know each other a bit more… intimately?” 

And then it dawned on her… This friendly lady with the mink coat and eastern accent was a high-end prostitute on the prowl for business ventures… TJ’s suit and tie must have made a mark of her. 

“Oh… Ohhhhhh… Geez… Uh… Erm” 

“I don’t bite… Unless you like that sort of thing, yes?” 

“I’m here with someone” 

“Oh?” 

“Y-yeah… I’m not really… Like, yanno… Available?” 

“Well, if it would help your confidence, they can join in… For a fee, of course.”


“I can promise you a thoroughly good tim-” 

“Hey ho-bag… Hit the fuckin’ road” 

Tatiana’s (and the friendly Russian woman’s) attention shifted to the tall, athletic figure of her girlfriend Hope Russo who stood with her own beverage in hand and a less than impressed look on her face.

“Excuse me?” 

“That’s my girlfriend!” 

TJ exclaimed with an amorous expression - Hope to the RESCUE! 

“I said… Get the fuck out of here before I rip those heels off your boots and shove them up your ass…”

She leaned in, pressing a hand to the edge of the table

“Just try me, bitch…” 

Hope was authoritative and hostile as those pale blue eyes cut through the Russian with daggers… Katherina was quick to her feet - not being much for confrontation and muttered something in her native tongue as she scurried away. 

“Cuuuunt” 

Russo flipped her the bird as the lady walked away from the table with nervous haste

“Thank god you arrived… She was getting too friendly” 

TJ said with a drunk smile 

“She’s lucky I didn’t choke her out with the lining of that fur coat… Come on, let's go to our room… You’ve been a bit over-served tonight”
“You’re totally sauced”

Hope interjected  

“I’m good, how about you!?” 

Wait… That wasn’t even the right response…
Okay, maybe she had a point

“Fiiiine… But promise we can go into the bubble bath when we get there?” 

“Uh… Duh”

Hope grinned and offered a hand

“C’mon beautiful… Let’s get out of here before Slut-a-rina comes back with her pimp” 




“So, what else do you need to know?” 

The question, a rhetorical one - was broached as I made my way through the backstage of the arena booked for this amazing festival of fights. I was still a bit hungover from the previous night and sported a pair of dark beatnik style sunglasses (despite being indoors). I was otherwise dressed casually - a pair of skinny jeans, a black DPI 2023 promotional shirt with the cards for all three nights printed on the back in the band tour shirt - and of course my trademark leather jacket. 

“Probably just about everything, huh? Well.. We’ve already discussed my opponent, so for those of you who are unfamiliar with me - let me introduce myself” 

I said with an expressionistic grin on my face. Not many unfamiliar with Canadian wrestling were likely to know me or anything I’ve done outside of Action Wrestling - and the ones that know me because of AW likely have the wrong inclination of who I am and what I stand for. 

“I got my start in this business in 1999… I was just a kid back then, breaking in as a valet at first during the ‘wild west’ years where tits and ass were the norm, and hardcore wrestling was in fashion.” 

I scoffed, there was an absolute level of hatred for EVERYTHING that time stood for. I was never going to be a barbie doll showing her body off for a pop - and there was no way in hell I was going through a flaming table from off the top of a ladder. 


“Back then, the only thing you needed to get over was a foul mouth and a big set of knockers… Well, that or a torso full of meaty scar tissue. I knew I wanted to be a wrestler the very first time I saw a live event… And in order to achieve that goal, I took a much harder and more professional path.” 

At that time, technical wrestling wasn’t quite the taboo it is today… In fact, there were still quite a few veterans in the business who were technically savvy workers. I was fortunate enough to gain an apprenticeship with one of them - and in exchange for two years of working as his ‘valet’ - he offered to train me in the lost art of mat wrestling. 

“And so I embarked upon a path of hard work and sacrifice. Working the absolute worst venues for peanuts as I earned my way into the graces of the business. Back then, I could only earn toil and hardship - I had to scrounge for food, and spent more than a few nights sleeping in the backseat of rental cars or in dodgy motels. But I put up with it because I LOVE this business with a burning passion.”

