Saturday, April 28, 2018

vs. The Gothfather


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Off Camera
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“I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past.” --- Thomas Jefferson

The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureau--without any mirror--and a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat. As there were no screens, the windows had not been raised. A big fly was buzzing angrily at one of them now, up and down, up and down, trying to get out.

I can empathize, in some ways, with that insect.  It is helpless, unable to change its situation.  I feel helpless and unable to change my situation.  The only difference is he didn’t intend to get stuck in my room.  I voluntarily put myself under the iron-willed rule of Quinn Murray, my owner and mistress.

She taught me everything she knew but I left her as soon as I had a professional wrestling career promised to me.  Now with my career seemingly going downhill, she’s promised to finish the lessons, she promised to finish teaching me everything she knows.  She just wanted me to make a sacrifice.  As it turns out, that sacrifice turned out to be my very soul.

No longer do I live with my brother Mark.  No longer can I go where I want when I want.  I live with Quinn Murray and I go where she wants me to go, do what she wants me to do.  In exchange, I listen to all of her invaluable words of wisdom.

It has seemingly been a good decision.  I managed to defeat Bill Barnhart on Breakdown.  My confidence is growing with every night I step foot inside of an SCW ring.  Now can I continue my momentum against The Gothfather?

The sound of the door opening startles me just slightly.  I turn my head in time to see Quinn Morgan’s dominating presence enter the room.  Immediately I swing my legs over the side of the bed and get up out of the bed, before immediately kneeling down before her.

“Good morning, my Mistress.”

Good morning, Sophie.  I trust your sleep went well?”

“It did, my Mistress.”

“Excellent.  I know this has been a tough time for you and I could only imagine how difficult these past few weeks must have been for you, trying to acclimated to life without your brother.  What’s his name again?”

“His name does not matter.” I hated having to say that, and it brings a tear to my eye, but I know it was the response she wanted to hear and I am rewarded with her running her hand through my long dark hair and a kiss planted on my forehead.

“Good girl!  You are learning your role very quickly, my pet.  But even I must admit that I am impressed with how much you have sacrificed for the sake of wisdom.”  She uses her hands to motion towards me. “Rise…”

Without question I stand up.

“You have already bore the fruits of further wisdom. You defeated Bill Barnhart on Breakdown.”

“Yet I failed to capture the United States Championship at Unflawed.”

“Stop that right now, Sophie.  This is a lesson in wisdom that you must learn.  What is in the past must stay in the past.  Always look to the future.  Always evolve.  That is what you are here for, is it not?  To evolve and grow?  To become a stronger, smarter athlete than you were before?”

“Yes, my Mistress.” I respond, nodding my head.

“Then don’t worry about your failure at Unflawed.  Focus on what happens going forward.”

“That also means ignoring this success against Barnhart.”

“Correct.  See?  You are learning quickly.  Your next focus should be on your next victim, or at least making sure he IS a victim.  What is his name?”

“His name is irrelevant.”

“Very good!” Quinn chuckles. “But seriously, I actually do need to know his name this time.”

“The Gothfather.”

“Ah, him; well, he hasn’t had much more like than that Barnhart fellow, now has he?  Doesn’t make him any less a threat.  I’m sure Glenn Braddock will have you ready.  Keep winning, Sophie, and I should be able to negotiate you into better matches and better bookings than the likes of Barnhart and Gothfather.”

“But I have to prove that I am worthy of the better bookings.”

“Correct.  But I have supreme confidence in your ability to win.  You have all of the tools to get the job done.  The only thing you lack is the true wisdom to use those tools effectively.” She taps me on my head. “I drilled many of those lessons in your head but just as you were near completion, you abandoned me.  You left me.”

“But I have returned to complete my training.”

“Yes, indeed you have.  And you have sacrificed so much in order to complete that training.  That’s why I am so proud of you, Sophie.  You have given your all, your entire self, over to me.  You were even willing to sacrifice a relationship with your brother Mark…for me…for wisdom.”

“I am your toy, my Mistress,” I shake my head “toys do not have brothers.”

“Too true.” She laughs somewhat nastily. “And with that, I am going to reward you handsomely with wisdom that no one alive knows.”

I perk up immediately, an anxious yet excited grin on my face, as I stare at her.

