Interim United States Championship (2)

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Off Camera

Scene 1

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The Braddock Wrestling School is an amazing sight in the daylight.  Students who attend the school are struck by the near run-down appearance of the legendary establishment, an establishment that still pumps out some of the best wrestlers in the world today.  In the moonlight of night time in London, England it is almost a fearful sight.  It looks like a place you want to avoid for fear of being mugged.  But for me, this place is neither an awe-inspiring sight nor is it a fearful sight.  It is the place where I honed my craft, where I learned the art of defending myself.  This is where the true best wrestler in the world taught me how to be a wrestler myself.  Whether it is daytime or nighttime, this place, to me, can be described with just one word; home.

This building contains wonderful memories of me, my brother, and our good friend Glory Braddock training together, learning the tools of the trade together under the infamous Glenn Braddock.   Glenn Braddock rescued me from the horrible home situation I had been in.  Well, it was a combination of my brother and Glenn.  Our father was an abusive drunk who regularly beat us.  Mark finally stood up to him and beat his ass one day and walked out.  That left me alone to take all of the abuse myself.  Little did I know that Mark was receiving training from the great Glenn Braddock in how to be a wrestler.  One day Mark returned for me and brought me out and introduced me to Mr. Braddock and thus my road to professional wrestling had begun.

That is the truth that most individuals know about me, but that isn’t the entire story.  The fact is that a great deal of my history is left out in this story.  Even Glenn Braddock himself is out of the loop regarding the truth behind what made me who I am today.  Glenn Braddock, and by extension my brother, only played a part in my salvation.  I learned but the art of professional wrestling from Glenn Braddock, the man known in Europe as “Britain’s Best”. The rest of what I know and what makes up my darkened, blackened soul comes from the woman known as Quinn Murray.

I learned most of my strategic abilities and knowledge from that strange mysterious woman.  I worshiped her.  I was, for all practical purposes, her slave; her possession.  I did not mind because she, in turn, taught me everything she knew and I knew that I could use her wisdom and knowledge to get by in the world.  I left Quinn…or “abandoned” her as she puts it...immediately after Glenn Braddock secured a contract for my brother and I to wrestle with Global Division of Wrestling.

I have since returned to the tutelage of Quinn Murray.  I thought it necessary ever since my own career started to hit a downward spiral.  Things begun to pick up steam with a submission victory over Billy Breakdown but the true test comes at SCW Unflawed.  How far can I go in my quest to become SCW United States Champion?  Can I win the battle royal AND defeat AJ Helms in the same night?  Quinn tells me that I can, so long as I listen to everything she says.

That may all be well and good, but she doesn’t know the wrestling business the way Glenn Braddock does.  Glenn is the best wrester in the world.  I may have sworn allegiance to Quinn Murray, but I’m no idiot.  I know Glenn Braddock is the one to go to for wrestling advice.  If anyone can confirm that I’m doing the right thing, it’s him.

My fancy black Lexus pulls up in the parking lot in the dead of night.

After coming to a stop near the front, I turn the car off and exit.  Then I walk towards the school.  I walk with a purpose and a clear determination in my stride until I get to the front door.   I stop and push the door open.  Inside I find the lights are dimly lit and no one is anywhere in sight.  Equipment is strewn about.  It looks like a warzone.  But that’s normal.  For Glenn Braddock, the end result is everything.  He doesn’t have time to make sure everything is fancy.  His methodology is not chaos but it is not cruel. His methodology has been quite similar to that of a drill sergeant.  He was tough but fair and did not care if everything was pretty.  He just wanted the job done.

“Glenn?  Are you here?”

There is no answer.  Then I notice that the office light is turned on.  As I start to head towards the office the light turns off.  I can hear the door shutting.  I stop walking as I see Glenn Braddock emerging.  A grin spreads across my face as I resume my walk towards him.  He looks on at me with a perplexed gaze.

“Sophie?”

“That’s right, Glenn.”

A warm, friendly smile crosses across my face as I slowly make my way across the gym floor.  I open my arms for an embrace and Glenn does the same.  We embrace in a tight hug, almost like father and daughter.  And truthfully, in a way, Glenn has been more of a father to me than even my own biological father.  George O’Brian, my actual father, was an abusive drunk who routinely beat Mark and I.  We needed an escape and Glenn Braddock provided that escape.  He also was a father figure for the both of us.

“Bloody hell, Sophie!” Glenn exclaims with a smile of his own on his face. “You have any idea what time it is?!”

“About midnight, I’d say.”

“Exactly.  What the hell are you doing here at this time of night?!” He exclaims. “You should be at home getting some rest.  Don’t think I don’t keep up with your career.  You have a battle royal to win AND a title match after that if you DO manage to win!”