I've since dedicated over half of my life to this business… Almost a quarter of a century of working everything from dingy gyms, or filthy carnivals - to the MGM Grand and the Rogers Centre. I’ve traveled the world, fought in international tournaments and continued to craft my skill set with experience and psychology. 

“And that’s why I’m here… Competing in the Denzel Porter Invitational''

The passion in my voice was evident as I continued my journey through these hallways. I had been here only recently and suffered defeat - losing my championship in Action Wrestling. Truthfully, I was still burdened with frustration over that whole mess - but in a way, this festival was a nice little distraction from the frustration I regularly cope with in AW. 

“I’m here because Mr. Porter is a wrestling PURIST who appreciates the sport, its legacy, its history, and its impact on the sporting world. He LOVES wrestling as much as I do - so much that he’s put everything on the line to finance this MASSIVE event. Not because he’s a greedy corporate goon - but because he has a passion for this industry and wants to offer you, the fan, something that you would never get to experience otherwise” 

This was so much more than just some silly festival. It was an assertion that wrestling was far from dead - it was a statement that our sport is the BEST one in the world. Better than FIFA, the NFL, CFL, MLB and… 


“And my match against Marvelous Mark Flynn is more than just some random match between two people who would otherwise never meet in the ring. It’s a carefully crafted thing - a booking suggested by the MAN himself because Mr. Porter knows that our styles, our psychology, and our legacy are almost in parallel to one another.”

“I’m the Canadian Version of him, and he’s the American Version of me” 

“We’ve both traveled the roads, we’ve both fought in venues all over the world, and we both stand for the traditional values of this great sport. He, like myself, is an expert grappler… An absolute shooter in the ring - and I look forward to matching wits and skills with him in a classic that you’ll all be talking about for years to come” 

This was no filler match, and we were going to literally carry the mid-card and set up the whole festival to end on a HUGE note. This was more than a paycheck; it was a statement of intent - a love letter to the art of pro-wrestling. And both of us, veterans as we are… Were going to show everyone what the art of ring psychology is all about.  

“There are two types of people in this business… The shallow, banal, and self-indulgent type that values style over substance. And the true-blue workers who not only know how to get a pop, but who can work a solid match and get the fans on their feet without showing off their tits or taking foolish bumps.” 

That was all good and fine, I was certainly excited to FINALLY get a match against a similarly-minded wrestler on such a big stage. But it was about more than just making waves. 


“That said… This isn’t going to be a walk in the park. I respect you and all you’ve done over a long career. But I’m not here to fluff you, nor am I into handing out mana. This is a fight, a battle of two master chess players. You’re a hell of a wrestler, but you’re not me. And while you’ve won the Cannabis Cup and had a hell of a run as tag champion… None of that matters out here in the DPI” 

I shook my head before coming to a stop. With a subtle smirk, I ran a hand through my short hair and refocused on the camera. 

“We’re going to tear the roof off the place. We’re going to set precedents and make the world swoon. But make no mistake about it… I’m going to beat you tonight, plain and simple - in the middle of the ring.”


“And there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it” 

With that, I palmed the lens and pushed away leaving it to film my perfect ass as I walked away from the scene… 

The bright lights, the dizzying heights, the debauchery and sin - all was on offer here in Las Vegas. And though she’d not had a lot of success (so far) in this god-forsaken desert, that didn’t mean TJ wasn’t a fan of all the entertainment on offer here in Sin City. From the upscale hotels and casinos to the entertainment venues - there was never a lack of things to do when visiting Vegas. 

“Come on, come on, come on!” 

She pulled the lever on the slot machine sending the four bars spinning before coming up with a various mix of shapes and numbers… But no jackpot… She huffed and muttered, taking a drink of what must’ve been her 4th (or maybe 5th?) beverage - all of which had been offered up to her for free, on the house… A tactic that was pretty regular for these Casinos. 