“Yes, my pet.  Today you shall learn The Truth of Quinn Murray.”

She turns and exits the bedroom.  It doesn’t take a brilliant tactician to determine that she expects me to follow her.  So I do follow closely behind.  As we walk down the hall of this floor of her immense mansion she begins to talk; she tells me a story.

“I am wealthy, my pet.  But no one becomes wealthy by chance.  Either they worked hard to earn it themselves or they inherited the wealth from wealthy parents.  Tell me, how do you think my wealth came to be?”

“I never thought about it, to be perfectly frank.  I knew you were the Owner and CEO of BEK Industries, a powerful worldwide conglomerate that has its toes dipped in numerous industries, focusing primarily on fashion.”

“I am the Owner and CEO but not the founder.”

“Then who did found that company, if it wasn’t you?”

“That is where our story begins.”

We arrive at the elevator.  She presses a button and immediately it opens. We step inside and the doors close.  She presses the very last button at the bottom of the panel.  It will send the elevator to a part of this house I’ve never been to before; the basement.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy both were hard working people.  Like I said, no one ever just falls into wealth.  These two worked for their wealth.  They built themselves and their empire up from the ground.  They founded BEK Industries.  But that wasn’t what the valued the most.”

There’s only one thing more valuable to human life than their material possessions and money.” I remark rather coldly. “And that would be more human life.”

“Very good, my pet.  Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy had a daughter, her name was Bridget Eileen Kennedy.  They loved the girl a great deal, to a fault perhaps.  They loved her so much that they changed the name of their company to BEK Industries…”

“So that’s what the BEK stands for.” I muse out loud. “Bridget Eileen Kennedy.”

“Exactly.”

The elevator reaches the bottom and, presumably, the basement.  The doors slowly slide open and Quinn steps out first, followed by me.  The basement was dank and smelled of cigarettes.  It was more of a bunker, all concrete and little to no personality; the walls and ceilings had a yellow-tar sheen on them and the once cream carpet was dark grey and gritty with grime. Near the ceiling were long low windows, no wider than the slits in a castle turret but lying on their sides. Without any circulation of air the stagnant aroma made it dungeon-esque and the un-softened echo of my feet upon the floor brought on a claustrophobic feel.  There is a blue tarp covering one of the walls.

“What’s behind the tarp?” I ask quizzically.  I look at her for an answer but she acts as if she didn’t hear me.  But I know she heard me.  I certainly spoke loud enough and she doesn’t have hearing difficulties.  She’s just choosing to ignore me for some reason.   She continues with her story.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy were loving parents, but as I said, they were perhaps loving to a fault.  They were overprotective of Bridget.  They sheltered her with their vast wealth and empire.  When she got old enough to realize that there was something else out there, she began to question their authority.  It didn’t help matters that they pressured her to conform to their very conservative, almost Stepford-like lifestyle.  They wanted her to marry a good man who could help her run the company so she and her man could follow in their footsteps.  Bridget had no desire to follow in her parent’s footsteps.”

“I can relate to having a not so good family life.  Granted my parents had slightly different problems than Bridget’s, I’d say.”

“And I think she’d agree your problems were far worse than hers.  She handled her problems similar to the way you and your brother handled yours.  She ran away from home.  No one knew what became of her and her parents were devastated.  They lived the rest of their lives as recluses, and their health slowly degenerated as they lost the will to live when their precious daughter left them.”

Quinn’s story is very intriguing.  It has me on the edge of my seat.

“What happened next?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy died, my pet.  That left the future of BEK up in the air.  Who would take control?  Distant relatives tried to lay claim to the company, due to the heir, Bridget, was presumably dead s well.  But then Bridget miraculously showed up at the last second to claim her rightful fortune.”

“Amazing.” I remark, in a stunned voice. “Simply amazing.  Who got the company?”

“Her distant relatives tried their best to keep it from her but her parents never changed the will.  The company would go to Bridget.”

I continue to stare straight ahead at Quinn, waiting for the rest of the story but she remains silent.  I furrow my brow in confusion.

“Mistress, I apologize but aren’t you going to finish the story?”

“I did.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” I shake my head “I thought Bridget had no interest in running the company?”

“You’re right, she didn’t.”

“So you bought it from her, I take it?”

“Oh silly little pet.” She says with a knowing grin. “Haven’t you guessed?  I AM Bridget Kennedy.”