I nod my head in agreement.  His assessment of my situation is quite correct.  Endurance will be necessary for me to win at Unflawed.  What he doesn’t realize is that peace of mind is more important for me right now and only he can give me that peace of mind.

“You know damn well that I keep long hours, Mr. Braddock,” I remark with a wink “a trait I learned from my trainer, might I add.”

“True enough.” He chuckles. “I guess the tradition of working long hours will never end; at least not until I hand over the control of Braddock Wrestling School to my daughter.”

“I thought Glory was already in charge of this place now?” I ask curiously.

“Not entirely.” He shakes his head. “Glory is only in charge of the actual training aspect.  I still run the business side of it.  So I still stay here late checking the books and helping the occasional student who drops in for free advice.”

“Like me?” I grin knowingly.

“You always went above and beyond the call of duty, Sophie.  Even Glory admits you were a harder worker than she was.  It was as if you wanted to learn as much as humanly possible.”

He’s right, of course.  I did want to learn as much as possible and I always have been willing to make sacrifices in order to gain the wisdom necessary to advance myself.  I sacrificed time I could have spent with my family and friends, time I could have spent sleeping, all so I could spend late hours at the Braddock Wrestling School.  And in the same way I sacrificed my freedom so I could learn from Quinn Murray how to manipulate my way to the top.  The quest for wisdom has always been a top priority of mine.

“You know me well, Glenn.  And that’s partially why I stopped by to see you.  I want your advice on something.”

“Partially why?” He repeats with an arched brow.  I sigh and nod my head.

“Yes, partially.  And I know that I do not deserve your help or advice on anything at all.  I have been a horrible friend to your daughter, I have showed no appreciation for what you did for me, and if you wanted to kick me out right now, I would completely understand.”

There is a brief pause before the grizzled veteran standing before me reaches out with his hand and, curiously, touches the back of it to my forehead.  I look at him, furrowing my own brow out of curiosity.

“What’s wrong?”

“I wanted to check if you were sick.  You don’t sound like the Sophie O’Brian I know.”

“I’m being serious, Glenn!” I exclaim with some tears forming in my eyes. “I apologize for disrespecting you in the past several months.  I hope you will forgive me.”

“Forget about it, Sophie.” He places a strong but firm hand on my shoulder to try and comfort me. “You made mistakes, yes, but we all make mistakes. That’s what makes us human.  All that means is you’re just as human as the rest of us.  Do you think that I care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?”

I pride myself on keeping my emotions in check.  The tears, though, were just the beginning.  The dam now breaks in full and I embrace Glenn Braddock in a tight hug, burying my face in his chest.

“I love you, Glenn!”

“Ah forget about it, Sophie!” He pats me on the back. “Now knock off the water works and let’s get to that advice you needed.  What do you want help with?”

“You mean it?”

“Of course.” We break the embrace and he smiles warmly at me. “I’ll help you with anything.”

“I just have a question.  That’s all.  You know I’ve been with Supreme Championship Wrestling for nearly a year now and I haven’t accomplished much of anything…”

“Yeah, and knowing you the way I do, you probably are kicking yourself right now because your standard and expectations that you set for yourself are just way too damn high.”

Damn.  He does know me well.

“But Glenn, I am a former four time world champion.  Yet I couldn’t make much more than a whimper in the SCW universe let alone make any real noise or any real impact.  I know I can be a force of nature, Glenn.  I just know it.”

“And whose fault is it that you were not a force of nature?”

“My own.”

“Good.” He nods his head approvingly. “At least you’re not trying to pass the buck.”

“No, I admit to my mistakes and I decided to fix it.  I just needed to know that I did the right thing.”

“Depends upon what you did, isn’t it?” He asks, looking at me curiously, obviously expecting an answer.

“That’s hard to explain.” I answer with some reluctance. “Let’s just say that I took on someone to help manage my career, someone to keep me focused on the task at hand.”

“Do I know this person?”

“No.” I shake my head.

“Harumph…I’ve never been a fan of managers of any sort, regardless of the type of manager this is…but it is your choice, your life, and if you trust them then, well, that’s on you.”

“So wait, is that approval of not?”

“You don’t need approval from me, Sophie. You are your own woman.  All you need to ask yourself is do you trust this person.  So…do you trust this person?”

“I guess I do…”

“You better be damn sure you trust her.” He says sternly. “In my time I’ve seen so many promising careers get ruined by greedy managers.  Be sure you can trust them, Sophie, or ditch them.  It’s just that simple.”

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Off Camera

Scene 2

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The previous day I had spoken with Glenn Braddock, seeking some sort of advice on my situation.  Glenn Braddock is one of the few people I trust with my life.  Unfortunately he could not give me a clear cut answer one way or the other about whether or not I was doing the right thing.  He basically told me to trust my own judgment.  I was on my own.