Loose focus = loose purse strings

“Okay… This is your lucky coin, baby.” 

She blew on the token on some stupid, somewhat drunk effort to acclaim some level of luck before slotting it into the machine and pulling the lever… This was it - the lights flashed, the music played, the machine rolled over its tumblers… 


“UGH! That was supposed to be my lucky roll!” 

She mumbles in frustration having exhausted all of her tokens and thus given up on the slot machines… At least for the moment… TJ pulled herself up, her head a little swirly from the liquor as she gathered her beverage and made her way through the slot machine area, passing by many old ladies and jackoffs in cowboy hats before entering the lounge. 

“Boom! An empty seat” 

She slugged back another drink and made her way over to an empty booth to take a seat. Plucking her phone out of her back pocket, she glanced down at it to check up on her social media. 

“Let’s see… THOTS…” 
She swipes down
“Complaints”
More scrolling
“An advertisement for penis pills?” 

Tatiana scrunches her nose and shakes her head… What the hell would she need that for?

“Hrm… Oh, tits”
Scroll, scroll
“More tits”
Scroll
“Aaand some ass… Well, looks like Twitter is its usual-self” 

“Is this seat taken?” 

TJ’s attention shifted off her phone and to a rather tall, well put together young lady dressed in a dazzling blouse, a mink coat, and a skirt that was so short it was barely a skirt. 

“Uhhh hi?” 

She blinked in a bit of an alcohol fog as the blonde girl took a seat in the booth next to her, blocking TJ’s exit. Who was this girl? And why was she so friendly? These were the questions on Tatiana’s mind as she sipped her martini. 

“My name is Katarina…” 

And that accent… Baltic? 
Perhaps Russian or Ukrainian? 

Katarina plucked a small mirror from her coat pocket and reapplied her crimson red lipstick before taking out a pack of cigarettes - they were some European brand, one that TJ had never seen before. 

“I’m Tatiana” 

“Oh? This is a beautiful name… Are you of Russian heritage?” 

Ohhhh yeah… Her name was kinda Russian sounding. Or at least that’s what she’s been told… TJ smiled, her left eye a bit droopy with a subtle touch of ptosis brought on by the alcohol consumption. 

“Nooo…. I’m from Canada. As far as I know I don’t have any Russian in me… How about you?” 

“I am from Los Angeles” 

The blonde replied with that heavy accent and a tiny little smile as she lit the cigarette, taking a little drag from it and exhaling the smoke into the air.

“Would you like one?” 

She offered up the smokes, to which Tatiana politely refused… She quit smoking 20 years ago and had no intention of going back to that old habit. Katherine… Or Katya? Katherina?... Erm, anyway to reiterate - she politely refused the offer



“What brings a pretty little thing like you all the way to Las Vegas? Feeling lucky, or do you have business in the city?” 

TJ had almost forgotten that she was dressed in a designer suit and tie. It was a bit out of place for a lady to be dressed like a business grade yuppie - but this WAS Las Vegas, and she’d come from a press event and straight to the casino without changing out of her suit. 

“Business… And I guess fun? I mean when in Vegas…”

This drew an interested smile from the blonde as she took dainty little drags off of her long, thin cigarette. 

“What kind of business?” 

“Oh… Uh… Well, wrestling. I’m competing in the Denzel Porter Invitational'' 

This didn’t seem to really resonate in the lady’s expression. Perhaps she mistook TJ for some Silicon Valley CEO or something? Certainly, one might not expect a professional wrestler to be so little… And well-dressed

“Oh, that is very interesting. Yes… Are you here for long, or only briefly?” 

“A few days… The event is taking place over three days. And all the press stuff, fan interactions ect… They have me here for a few days” 

Katherina nodded, her hand sliding under the table and resting on TJ’s thigh. This drew a couple surprised blinks from the drunk Canadian - she certainly wasn’t expecting to have a complete stranger sit next to her and get friendly. 

