The Braddock Legacy

==========

Scene 1

Off Camera

==========

“The Elders had nothing but contempt for human emotion; they considered it their biggest weakness.” — Michael Scott

I tend to agree with the elders.  Human emotion is a weakness that tends to get in the way of accomplishing one’s goal.  My husband, Tony Morgan, once tried to make me feel emotion.  He nearly succeeded in making me at least halfway human.  But he had no idea who…or rather what…he was dealing with…

…a sociopath.

I feel no emotion, no guilt or shame, I do not feel happiness nor grief; I feel nothing.  Tony Morgan did not realize that there was no hope for me.   He did not realize that trying to help me was not just an exercise in futility but it was a mistake that would cost him his life.

Yes, I had to kill him.  I had to put an end to his worthless life.  He was clearly inhibiting me from accomplishing my goals, both professional and personal.  This notion of feeling emotions is pointless and pathetic, as far as I am concerned.  I do not need them and I did not need Tony.

As much as I detest human emotion, there is also another concept which I do believe in and that is the concept of yin and yang.  Yin and Yang describes how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world, and how they may give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another.

Thus while I may not feel emotions myself, perhaps I do occasionally require the need of someone who does.  And that individual is my brother, Mark O’Brian.

My brother may be an ape and Neanderthal (both in smell and intelligence quotient) but he also is a good ally to have in warfare.  He is fiercely protective of me and loyal to me.  Most of the time he does whatever I ask unquestioningly. He’s my muscle.  But on very rare occasions he will make a request of me.

I always oblige.

Mark and I have always been there for one another.  During our time growing up under the abusive drunken asshole George O’Brian we stuck together in order to survive the painful ordeal.  Mark helped me escape the situation shortly after he escaped.  We trained together at the Braddock School of Wrestling and got involved in the business together.  We have always been side by side, no matter what.  Through thick and thin, through the good times and bad.  And Mark, he rarely asks anything of me, so why shouldn’t I oblige the few requests he does make of me?

One such request may be slightly challenging for a sociopath such as myself.  He’s asked that I make peace with the Braddock family.  It becomes even more awkward because I have assaulted the patriarch, Glenn Braddock, and I have publicly declared myself the true heir to the Braddock Wrestling Legacy.

Yes, this will definitely be awkward.

I probably should meet with the patriarch himself, Glenn Braddock.  He would be more amenable to me and more willing to make peace.  Though I do not feel as if I am ready to face him.  Some may call this an emotion I am feeling, the emotion known as guilt, but I prefer to think of it as respect.  I respect him too much and am not ready to face him again after assaulting him.

Besides, it will give me a little pleasure to meet with his daughter, Glory Braddock.  She wronged me last year and I know that in her human weakness she feels guilt, so this gives me an opportunity to rub some salt into that wound while at the same time giving Mark what he stupidly desires.

I find myself sitting in the outside patio area of a small café in Phoenix, Arizona.  The patio area is decorated beautifully with green bushes.  It’s riddled with high top chairs and tables set up all over the place with no distinct pattern in mind.

One could find me sitting at one of these high top tables.  I am dressed in a pair of black dress pants, a matching black top with a green blazer, and sophisticated patent leather flats.

“Funny seeing you here…”

I turn my head to see Glory Braddock approaching.  She is attired in a shimmery midnight purple ankle length dress with a deep V-neck, showing off a hint of cleavage; the bodice of the dress was fitted through to the hips, where it flared out, giving her enough room to move about and feel elegant.

“It really isn’t funny,” I retort “I asked you to come here.”

“That’s why it is funny.” Glory responded as she pulls up a chair at my table and sits down across from me. “I never expected you to call, not after…”

“…not after you blackmailed me and forced me to serve you as a blood slave?” I snap back at her with venom dripping from my voice.  Glory’s own eyes narrow into a look of anger and frustration as she stares at me from across the table.

“I was going to say that I never expected you to call, not after you attacked my father!”

I chuckle lightly. “The grizzled veteran exaggerates.  A kick to the groin is hardly an attack.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Glory counters. “An attack is an attack.”

My mouth has gotten me into trouble before.  I decide not to use any further sarcasm and just nod my head.

“Tue enough, I guess we’re both guilty then of past sins.”

A tense moment passes as my former friend now enemy stares at me.  Finally she nods her head.

“Yes, I guess you’re right.” She points a carefully manicured finger at me. “But you’re the one claiming  to be the true heir to the Braddock Wrestling Legacy.”