That revelation nearly floors me.  And I am not easily shaken.  Still, I’m but merely her toy, her possession, and to be the only one allowed to know this piece of wisdom does make me feel honored and privileged indeed.  I grasp her hand and I kiss it.

“Thank you for sharing this wisdom with me, my Mistress.  I do feel privileged to be among the elite few to know this secret truth.  But why do you refuse to use your birth name?”

“My birth name…” she scoffs “…I only use it when I have to, if the board ever requires my physical presence.  They’ve been accepting of a representative going in my place to speak to them on my behalf.  They are corporate snobs, they don’t care as long as their pockets are lined with cash.  As far as why I don’t use the name more often; there is more reason to it than just merely the fact that I hated my parents, if that’s what you are wondering.”

“Why, if you don’t mind my asking, my Mistress?”

“I’m glad you asked.” She says with a knowing grin. “When I ran away from home, I got mixed up with a lot of bad people.  I also got mixed up with a lot of good people.  I learned things about humanity and about myself.  I learned I was not a Kennedy.  I was NEVER a Kennedy.”

I watch her carefully and cautiously as she makes her way over towards the blue tarp.  She places a hand on it.  She jerks on the tarp, causing it to tumble to the ground.  As it turns out the tarp was covering up a painting; a painting I easily recognize from my own studies in Greek mythology.

“Athena, the Greek Goddess of Wisdom.”

“I don’t go by that name any longer, my pet.”

I blink several times.  I pause, trying to figure out if I heard her right.  I look directly into her eyes with doubt in my own eyes.

“You can’t be serious…”

She rears back and slaps me hard across the face.  The smile of confidence on her face changes to a look of anger.

“That was for doubting me.  Another lesson in wisdom for you today, my pet; keep an open mind.  There are things in existence that you know nothing of.  Did you not question why you were my pet and I your owner?  You are not equal with a goddess.”

I rub the sting out of my cheek for a moment, all the while contemplating what I should do next.  It doesn’t take long for me to decide what to do.  I kneel down before this woman, a woman most would describe as insane, but who I am still trying to figure out.

“Glad you know your place, my pet.  Just remember, keep this secret of wisdom between us.  The world is not ready for the truth just yet.”

“Of course, my Mistress.”



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On Camera
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Ever since I returned to the life and career of my own personal weapon, MY Sophie O’Brian, her career has begun to slowly improve.  My Sophie O’Brian ran Billy Breakdown out of Supreme Championship Wrestling.  My Sophie O’Brian came oh so close to ruining that joke Ikiro’s run to the United States Championship.  But one minor speed bump didn’t stop her.  My Sophie O’Brian would bounce right back and keep moving forward with a win over Bill Barnhart.

Now she has this fool named The Gothfather to contend with.

Gothfather, I somewhat doubt that you have My Sophie beat in terms of physical prowess.  You may be a technical marvel, but she’s better than you in a straight scientific match.  I know it because she was trained by the best wrestler in the world.  And even if you want to brawl with her, I imagine she could still hold her own.

Gothfather, you most definitely have My Sophie O’Brian bested in terms of physical prowess, but what you have in strength you LACK in wisdom.  That is where My Sophie O’Brian will be victorious.  She will outthink you.

Not that it’s a major feat.  A trained monkey could outthink you, Neanderthal.



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On Camera
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Sun Tzu says, “Thus, what is of supreme importance in war is to attack the enemy's strategy.”

A brute like you is easy to read, Gothfather.  I can read you like a book just as easily as you could take a bath if you actually bothered to do that once in awhile.  And because I can read you like a book, I can attack your strategy before you even know you have a damn strategy.

You should know this, Goth-Person…might as well be Politically Correct.  If you have even have the smallest bit of ring awareness…and you no doubt do, with those many years of experience under your belt…you should know to do your homework on your opponent.  And if you’ve done your homework on me, then you will know that no one matches me in terms of pure submission and technical wrestling ability.

In other words, I can hurt you in any way I see fit.

If you try to change your method of attack, I can adapt to any style.  I’ve bled before and I am not afraid to bleed again.  And I’ve grounded the best high flyers.  And go ahead, use power and strength against me, but I don’t go down in defeat that easily.

Quite honestly, mate, you do not have the chops to put me down.