“I bet you are very strong and fight like a bear in the ring” 

The Russian accent was just dripping off those crimson lips

“Who will you be fighting?” 

That hand began to move subtly up her thigh from her knee. She swallowed hard and kept her gaze at the table top not really knowing how to react to this… friendly gesture… in her present state of mind. 
“Mark Flynn… He’s an old hand who has traveled the circuits a time or two”

Her words were slurred as she tried to focus. The room seemed to sway like a ship in rough seas. 

“You will beat him soundly, I know this” 

That hand began to wander up into her inner thigh, almost causing her to recoil a bit with wide eyes. 

“I have a very nice room up on the 4th floor… Maybe… if you are feeling generous… we might go up there and get to know each other a bit more… intimately?” 

And then it dawned on her… This friendly lady with the mink coat and eastern accent was a high-end prostitute on the prowl for business ventures… TJ’s suit and tie must have made a mark of her. 

“Oh… Ohhhhhh… Geez… Uh… Erm” 

“I don’t bite… Unless you like that sort of thing, yes?” 

“I’m here with someone” 

“Oh?” 

“Y-yeah… I’m not really… Like, yanno… Available?” 

“Well, if it would help your confidence, they can join in… For a fee, of course.”


“I can promise you a thoroughly good tim-” 

“Hey ho-bag… Hit the fuckin’ road” 

Tatiana’s (and the friendly Russian woman’s) attention shifted to the tall, athletic figure of her girlfriend Hope Russo who stood with her own beverage in hand and a less than impressed look on her face.

“Excuse me?” 

“That’s my girlfriend!” 

TJ exclaimed with an amorous expression - Hope to the RESCUE! 

“I said… Get the fuck out of here before I rip those heels off your boots and shove them up your ass…”

She leaned in, pressing a hand to the edge of the table

“Just try me, bitch…” 

Hope was authoritative and hostile as those pale blue eyes cut through the Russian with daggers… Katherina was quick to her feet - not being much for confrontation and muttered something in her native tongue as she scurried away. 

“Cuuuunt” 

Russo flipped her the bird as the lady walked away from the table with nervous haste

“Thank god you arrived… She was getting too friendly” 

TJ said with a drunk smile 

“She’s lucky I didn’t choke her out with the lining of that fur coat… Come on, let's go to our room… You’ve been a bit over-served tonight”
“You’re totally sauced”

Hope interjected  

“I’m good, how about you!?” 

Wait… That wasn’t even the right response…
Okay, maybe she had a point

“Fiiiine… But promise we can go into the bubble bath when we get there?” 

“Uh… Duh”

Hope grinned and offered a hand

“C’mon beautiful… Let’s get out of here before Slut-a-rina comes back with her pimp” 




“So, what else do you need to know?” 

The question, a rhetorical one - was broached as I made my way through the backstage of the arena booked for this amazing festival of fights. I was still a bit hungover from the previous night and sported a pair of dark beatnik style sunglasses (despite being indoors). I was otherwise dressed casually - a pair of skinny jeans, a black DPI 2023 promotional shirt with the cards for all three nights printed on the back in the band tour shirt - and of course my trademark leather jacket. 

“Probably just about everything, huh? Well.. We’ve already discussed my opponent, so for those of you who are unfamiliar with me - let me introduce myself” 

I said with an expressionistic grin on my face. Not many unfamiliar with Canadian wrestling were likely to know me or anything I’ve done outside of Action Wrestling - and the ones that know me because of AW likely have the wrong inclination of who I am and what I stand for. 

“I got my start in this business in 1999… I was just a kid back then, breaking in as a valet at first during the ‘wild west’ years where tits and ass were the norm, and hardcore wrestling was in fashion.” 

I scoffed, there was an absolute level of hatred for EVERYTHING that time stood for. I was never going to be a barbie doll showing her body off for a pop - and there was no way in hell I was going through a flaming table from off the top of a ladder. 