Glory frowns skeptically, judgmentally. “What’s that about, Sophie?”

I chuckle at how I’ve already gotten under Glory’s skin and we’ve barely been here a minute.  I prepare my respond but I am interrupted when one of the ladies, a waitress, approaches our table and stares at Glory.

“What are you having?”

“French Vanilla.” Glory answers.

“It’s on me.” I remark.  The waitress nods and walks off to fill the order.  Glory turns to look at me skeptically.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She says. “I can pay for it.”

“I know you can, but Glory,” I wink at her “since when did you drink French Vanilla?  I thought you always had your coffee black?”

Glory pauses for a moment and shrugs. “I don’t know…my tastes have changed, I guess.”

“Not the only thing that changed about you, mate.” I respond, motioning to my former friend. “If I recall, you were quite the tomboy growing up.  Now while you’re still a vicious wrestler inside the ring, you’re a classy lady outside the ring.”

We may be enemies but it is almost as if that entire fact has been forgotten as Glory lets her guard down and lets out a slight chuckle.

“Yes, well, I guess I can thank mother for that.”

The waitress returns with a cup of French Vanilla, which she sets down in front of Glory.  Braddock nods a thank you and starts to sip on her coffee.  She sighs with pleasure.

“Yeah, there’s a great deal to thank mother for.”

“Yes, but Aphrodite Noel did more than just teach you how to dress properly.” A sly grin forms across my face.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play innocent, Glory.” I press her with a sinister grin. “You know what I mean.  I remember watching you when you made your debut in GDW and then you went to MWA and MCW and FWA.  I got to follow you even closer when I became a wrestler as well and I joined you, fought by your side.”

I point a finger at her. “You were always the hero, Glory.  You were the hero the people looked up to, the hero that the company needed.  You were pro-wrestling’s superhero.  And me?  I was shunned.”

I shake my head. “No one cared for me because of my outlook on life.  We were both taught the same thing by the same man, your father, and I just interpreted him differently, yet I was shunned.”

“Oh bloody hell,” she rolls her eyes “are we really going to go through this again?”

“Yes, because it’s important.” I answer back. “Do you remember the final lesson Glenn Braddock taught us?  Do you remember those words he said to us?”

“I do,” Glory nods her head “he said ‘A professional wrestler is, him or herself, a lethal weapon. Know this and use this knowledge and ability you have wisely.’”

“That’s right,” I answer and point at her “and you thought it meant to be careful so as not to hurt people just because you can.  But I knew better, I always knew better.  I always had the proper interpretation of what Glenn Braddock meant by that and you wouldn’t believe me.  No one would believe me.”

A light laugh escapes my lips. “It means to destroy the enemy.  Eliminate them.  Do not waste energy.  When you go after someone, MAKE…IT…COUNT!”

I wink at Glory. “Now you are living breathing evidence that I was right all along.”

                                           

Glory’s frustration is growing, her anger bubbling up. “You’re pushing your luck here, Sophie.”

“What’s wrong?  You can’t handle the truth?” I sneer. “Let’s face it, you didn’t want to embrace your own father’s wrestling philosophy, you wanted to be a super hero instead.  And you were a great super hero for awhile, until you ran into Aphrodite Noel.  And what did she do?  She pushed you.  She challenged your morality.  She kept challenging and pushing until she pushed you over the edge and you snapped.”

I smirk at Glory. “You revealed your true colors, that you were no better than me, no better than the other villains you looked down upon.  You were no hero….”

I chuckle lightly “…funny, Aphrodite wanted to convert you into a Noel, but all she did was succeed in turning you into a TRUE Braddock.”

The anger in Glory’s eyes starts to boil over but then, in a quick moment, it starts to subside.  Perhaps she realizes that I am right and I have been right all along?  Or maybe she just wants to calm down so that she doesn’t cause a scene in this very public place.  Either way, I like having Glory right here, right where I want her.  She nods her head.

“I admit, you may be right about a lot of what you said.  You may even be right about what my dad meant when he gave us that lesson.  But even if that is my legacy, it doesn’t mean I have to embrace it.  I can create a new Braddock legacy, and yes, Sophie, that involves trying to be a hero.  And I put emphasis on the word try, because no one is perfect.  We all make mistakes.  But I will always do my best to do what’s right by myself, my friends, and my family.”

“You know, Glory,” I begin with a satisfied grin on my face “you and I may disagree on philosophy, but unlike the other pretenders in the world, at least you finally admit and own up to the darkness that lives inside you.”