Now I find myself in Dublin, Ireland; the home of Quinn Murray.  Ivy and ferns grew through the crevices of the old winding stone path, which led directly to the colossal structure. The mansion loomed proudly behind creaky iron gates, flanked by rows of skeletal trees crowned in crimson, swaying gently to the chilly autumn wind. At its threshold stood the delicate marble fountain, the soft gurgling of the clear water melodic as it resonated in the surrounding silence.

The house itself was new. Very new. It looked like it had been finished last week. It looked almost too new in some strange way. It was as if it had rolled off a production line, but they had forgotten to apply the mandatory layer of color to it. The windows were huge and seemingly inspired by something truly alien. Anyone could see into the house from an uncomfortable distance. From here, I could see surfaces of white, glossy plastic that iced over the kitchen, granite enforced the walls in their straight, uninspired monotony. There wasn't a single square meter of organic material in sight. Not even a comforting wallpaper that imitated warmth in some way. Not even a plank of wood. The house, it seems, was a livable, modern mausoleum.

I approach the front door and ring the doorbell.  I wait patiently but it isn’t long until the door opens.  An older gentleman wearing a black and white butler’s uniform opens the door.

“Ah, Ms. O’Brian; Ms. Murray is expecting you.” He turns and starts to walk back into the house, almost as if he knows I will follow him. “Follow me.”

Sure enough, I do follow him into this giant home.  I follow the butler down the hall towards a set of elevators.  He presses the button to call for the elevators.  They slide open and I step inside.  The doors close and immediately they head towards the top.  It is a slightly longer ride than most elevators, for this is a multi-story home.  Eventually the elevator ride does come t o an end and the doors slide open directly into the private office of Quinn Murray; a huge room occupying the corner of the building with floor-to-ceiling windows giving views in two directions. The two remaining walls contained a door, a low bookshelf, and a single oil painting - a vase of flowers by Vincent van Gogh.

“I am so glad you could make it, my dear Sophie.”

This is the voice of Quinn Murray.  She is seated at her black leather swivel chair at the immaculate mahogany desk with three drawers on the right hand side and a mac book pro.  Off to the side is a filling cabinet with paper work stacked on top and a water dispenser with no cups.

“Not that I had much of a choice, my Mistress.”

“No, you didn’t.” She motions to a chair near the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Just as I said, it isn’t like I have much of a choice.  So I nod my head and sit down.  I scan the room again and then look back at Quinn.

“You have redecorated since the last time I was here.”

“I was wondering if you would notice.”

“And that butler, is that the same one…is that James?”

“The one and the same.” Quinn remarks, nodding her head. “He’s served me loyally for a long time, my dear.  Unlike you.”

“I always called you Mistress.” I snap at her. “James refers to you as Ms. Murray.  Isn’t that disrespectful?”

“No it isn’t stupid girl!  James is a PAID employee of mine; whereas you are my possession.  Therein lies the difference.  And as far as loyalty is concerned, James has been in this office many times in the last six years.” She points a finger at me. “It’s been six years since you were in my office.  Or should I say, it’s been six years since you abandoned me…”

“Yes, of course.” I bow my head in shame. “I apologize.”

“It’s water under the bridge.” She says cheerfully. “We are beginning a new chapter in our relationship.  And that is why we are here today.  You have agreed to give yourself wholly over to me in exchange for the wisdom that I choose to impart upon you.  Is this still our deal?”

“Yes, my Mistress.” I nod my head. “I am your possession.  All I ask is the wisdom necessary to accomplish my goals as a professional wrestler.”

“Quite right, your materialistic goals of winning a piece of gold.  You would think that a wrestling trainer would be good enough to help you in that goal and yet you came crawling back to me, begging to be mine again, knowing that with all my wisdom, I am no wrestler myself.” She smirks knowingly, like a devil incarnate, as she gazes at me with a gleam in her eye. “It makes me wonder just WHY you think I can help?”

“Wrestling is much more than just the physical competition.  Cheap tricks and politics pervade the business.  Case in point; were it not for a multi-layered conspiracy, Syren would not be SCW World Champion right now. Case in point, were it not for cheap tricks and politics Regan Street would not be suspended and this match I’m involved with to crown an Interim United States Champion would not be taking place.”

“Yet you are blessed with the opportunity to become champion as a result of Regan Street’s misfortune.”

“For six years your wisdom helped guide me through the treacherous waters of professional wrestling.  But I’ve lost my way and I need your wisdom now more than ever if I hope to get back to where I was.  Even if I win the championship at Unflawed, I need your wisdom to keep it.”

“Now it all becomes clear.” She laughs nastily.

“Well?  Are you going to help me or not?!”

“Oh ye of little faith; yes, I will help you, Sophie.  We made a deal and I shall uphold my end of the bargain.  But I took a risk on you once before and you abandoned me, you left me!”