There is something else I have that you do not have, Goth-Person; a will to win.  As cheesy and corny as that may sound, it is a fact.  Ever since you arrived here in Supreme Championship Wrestling you’ve managed to do all of nothing in this company.  And you’ve maintained that status quo your entire SCW career without doing a damn thing to try and change your place.  It’s as if you are ok with where you are.

Granted, I haven’t done much either during my year in SCW.  The only difference between you and me is I am actively trying to change my spot.  I am not ok with where I am in SCW so I am doing everything and anything to improve my game, both physically and mentally.  I am learning more and more about how to physically take another human being apart and how to mentally take them apart, because I do not want to stay where I am.

You, Goth-Person, clearly are ok staying where you are.  And that’s fine with me, because I will gladly step over your beaten, bruised carcass on my way to the top where I belong.

Sunday, April 22, 2018

vs. Bill Barnhart


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Scene 1
Off Camera
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Unflawed did not turn out the way I had hoped.  I was hoping the new direction I had taken after devoting my entire life and self to the guidance of Quinn Murray would lead me to the United States Championship.  Granted, winning the championship would’ve been a difficult challenge to overcome.  I would have had to win the battle royal and then go on to defeat AJ Helms in the same night.  I did not get my hopes up too high. I hoped I would at least win the battle royal.  Yet I could not even manage that simple feat.  I could not win the battle royal to go on to face AJ Helms.  That honor belonged to Ikiro, who would go on to become SCW United States Champion.

Well, interim anyway.

Needless to say, I expect an earful from Quinn when she arrives to pick me up today after my training session with Glenn Braddock.  That arrival could be anytime now.  It’s time like this that I wish my training sessions could last longer, for right now I feel like a convicted felon on his way to the execution.

I exit the Glenn Braddock Wrestling School, having changed out of my training gear and back into street clothes consisting of a loose fitting floral print skirt, black high heel pumps, and a teal top.  My long raven black hair hangs unrestrained to just below the shoulders.  Exiting next to me is none other than my trainer, my mentor, the man I owe a great deal to; Glenn Braddock.

“Excellent session today, Sophie.” He says in his usual grizzled tone of voice. “I think you’re damn sure ready to bounce back against Bill Barnhart.”

“Unflawed was supposed to be my bounce back.” I respond in a sad, rather disappointed tone. “But thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“Hey, don’t set too high a bar for yourself.  Take small steps.”

“Small steps?” I repeat as I shake m y head. “No, you’re my trainer and you are Britain’s Best.  I represent you.  I should strive to be the best.”

“Well of course strive to be the best but don’t expect it right out of the gate.” He chuckles lightly. “Bloody hell, you and my daughter Glory are the same way.  You both expect too much too soon and thus when you do happen to fail, you get all down in the dumps.  Life doesn’t work out perfectly, Sophie.  One match isn’t the end of the world.”

“It’s far easier to say, Glenn.  But at least my bounce back match isn’t against Billy Breakdown this time.”

“Yeah, Bill Barnhart is far and above a step-up from Billy Breakdown.” He winks at me. “So there is that.”

“And I intend to beat him.” I state with a determined, confident voice. “I will not fail this time.  I cannot afford any further failures.”

There is a somewhat tense air in the atmosphere after I say this.  I can sense Glenn Braddock is staring at me, studying me intensely, even though I am not looking at him.  It is never easy to guess at what is going through the mind of this great man, although I have a pretty good idea what it is this time.

“Hey, uh Sophie…” his voice trails off “…how are you getting home?”

“Excuse me?”

“Normally Mark is here to pick you up.  But I don’t see him.”

“Mark isn’t picking me up today.” I shake my head.

“Oh, well in that case I could get you back home.”

“No thanks, Glenn.”

“Then how are you getting home, if you don’t mind me asking.”

I guessed that he was asking for a reason.  It appears as if I was right.  I sigh deeply.

“Quinn Murray is picking me up.”

I can almost feel the disappointment of Glenn Braddock ooze out from every pore and wash over me.  I feel guilty.  I feel like an even further disappointment to him now than when I lost at Unflawed.  I look over into his eyes, gazing stoically at me.

“I disappointed you, didn’t I?”

“What I think is unimportant.” He says, shaking his head. “I learned a long time ago with my own daughters not to judge the decisions they made as adults, even if I disagree with them.”