I hold out my hand. “We’ve been enemies for years, Glory. It’s time we bury the hatchet and preferably not in one another’s skull.”

“You want to make peace?”

“Yes,” I answer, nodding my head “and I mean it.  I really do.”

Glory stares at my hand skeptically for a few moments and then back up at me before finally accepting the handshake.

“You have always been an enigma, Sophie, but despite your tricks and mind games, you have always been honest with me.  Sure, I’ll take you at your word.  Let’s make peace.  Just answer one question...”

She grins knowingly “…did Mark put you up to it?”

“Bloody hell,” I roll my eyes “am I that obvious?!”

“No, I just know you too well.” She responds with slight laughter.

“If you know me so well, then you should also know that I truly mean it when I say that I respect your father and his wrestling legacy.  You may wish to create a new Braddock Wrestling Legacy but I wish to maintain the original that he taught us.  So that is why I ask…” a deep sigh escapes my lips “…for permission to take up that mantle.”

“Sophie is asking permission?” She smirks. “I should really record this for posterity.”

“Shut it and just give me an answer.”

She giggles but nods her head. “Yes, Sophie, go right ahead; because what you spelled out, that’s not me.  You can have it.”

“Thank you, Glory…” I smile with satisfaction written across my face “…you have no idea what this means.”

==========

Scene 2

Off Camera

==========

Later that evening after my meeting with Glory Braddock, I decided to meet Mark and his girlfriend Ashley for dinner at a steakhouse in Phoenix, Arizona.  It is a dark atmosphere inside this restaurant with a somewhat western style theme to it.  At a rather large rectangular table my brother sits next to his lovely girlfriend Ashley, he in blue jeans, black boots, and a black “SCW” t-shirt while Ashley looks just a smidgen more refined than that, wearing a nice top and a maxi skirt with sandals.  I sit next to my brother, wearing a modest pencil dress with its beautiful rose patterned lace fabric in black that features a fashionable flared peplum waist line.  We’ve just been seated and are now waiting for our waitress to come and take up our orders.

 “Where the hell is she?!  I’m hungry!”  As anyone can tell by his bellowing, my ignorant baboon of a brother has little patience.  I roll my eyes but Ashley cannot help but laugh at his outburst.

 “What?  What’s funny?”  The poor oaf has no idea, does he?  His blonde girlfriend merely slaps him lightly on his back.

 “Nothing, Mark!  Just sit back and enjoy yourself!” Ashley answers back sweetly.

“There are two things I enjoy more than anything else…fighting and eating; and right now there’s no one here to fight.”

 “Actually,” Ashley holds up three fingers “there’s three things you enjoy more than anything else, Mark.”

Ashley grins knowingly, but Mark just stares at her dumbfounded.  “Huh?  What’s the third?”

 She gives him a playful shove.  “Me!”

My idiot brother’s face turns beet red.  Even I cannot help but laugh at his situation.  Despite the fun and games, my brother is still hungry and the impatient tapping of his foot tells that story.  To be honest, I’m getting a little famished myself.  Thankfully, I don’t have to wait too much longer until a waitress finally arrives at our table.  She is a curvy brunette who seems rather perky and cheerful.

She’ll probably annoy the hell out of me.

 “Hi, guys!  My name is Katie.  May I take your drink orders first?” She asks with a grin on her face and a pen and notepad ready to jot down the orders.

 “I’ll have anything alcoholic.”  Mark responds with a grunt which results in more laughter from our table.

 “Awesome!” Katie responds with a giggle as she scribbles down Mark’s order, for what it’s worth.  “And you, ma’am?”

 “I think I’ll just have a Pepsi, please.” Ashley answers back.

 “Can do.” Katie scribbles that order down and then turns to me.  “And for you, ma’am?”

“Guinness.” I answer.

“Great,” she scribbles it down “I’ll bring it right out!”

The waitress walks off in order to fill those orders.  As soon as she’s gone Mark lets out a sigh of relief.

“Finally!”

“You really should learn patience, dear brother.”

“Your sister is right, Mark.” Ashley says with a wink.

“Yeah, is that so?” Mark doesn’t seem so pleased as he turns to face me. “Well did she do what she promised to do?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Braddock.” He snarls. “Did you try to make peace with them?”

I roll my eyes. “You can take the tone out of your voice, Mark, and yes, I did make peace.”

“Who did ya talk to?”

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes!” He exclaims.

“I spoke with Glory.”

“Glory?” He sighs. “You shoulda spoke to Glenn.”