“Back then, the only thing you needed to get over was a foul mouth and a big set of knockers… Well, that or a torso full of meaty scar tissue. I knew I wanted to be a wrestler the very first time I saw a live event… And in order to achieve that goal, I took a much harder and more professional path.” 

At that time, technical wrestling wasn’t quite the taboo it is today… In fact, there were still quite a few veterans in the business who were technically savvy workers. I was fortunate enough to gain an apprenticeship with one of them - and in exchange for two years of working as his ‘valet’ - he offered to train me in the lost art of mat wrestling. 

“And so I embarked upon a path of hard work and sacrifice. Working the absolute worst venues for peanuts as I earned my way into the graces of the business. Back then, I could only earn toil and hardship - I had to scrounge for food, and spent more than a few nights sleeping in the backseat of rental cars or in dodgy motels. But I put up with it because I LOVE this business with a burning passion.”

I've since dedicated over half of my life to this business… Almost a quarter of a century of working everything from dingy gyms, or filthy carnivals - to the MGM Grand and the Rogers Centre. I’ve traveled the world, fought in international tournaments and continued to craft my skill set with experience and psychology. 

“And that’s why I’m here… Competing in the Denzel Porter Invitational''

The passion in my voice was evident as I continued my journey through these hallways. I had been here only recently and suffered defeat - losing my championship in Action Wrestling. Truthfully, I was still burdened with frustration over that whole mess - but in a way, this festival was a nice little distraction from the frustration I regularly cope with in AW. 

“I’m here because Mr. Porter is a wrestling PURIST who appreciates the sport, its legacy, its history, and its impact on the sporting world. He LOVES wrestling as much as I do - so much that he’s put everything on the line to finance this MASSIVE event. Not because he’s a greedy corporate goon - but because he has a passion for this industry and wants to offer you, the fan, something that you would never get to experience otherwise” 

This was so much more than just some silly festival. It was an assertion that wrestling was far from dead - it was a statement that our sport is the BEST one in the world. Better than FIFA, the NFL, CFL, MLB and… 


“And my match against Marvelous Mark Flynn is more than just some random match between two people who would otherwise never meet in the ring. It’s a carefully crafted thing - a booking suggested by the MAN himself because Mr. Porter knows that our styles, our psychology, and our legacy are almost in parallel to one another.”

“I’m the Canadian Version of him, and he’s the American Version of me” 

“We’ve both traveled the roads, we’ve both fought in venues all over the world, and we both stand for the traditional values of this great sport. He, like myself, is an expert grappler… An absolute shooter in the ring - and I look forward to matching wits and skills with him in a classic that you’ll all be talking about for years to come” 

This was no filler match, and we were going to literally carry the mid-card and set up the whole festival to end on a HUGE note. This was more than a paycheck; it was a statement of intent - a love letter to the art of pro-wrestling. And both of us, veterans as we are… Were going to show everyone what the art of ring psychology is all about.  

“There are two types of people in this business… The shallow, banal, and self-indulgent type that values style over substance. And the true-blue workers who not only know how to get a pop, but who can work a solid match and get the fans on their feet without showing off their tits or taking foolish bumps.” 

That was all good and fine, I was certainly excited to FINALLY get a match against a similarly-minded wrestler on such a big stage. But it was about more than just making waves. 


“That said… This isn’t going to be a walk in the park. I respect you and all you’ve done over a long career. But I’m not here to fluff you, nor am I into handing out mana. This is a fight, a battle of two master chess players. You’re a hell of a wrestler, but you’re not me. And while you’ve won the Cannabis Cup and had a hell of a run as tag champion… None of that matters out here in the DPI” 

I shook my head before coming to a stop. With a subtle smirk, I ran a hand through my short hair and refocused on the camera. 

“We’re going to tear the roof off the place. We’re going to set precedents and make the world swoon. But make no mistake about it… I’m going to beat you tonight, plain and simple - in the middle of the ring.”


“And there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it” 

With that, I palmed the lens and pushed away leaving it to film my perfect ass as I walked away from the scene…