“So you disagree with my decision to seek help from Quinn Murray?”

“Just be careful.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “That’s all I ask.”

“I can do that.” I remark, nodding my head.  I watch as he nods his head and then removes his hand from my shoulder and walks away.  I resume my wait on Quinn Murray, who promised to pick me up shortly after the training session was over.  She stated in the area specifically so that I wouldn’t be kept waiting too long.

The wait isn’t much longer.

The limousine arrived.  It clearly was not one of her better vehicles.  There was a dent in the fender.  Quinn typically goes for perfection.  Even in the soft glow of the street-lamps it was easy to see that, other than the slight dent, this vehicle looks absolutely immaculate.  The limousine pulls up next to me.  When the driver got out he was about twenty-two and dressed up nicely in a black and white suit. I’m tempted to laugh when he sauntered around to open the door.  He was striking; his face was tanned and perfectly symmetrical, he was muscular but not overly so. He motioned for me to step inside and I did so.   I felt ridiculous sitting in the long, narrow compartment with two leather seats facing each other, a fully stocked bar, and a TV screen. It was nothing like a car at all - I was glad that the windows, like the driver's glasses, were darkened. Nobody was able to see in.

“How was your session today, my pet?”

Quickly I turn to look over and find Quinn Murray sitting on the other side, staring across from me with a smirk on her face.

“It went well, my Mistress.  Glenn Braddock had me engage in sparring sessions against men of similar build and fighting techniques as Bill Barnhart.  The next session we will go over film footage of Bill Barnhart in action, studying his strengths and weaknesses, looking for something I can exploit.”

“Do you feel this will lead you to victory on Breakdown?”

“Absolutely.” I nod my head confidently. “Glenn Braddock has never led me wrong.”

“And yet you lost at Unflawed.” Quinn’s facial expression suddenly turns sour as she glares angrily at me. “My first night as your manager and you embarrassed me.  Such a pathetic performance, Sophie.”

“I apologize, my Mistress.”

“Apologies won’t work!” Quinn slaps me across the face.  I rub the sting out of my cheek. “I gave you a long leash, a longer leash than I should have.  I let you have your own wrestling trainer, even, and you still couldn’t get the job done.”

“It wasn’t Glenn’s fault, Mistress!” I shake my head vehemently. I sense that she is about to take him away from me.  I can’t have her take him from me.  Not Glenn Braddock.  He is one of the few people I trust. “He is the best wrestling trainer in the world.  It wasn’t his fault.”

“You’re right, it wasn’t his fault.” That nasty smirk returns to her face. “It was your brother’s fault.”

“Mark?” I ask curiously. “What did that fool do now?”

“You really should be more grateful towards Mark.  He cares about you more than you realize and is a lot smarter than you think.  Unfortunately your brother is a bad influence upon you.  He had the audacity to threaten me backstage at Unflawed.  Do you believe it, Sophie?  He threatened me.”

My heart sinks.  I can only imagine what the consequences will be.

“He cares about you; he proved that much.  But alas his actions are also proving to be detrimental to everything we are trying to build.  Mark O’Brian needs to see a test of the power I hold over you, my pet.  He needs to realize that you are my possession, my toy, MY Sophie; and he needs to realize that he only gets to see you because I ALLOW you to see him.  Am I right, my pet?”

There is a long pause as I ponder what she just said and what she just asked. I am convinced now more than ever that she is going to take Mark away from me, which is worse than taking Glenn away from me.  An anger that I haven’t felt in a long time boils up inside me…

…but I fight it.  I keep it bottled up. I know my place.

“Yes, my Mistress.”

“Good, and don’t worry, my pet,” she runs her hand through my long dark hair “I will not prohibit you from seeing your brother…at least not permanently…I just need to make sure Mark is no longer a problem.  I need to make sure that he understands that you are my puppet and I pull your strings.”

“What are you going to do, my Mistress?”

“When you get home, you will inform Mark that you are moving out and that you are moving in with me.”

“No!”  I shake my head.  “Please!”

“Listen, my pet!” She says sternly. “I am still allowing you to see him at the Breakdown shows.  But if you speak back to me, if you show any resistance at all to my will, then I will take that privilege away as well.  Are we clear?”