“Glory, Glenn, Julia, what does it matter?” I shrug my shoulders. “Point is, I made peace.  Everything is fine now.  Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, I guess it’ll do…”

“It will have to do,” I remark, “because I am not going back to do it again.  We have to move forward with our plans for Rise To Greatness.”

“Whoa, hold on a second,” this time it’s Ashley, not Mark, who interrupts “the way I see it, Mark has no vested interest here.”

“Ash, you don’t have to get involved.”

“Yes, I do.” Ashley responds. “I don’t want Sophie using you to further HER career.”

“Now that’s not fair, Ash…”

“Hold on, Mark,” I respond “she makes a valid point.”

I look over to Ashley. “Trust me, Ashley, I am not going to selfishly use my brother for my own ends.  The Rise To Greatness Pre-Show…or Bree-Show or whatever the hell those idiots want to call it…I face Giovanni Ares, that much is true, and yes, I could use Mark’s…moral support…”

“You mean cheating to help you win?”

I smirk knowingly. “You can call it that if you wish.  But there’s no saying that Mark can’t get SOMETHING out of this weekend.”

“Watcha mean?” Mark says with a curious look on his face.

“You and I have been world tag team champions twice in GDW and twice in MWA.  That’s four times total.  We know how to succeed as a tag team and we could easily succeed here in SCW’s tag team division.”

“Are you saying…”

“Yes,” I nod my head “I’m saying we could enter Scaffold Scramble.  Now is that a guarantee we could get the tag title shot?  No, it’s not even a guarantee one of us gets a singles title shot, it’s not even a guarantee we get into the match at all, but if I talk to the right people, pull the right  strings, then maybe I can get us in.”

“Maybe that bloody Blake Mason dude can throw money around and buy Mr. D off!” Mark exclaims.

“I seriously doubt that would work, dear brother.  But all I want out of this Scaffold Scramble is the opportunity to get revenge, revenge against The Sisterhood.  We were on our fourth reign as tag team champions when they ended our run of tag team dominance in this sport and we haven’t been the same since.  It’s time to make them pay…with their careers…”

==========

On Camera

==========

Giovanni Ares, I want to be serious with you for a moment.  If it weren’t for your deluded babbling about lizard people and wonderland and every other inane topic under the sun that you’ve been rambling about since coming to Supreme Championship Wrestling, I might be inclined to accept your offer.

Someone with the…ahem…unique mental situation that you have, I can work with that. I can work great magic with that.  Jules is a bit of a wanker, though, but I figure I could ignore him.  You and I could work great magic in this company, exposing the lies of the imposters, tearing down the veil of hypocrisy that pervades Supreme Championship Wrestling.

I might be inclined to accept your offer, Gio.  In fact,  I still might accept.  You never know the long term plans of Sophie O’Brian.  For Sun Tzu says, “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”

You won’t know what I will do to you until this bloody Bree Show kicks off.  Will we be allies?  Will I burn your face?  And if I do burn your face you can better believe that it won’t be for Mr. D, a lizard king, or anyone else.  Anything and everything I do is for one person…

…me.

If I side with you, it will be to further my own goals.  If I destroy you, it will be for my own purposes.  I do what I do for my own reasons to further my ultimate long term goals here in this company, goals and plans that I alone know about.

My own brother doesn’t even know the long term end game of this, primarily because I trust him to keep it a secret.

So if you fit into my plans, Gio, then I may let you live.  Otherwise, just live natural selection, you will go into extinction.  Your wonderland will become a burning blaze of nightmares as I burn it down into ash.  And I will do it for me…

…no one else…

And time remaining, hopefully, maybe, after I have had my play date in Wonderland, then perhaps Mark and I will make an appearance at Rise To Greatness?  Perhaps we will climb up a scaffold.  There’s still an old grudge we’d love to settle.  A grudge against Angelica Jones and Kayla Jones.

And we’d love to be tag team champions.

But that’s up in the air, that’s if SCW is willing to let us enter that bloody brawl.  First and foremost in my mind is this little Bree-Show and Giovanni Ares.  I have not forgotten you, my friend, nor will I forget you.  How could I forget someone as unique as you?  I’ve been called many things in my life…a sociopath, a psychopath, a monster…but I can honestly say you are the first to call me the agent of the lizard king.

That’s certainly a new one.

Trust me, Gio, I do what I do because I want to do it.  I work for myself, not for anyone else.  And what I choose to do this Rise To Greatness weekend is because I chose to do it.  No other reason.

Making Peace

==========

Off Camera

==========

Most in my position would be quite disappointed, some would even go as far as to use the term ‘depressed’, considering the circumstances I find now myself in.  You see, I am a professional athlete, a wrestler, and I made my debut in Supreme Championship Wrestling in their Taking Hold of the Flame event.  To say I made an impact upon the troglodytes would be quite the understatement.  You could go as far as to say that I was ‘on fire’ in my SCW debut.

Or at least my opponents were, after I performed Scorched Earth Policy.

Ever since Taking Hold of the Flame, the SCW roster sat up and took notice that Sophie O’Brian was here, I had arrived, and that I meant business.  But in my Breakdown performances since the Taking Hold of the Flame event, my SCW career has been rather stalled and stagnant to say the least.

I lost to Tina Valentine.

My match against Gigi Steward never happened.

Now I have a match coming up against Jake Starr on the final Breakdown before Rise To Greatness.  Many consider this a must win for me in order to continue to remain relevant, in order to continue to be spoken of in the championship consideration.

Those who believe such nonsense are short-sighted individuals.  These individuals are thinking short term and not long term.  Long term thinking and planning will win you the day.  When the Visigoths lay siege to Rome, they knew they had the Romans right where they wanted them.  It was just a matter of waiting them out.  The hunger and pervading sickness eventually broke Roman Pride and they gave up and let the Visigoths in the city walls.

These individuals are also guilty of thinking in materialistic terms.  Carrying around a championship belt isn’t as important to me as what I really wish to do in Supreme Championship Wrestling and that is to use this place as my personal experiment.  SCW is my laboratory and my fellow wrestlers are my test subjects.  I wish to push them all to the limits of what the human mind can endure until they break; until they snap.

Everyone has a breaking point.  No one is pure as snow, no one is as innocent as a lamb.  Everyone has a dark side.  It’s just a matter of figuring out what will push each individual to that limit.  Some try to put on a bigger mask than others.  Those individuals would be your heroes, your people like Selena Frost, Kelcey Wallace, or Amy Chastaine.  They think they can be honest and pure but truthfully, if you were to push the right buttons at just the right time, they would become just as wicked as some of the ‘villains’ that the SCW fans revile; villains such as Regan Street, Vixen Cain, or Ethan Von Aaron.

It may be difficult to find what will push the SCW roster over the edge, but I am quite confident I can do just that.  Other members of the human race, however, are not quite as challenging or difficult to figure out…

…case in point, these disgusting slobs, the slime of humanity, who drunkenly made fools of themselves as they either get into fights over a game of billiards, failing miserably to pick up the latest attractive female to enter the establish, or a host of other foolish actions.

The bar curves into the dark barely lit room.  Through the windows, the diamonds of lead panes, trickles the sallow light of street-lamps.  The smell has changed over the years.  Once it was of cigarette smoke only, the perfume that clung to clothing, skin and furniture alike.  Now it is stale beer and body odor.  There are establishments that are more like restaurants now; all clean with waiting staff.

Not here.  It was always a den of debauchery, alcoholism and the great unwashed of the town.  It still is.  No one comes here with anything wholesome in mind.  This is why I truly do enjoy this singular tavern in my home of Belfast, Northern Ireland.  I can still come here and get a good microcosm of the truth of the human condition.

I find myself sitting on a stool at the bar.  I’m attired in a spaghetti strap v-neck backless bodycon geo-pattern mini-dress with sequins.  The dress extends to just above the knee.  My feet are encased in sexy peep toe sling black high heeled shoes.  My long black hair hangs unrestrained to shoulder length.  A half-empty glass of Guinness sits in front of me.

It’s just my first glass, I’m not drunk yet.  I know better than to do that in this kind of environment.  Besides, I have taken certain other precautions as well.  I expect to be the center of attention in a place like this wearing a dress like this.  It’s what I want, really.  Part of the games I play.  It’s sort of like fishing, really.  I’m just waiting for the first bite.

And here it comes.

“Uh, hey babe…”

The slurred male voice is enough to tell me that I have finally attracted some attention around here.  About time, too. It’s been a rather boring evening.  I do not even bother to turn to face this drunken buffoon.  I wait for him to continue digging his grave.

“Uh, hey,” he steps into my peripheral vision, sitting down on the bar stool next to me “you hear me, sexy?  I said hey…”

“I heard you, troglodyte.” I remark calmly and with a grin on my face. “But my name is not ‘sexy’, my name is Sophie.”