“I…I don’t…I don’t know.  Family is important to me, my Mistress.  And Mark and I have always stuck by each other’s side. We always just had each other.”

“Poor, deluded, Sophie.  You don’t even realize when you’ve been replaced.” Quinn remarks with a knowing grin.  She definitely peaked my curiosity when she said this.

“Replaced?”

“Surely you can figure it out, considering how smart you claim to be.  Mark is married is he not?  I saw the wedding band on his finger.  What’s her name?”

“Ashley.” I answer with a sigh.

“You’re living with Mark and Ashley.  You’re the third wheel.  Don’t you think Mark and Ashley would love to have you out of the way so that they can get closer?  Mark doesn’t need you anymore, my dear.  He’s got Ashley.  Am I right?”

I want to deny what she’s saying, but she is tugging at a place in my heart that I had tried to keep buried.  She knows what buttons to push.  She is very good at what she does. Tears form in my eyes as I think about Ashley, Mark’s wife.  At one time I was quite jealous of her attachment to my brother.  I even tried to drive a wedge between them.  But we have all since made up.  Yet I still secretly harbored my own jealousy towards Ashley, because I felt that everything Ashley just said was true, that Mark no longer needed me now that he had Ashley.

“No need to answer, my pet.  You tears give me the answer I need. Now answer me this, my dear; what do you really want, family or the wisdom that I can give you?”

“You.”

“So if you had to choose, who would you choose, your brother or me?”

“I would choose you, my Mistress.” I take her hand and kiss it. “I would always choose you.”



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Scene 2
The Next Day
Off Camera
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From the outside this house looks stylish, intimate, and cozy. It has been built with red bricks and has tan stone decorations. Small, rectangular windows allow enough light to enter the home and have been added to the house in a very symmetric way.  The roof is high, triangular and layered and is covered with slate shingles. One small chimney pokes out the center of the roof. Rows of small windows let in plenty of light to the rooms below the roof.  The house itself is surrounded by a tranquil garden, with various flowers, a long pond, and various rock formations.

This is where my brother, Mark O’Brian, lives with his wife; her name is Ashley.  It used to be my house as well.  I used to live here.  But not anymore.  That is what brings me to his and the home Mark and Ashley share in Belfast, Northern Ireland.  I am here to inform them that I am moving out.

I exit the back passenger’s side of a luxury vehicle.  I walk up to the front door of their home.  My finger gently touches the button that is clearly the doorbell.  I stand there and wait patiently after ringing the doorbell, waiting for the arrival hopefully of my brother.  I would rather speak to him right now and no one else.

The lock unlatches and the door opens.  Thankfully I get what I want.  Mark is the one who answered the door.  He gazes at me curiously.

“You’re a little late, aren’t you Sophie?”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you were supposed to get back from training hours ago.  What’s the deal?  You and Glenn have any problems?”

“Oh, no, of course not. Why would we?”

“Well, I know how you are, Soph.”

“I know how I used to be but I’ve changed.  I need Glenn’s help and I will treat him with the utmost respect so long as he is willing to help me.”

“Good, because you and I both know there is no one better to work with you.” He turns to start walking back into the house. “Come on then, you’re just in time for dinner.  Ashley has a great meal planned and…”

“No.”

“Huh?” He stops and turns back to face me.

“I can’t go with you, Mark.”

“Why not?”

“That’s why I’m here.  I’m here to tell you that I’m moving out.”

Mark stares blankly at me for what seems like at eternity.  He’s shocked at first but that shock turns into an angry rage very quickly.

“Where the hell is she?!”

“Where is who, you blithering Neanderthal?!”

“Quinn!  Where is Quinn Murray?!  I’m gonna snap her damn neck!”

“Calm down for one second, Mark…”

“How can you tell me to calm the fuck down?!” He exclaims angrily. “She did this to you!  I don’t know what she has on you, I don’t know how she’s doing this, but she’s trying to destroy us and I’m gonna kill her!”

“She didn’t do a damn thing!  I chose this!”

“Bullshit!  I don’t believe you!”

I rear back and slap Mark across his face to get his attention.

“This is entirely your fault, Mark.  You were the one who threatened her.  She even warned you about this.  She told you not to make me choose between her and you, because I would choose her.  You didn’t believe her.  You had to tempt fate.  This is but a mere show of the power my owner possesses.  I can still see you at Breakdown and at Emerge but that’s it.  I’m living with her now.”