“Yeah but you are sexy, Sophie.” He says with a slur.

Your typical response might depend on what kind of woman you are.  Some may take that as a compliment.  Others may take that as offensive.  Still others would take that as an invention to intercourse.  I prefer none of those three tracks.  My choice of reaction is unique to myself and my own preferences.  I merely smile at him with a warm, inviting smile.  He may think he’s winning me over, but it’s just a ploy.  Nothing more.

“I would thank you for the compliment, but I have the strangest feeling that you’re coming onto me, which is not necessarily a problem, but I do not even know your name.”

The man, slightly drunk and raggedly looking as I finally turn to get a good look at him in full view, just stares as me quizzically.  It is clear that he had a problem following what I just said.

“Uh…”

“What is your name?”

“Oh!” It’s like a light bulb went off in his head as he finally figures it out. “Uh, Jake…”

Jake.  How appropriate.  I will be locked in combat with a man named Jake on the next edition of Breakdown.  I somewhat doubt that Jake Starr will be as inept and foolish as this Jake, but still, it is quite appropriate and quite ironic.

“Well nice to meet you, Jake.” I offer out my hand and he accepts the handshake.

“Want me to, uh…” his voice trails off as the drunkard named Jake tries to find the right words “…uh, want me to buy you a beer?”

A smirk spreads across my face.  I raise up my glass of half-empty Guinness to his face. “But I already have a drink, Jake.”

“Yeah, but I can get you another,” he motions to my glass “cause that one is, like, almost empty.”

A low chuckle escapes my throat. “Oh Jake, you need to try and be an optimist.  I don’t look at this glass as half-empty but instead as half-full.”

“Opti-what?”

The look of sheer confusion on his face combined with his slurred language as he struggles to figure out what he just heard from me is pure amusement.  I keep my amusement contained as I continue to play with him, like a cat playing with its food.

“Optimist, Jake; one who looks on the bright side of life.”I take a sip of my Guinness and set it back down on the bar.  I stare down at it and then gaze back up at Jake with a wicked grin on my face. “Or perhaps more devious thoughts are on your mind, sweet prince?”

“Huh?” The look of confusion on Jake’s face deepens, if that is even possible.

“Try and keep up, Jake, as hard as that may be for you in your inebriated condition.”

“Inebre-what?”

“Inebriated.  You’re drunk.”

“Oh…” he grins and nods his head “…well yeah…”

“Right, you’re drunk, and I think you want me to get drunk as well.” I hold my glass of Guinness. “This is just my first glass, only half-empty.  Now you already want me to down another so quickly?”

I shake my head and make a ‘tsk tsk’ sound. “Dear, Jake, you’re trying to get me drunk.”

“Uh…well…no…why would I do that?”

“Why, to get into my pants.”

He blinks furiously, quizzically. “Uh, you’re not wearing pants.”

“How observant of you, troglodyte.”

“What’s that?” He says slowly, his slurred voice becoming even more pronounced.

“A troglodyte, Jake,” I point a long slender carefully manicured finger at him “is you.”

“Oh, then, thanks for compliment, I guess.”

I laugh at his ignorance.  “Well then, you’re welcome…troglodyte.”

I grin knowingly.  This entire time I’ve been pushing him, trying to see how far and how much it will take to cause him to make the wrong move.  I believe I have reached that point.

“Thankssss,” he smirks “sexy…”

He leans over and kisses me on the cheek.  Big mistake.

“Oh Jake,” I chuckle lightly “it’s been nice knowing you.”

“Huh?” He is clearly confused, as usual, but before he can ask any further questions he is rushed by another figure, much bigger and far more muscular and built, wearing denim jeans, a black shirt with holes in it, and a black leather jacket.

My brother, Mark O’Brian.

He grabs Jake by the neck and throws him roughly off of the stool he was sitting on. “Get your damn hands off her, fuck face!”

“What the hell?!” Jake remarks in shock. “The hell are you, her boyfriend or somethin’?”

“Worse for you, scum.” Mark sneers. “I’m her brother.”

Jake pulls himself up slowly.  He looks at Mark and then he looks at me.  I grin knowingly and nod my head.  He then turns back at Mark and scowls.

“Incest?!  Sick!”

I roll my eyes, in awe at this man’s ignorance.  Mark is just offended as he rears back with his right hand and punches him in the face, knocking him down and out cold on the floor.  Immediately I hope up off of the stool and take my over-protective brother by the arm and tug gently just to get his attention.

“Come, Mark.  We should leave before the manager of this fine establishment decides to call authorities.”