“So you’re not shitting me?” He pulls at his hair. “You’re serious about this crap?!”

“Deadly serious.”

“Well it’s bullshit!” Mark exclaims loudly and angrily. “We’ve always had each other’s back! We always had each other!  We…”

“You’re wrong.” I shake my head slowly as the tears return to my eyes. “We did have one another, but now you don’t need me. You have your wife.  You have Ashley.  You don’t need me any longer.  But I do need Quinn Murray and she needs me.  I am her pet, her toy…I am hers…”

I turn and start to walk away. “Goodbye, Mark.  And please do not make me choose.  Do not make me choose between you and her.  I think you know now who I will choose.”

I can feel Mark’s eyes on me as I walk away but he doesn’t follow me. I make my way back to the vehicle and get back into the backseat.  Quinn Murray is there waiting on me.

“Driver, take us back home.”

“Right away, Ms. Murray.”

The car starts and I feel it pulling away.  Quinn looks at me questioningly.

“Did you inform your brother of your new living conditions?”

“I did, my Mistress.”

“Excellent.” She holds my chin up. “Now I know how hard that must have been for you, but Mark isn’t gone for good and he won’t be as long as he is smart enough to respect your wishes.  Besides, think of the great wisdom you will gain from being with me twenty-four hours a day!”

“No.”

“What?” She asks with a surprised look on her face.

“No, I do not think.  Toys do not think.  Toys merely acts in accordance to the will of their owner.”

A sinister grin forms across Quinn’s face. “Thus begins your first steps towards true wisdom…”



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On Camera
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Sometimes in war, you need a few good allies in order to defeat a common foe.  In this case, at Unflawed, it just took one; Aaron Blackbourne and I, working together, ended your dreams of championship glory.  Granted, I was also eliminated from the battle royal and I, too, did not advance to the United States Championship.  Back to the drawing board for both of us, then?  One will advance our career and the other will continue down the road of failure.

Listen and take heed to the words of Sun Tzu…

“He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious.”

What I’m telling you, Barnhart, is that I can wait. I can be patient.  A failure for me is but a learning experience, a chance to grow and to hone my craft and, eventually, the war will be won.  The people of North Vietnam lost every battle in the Vietnam War but they still won the war, driving the Americans out of their country.  How did it happen?  What did they have that the American forces did not have?

There were many advantages but most significant among them was patience.  The North Vietnamese knew that they could wait out the United States and eventually the great and mighty United States would give up.

I am a patient individual, Barnhart.  I can wait for the right time to strike, whether it is long term over the course of several weeks and months, or whether it is short term, in the middle of a match.

You are stronger and more powerful than I am.  You are larger than I am. Your size and strength, although they may be considerable, will suffer the same fate as the much larger and much more powerful United States forces did in Vietnam.

Your size and strength will prove futile and will fail you in the end.

Patience and, almost as important as patience, wisdom…patience and wisdom will always overcome size and strength.  Because as big and as strong as you are, you are equally as dumb and foolhardy.  You, Bill Barnhart, are just a simple Neanderthal.  You are a big, strong, smelly Neanderthal who happens to have a little canine mascot.

Nothing against the Neanderthal.  My brother is a Neanderthal.   The Neanderthal was big and strong, just like you, just like my brother, but do you know what else is true about the Neanderthal?

They went extinct.

Granted, extinction is a long process.  It takes millions upon millions of years for it to happen.  But as I said, I am a patient woman.  I can wait for your extinction to come to pass, Bill Barnhart.  And your extinction just may come to pass on Breakdown when you face off against the smartest woman in professional wrestling.

The other key component to Sun Tzu’s words of wisdom had to do with readiness.  Are you honestly able to say that you are ready, Bill?  That is an honest question, by the way.  I cannot say if you are or are not ready.  Only you can.

I do hope you are ready for me.  When I win, I would rather win because I was challenged by a worthy opponent.

What I can tell you is that I WILL be ready.  That much is a guarantee. And when we face off at Breakdown, if you are not ready, then you will lose.  Despite all of your power and all of your physical attributes, if you are not ready for what I bring to the table, then you will lose.

Brute force always falls to the might of Wisdom.  Always.