“Fights happen all the time here.” Mark scoffs. “He never calls.”

“Better to be safe.” I respond as I give his arm another tug. “Now come along.”

Mark sighs and finally relents, turning and following me away from the bar and towards the exit.  Before leaving, I reach into Mark’s pocket, produce some cash, and slap it down on the bar.  I look up at the bartender a grin knowingly.

“A little extra,” I wink “for all the trouble we caused.  Never let it be said that my brother and I do not clean up after our messes…or at least pay for them, anyway.”

That being said, we head back towards the door and I quickly push open the door marked ‘exit’ and step outside, with my brother Mark by my side, out into the busy streets of Belfast.  Once outside I can feel my brother’s eyes staring a hole right through me.  It isn’t long before I hear his voice, as well.

“Why the hell do you always feel the need to make a scene?”

“Me make a scene?” I ask, feigning innocence as we walk past other pedestrians, all of whom ignore our very presence, all of whom are completely unaware of what just happened. “I wasn’t the one who punched Jake’s lights out.”

“You’re pinning that on me?!” He exclaims. Mark points an accusatory finger at me. “You provoked the bloke!”

“Perhaps I did,” I say with a chuckle “but you reacted.  And maybe you reacted improperly.”

I shrug my shoulders. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, really.  You just proved my point about humanity.”

“You know I hate that.” Mark says with a low growl. “I hate being a part of your silly fucking experiments.”

“They are not silly.  I’m merely trying to make a point.”

“A point about what?” He demands. “Are you just trying to prove you’re better than everyone else?”

Absolutely not.” I retort. “I am just as fallen, dark, and flawed as you or anyone else with the human condition.  My point isn’t that I am better but that the human condition itself is a flawed state, that all are fallen, that no one is pure and good.  That is why I do what I do, my dear brother, and proving it day in and day out by torturing the heroes of society gives me great joy.”

Mark looks over at me with a frown. “You’re sick.”

“I completely agree.”

Immediately Mark and I share a hearty laugh.  I knew Mark would leap to my protection in that bar.  He knew he would too.  It’s part of the flaw of the human condition.  In this case his flaw is being overprotective of me.  Though I understand why.  He was protective of me when we were growing up together, brother and sister, under the ruthless care of our abusive drunk of a father.  Father would routinely beat me, and Mark would always be there to defend me.  That’s why, to this day, I do enjoy torturing drunks at bars the way I did today.  That’s why I enjoy luring them into traps, traps that will typically include the drunk getting his ass kicked by my enraged brother.

There are times when we squabble and argue, fuss and fight, but we are close, closer than most siblings, and we always have each other’s back.  When one is in danger, the other will always be there to back them up.  That is why I brought Mark with me to Supreme Championship Wrestling.  I want him there by my side, watching my back.

“Yeah, well, as sick as you are, it will take more than the cheap mind games and tricks you pulled in that dive in order to beat Jake Starr on Breakdown.”

“Ah yes, the OTHER Jake.”

Jake Starr is a superstar in Supreme Championship Wrestling in the truest sense of the term, as he has held multiple championships in the course of his SCW career.  What impresses me about him is that he has never pretended to be any different than the person he really and truly is.

An asshole, specifically one who will do anything to get what he wants.  His use of the steel chair against the opposition has not gone unnoticed by me during my research for this match.  He never pretended to be saint or a hero.  He just is who he is.

I respect that.

“How you gonna handle him, sis?”

“That depends on what you mean.” I begin with a grin on my face. “If you mean how will I wrestle him, then I will do what I always do, and that is to be the technically sound submission expert I know myself to be.  I will wear him down, focus on a body part, and try to tap him out.”

Mark shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I thought as much.” I snicker. “He’s an interesting case because he isn’t like Tina Valentine, someone who falsely believes in the unrealistic notion of redemption, falsely believes that she can change.”

I shake my head. “That may be Tina Valentine but it isn’t Jake Starr.”

“Well, who is Jake Starr?”

“Jake Starr,” I begin with a confident smirk on my face “is quite possibly the best example of the true human condition that Mr. D and Supreme Championship Wrestling could have provided for me.  Oh and trust me, Mark, I will exploit it, I will exploit it to my heart’s desire.”

“I don’t get you, Sophie.” Mark says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Maybe I never will.”

“You don’t have to understand me, dear brother, you just have to be supportive.  That’s all I ask.”

“You know how supportive I am.” Mark says, almost in a defensive tone. “I am very supportive, sometimes more supportive than I should be.”

I arch a brow as I stare at my brother. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Glenn.”

The one singular name means a great deal to both Mark and I.  He is referencing Glenn Braddock, the man who trained both of us, the man who rescued us from our terrible situation and helped us to make new lives for ourselves.  Immediately after uttering Glenn’s name we stop walking, and he stares down at me accusingly.  Clearly he is disappointed at me.

I have a sneaking suspicion about what this is all about.

“Why’d you have to assault him, Sophie?”

“I would hardly call a kick to the groin an assault…” I respond, rolling my eyes.

That eye roll was a mistake.

“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, Sophie!” He snaps at me angrily. It’s very rare that Mark ever loses his temper with me.  I fear very few things; Mark’s temper is one of them. “That man saved our bloody lives and you disrespect him by attacking him?!”

“Look, maybe I went a little too far by attacking him,” I say, backtracking just a little, “but look at his bloody children!  Look at Glory and Julia!  Julia has lost her damn fool mind and suffice it to say that Glory has slipped.  She is not the best in the world any longer.  She let the cheers and adulation of the fans get to her, she bought into her hype.”

I motion to myself. “I am taking up the mantle of the Braddock legacy, and one day Glenn will thank me.”

Mark shakes his head. “Fine, I get what you’re saying, especially about Julia.  She’s nuts.”

“That’s being mild.”

“Not gonna comment on Glory, but damn it Sophie, even if you are gonna take up the Braddock legacy and revive it as you claim, you should at least make peace with them.”

I stare at Mark closely and intensely.  As much as it pains me to admit it, he may be right to a degree.  I nod my head.

“Fine, I will reach out an olive branch of peace to the Braddock family.” I place a hand on Mark’s chest. “But only because you asked me to.”

“That’s all I ask.”

==========

On Camera

==========

You have Selena Frost ripping off the fans of the world with a cheap merchandising gimmick in which she tells her “True Believers” to “Believe it”…

You have people like Kennedy Street and Tina Valentine, both of whom are either lying to the world as they lull the idiots into a false sense of security, or they truly are stupid enough to believe that redemption is possible, that they have fooled themselves into believing that they can change…

You have Kelcey Wallace and Donovan Kayl, who participated in an orchestrated assault on another human being when they claimed they were above that and better than that…

…these are the reasons I chose to make my appearance in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  SCW is ripe with the flawed, the weak-willed, the corrupt…it is teeming with dark, vile individuals who are fooling themselves into thinking they are honorable.

It is my goal to unmask them all and prove to the world, or at least SCW on a smaller scale, that deep down inside, everyone is a sociopath.

Then there is Jake Starr.

You are different, Jake.  Unlike so many other frauds and con-men who run rampant in this company, you have never lied about who you were, you never fooled yourself into thinking you could change.  You are who you are and you don’t change and you don’t apologize for it.

I can respect that.  In fact, I would go as far as to say that I admire your work a great deal.

I am the ultimate student of the game, Jake.  I do my homework on my enemies, even old enemies who I believe could become enemies again.  I once had a big rivalry with The Sisterhood, Angelica and Kayla Jones.  They were thorns in your side too, if I remember correctly.

I know this because I watched Angelica and Kayla’s career in SCW.  I watched their feud with you.  And you had better believe that I enjoyed it.  Each and every time you took that steel chair and brought it down upon their back or head or rib cage, I cheered.  I smiled.  The violence brought tears to my eyes.

It truly was a thing of beauty.

That is who you are, Jake.  Most would make excuses for why they did that, most would argue that it was a different time, that they had changed.  But not you.  You embrace who you are and you make no apologies for who you are.

You are the embodiment of what I call the true human condition.  The peons and troglodytes in SCW, they are all just like you.  They just don’t want to admit it.  They do not want to admit they are like a violent, brutal, chair shot artist like you.

Just as they do not wish to admit that they are all like a sociopath…a sociopath like me…

You and I are a rare breed, Jake, and that is why it is my deepest honor and privilege to face you on Breakdown.  I will enjoy breaking you down, slowly but surely, until there is nothing left.  I will enjoy ripping and tearing at you until you succumb and you tap out.

Until you quit.

And you should know that I am capable of taking you apart just as I have described, because we are not all that different.  I care not for the well being of my fellow man and woman.  I enjoy seeing the pain and suffering.  You should know that I will do anything to bring that pain and that suffering to my opponents.

You just happen to be that opponent, Jake.

Sucks to be you.