“And I promised I would not abandon you again!” I plead with her, shaking my head. “I am your possession and loyal servant now and forever, my Mistress.”

“Not good enough.” She shakes her head. “I want some form of insurance on you and that’s why I asked you here today.”

Quinn Murray slides a document across her desk towards me.  I take a look at it and start skimming it.  The legalize isn’t my thing but I get the gist of it.  I look back up at Quinn with a curious gaze.

“A manager?”

“Yes, it is all quite straightforward in the document.  I am henceforth going to be your manager in this world of wrestling.”

“But you know nothing about wrestling.” I protest. “You said so yourself.”

“Correct, and I have no intentions on interfering with your training.  Just so long as it is with Glenn Braddock.  He is admired in England for a reason and I do not believe he would interfere with our…arrangement.”

That is some good news, at least.  I can resume training with Glenn Braddock.  At least I hope he’ll have me back.

“My dear, Sophie, my toy, I am a businesswoman first and foremost.  Had I known enough about wrestling six years ago I could’ve followed you into the business and ensured that you wouldn’t have made the mistakes that you made.  But I didn’t know enough about wrestling.  I still don’t, but I intend to learn.  Everyone can learn, including your Mistress.”

“How will you possibly manage to survive in this cutthroat world?  You know nothing of it!”

“It has a business side to it, my dear toy, and I am a businesswoman.  I will handle the business aspect of your career until such a time as I’ve learned enough about wrestling.  Then I take full control of your career, just as I have full control of your life.”

“Why?  Why all of this?!”

“Because I don’t fully trust you yet.  You left me once.  This way I can be around you at all times and ensure that you remain loyal to me.”

Immediately I shoot up out of my chair, shaking my head vehemently. “This is going beyond the deal that we had!  You promised me wisdom and knowledge to help guide me through this wrestling, guide me to championships!”

“And I will deliver.  You will have the championship, the glory, and even all of the money and riches that go along with it.  But in return I want you.  I have big plans for you, Sophie.  I cannot tell you what those plans are now, but you can rest assured that I would not do anything to hurt my toys.  I have your future all planned out, my dear.  Just sign the document.”

Glenn Braddock had talked to me about trust.  He asked me if I trusted Quinn Murray.  Do I trust her?  Do I trust with my career and my life?  I grab a pen from her desk and sign the document.

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On Camera

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Allow me to introduce myself.

I am Quinn Murray, and I shall be representing Sophie O’Brian’s business dealings, including but not limited to Supreme Championship Wrestling.

I am more than just a businesswoman or manager for Sophie O’Brian.  But you will learn that in due time.  All that you need to know is that Sophie was once lost but now she has been found.  Sophie was once confused but now she is no longer confused.  I have cleared up the confusion and I have directed her attention where it rightfully should be.

Sophie O’Brian, my weapon of mass destruction, has been aimed at each and every one of the other participants in the battle royal, including AJ Helms himself, and my finger is on the trigger.  At Unflawed, there will be a massacre and there will be a new Interim United States Champion as a result of the massacre.

Her name will be Sophie O’Brian.

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On Camera

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“Sound strategy starts with having the right goal.” --- Michael Porter

I am not referring to the damnable basketball player.  The Michael Porter to which I refer is an American academic known for his theories on economics, business strategy, and social causes.

It is all about goals, ladies and gentlemen.  This was my mistake from the very beginning in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  I did not have the right goals.  I was distracted by meaningless, pointless little endeavors.  But even in failure one can learn, one can grow.  The greatest sign of maturity is admitting when you need help and yes, even I need help sometimes.

Thus my new guide, my new strategic master planner, Quinn Murray, has redirected my focus, and now I am like a laser guided missile, honing in on my target; the target I should have had all along…championship gold in SCW.

“The essence of strategy is choosing what not to do.” --- Michael Porter

But being goal oriented and having the proper goal isn’t the end all be all.  There is much more to the quest than simply being pointed in the right direction.  Knowing what not to do is important as well.  And I can promise you that I am not worried about entertainment like EyeYoshi.  I’m not dumb enough to bring an English Bulldog to the ring.

More importantly, I know enough to realize that in this cutthroat world of professional wrestling, in order to get ahead, you have to put success and victory ahead of everything else.  And that includes family.  This is why we’re in this situation in the first place, is it not, AJ?  You and Regan refused to face each other, she snapped and attacked Mr. D, and now that she’s suspended we’re in a situation where we have no United States Champion.

In a strange way, I guess I should thank you for this golden opportunity…pun intended…but unfortunately the only way I can thank you is by making certain that you will never have to face Regan.  I will do so by taking this Interim United States Championship.  This brass ring that is closer to you than any of us in this battle royal due to the advantage you have of only having to wrestle once, that precious brass ring, I’m going to take it away from you.

I’m focused on that brass ring, Helms.  At Unflawed, it becomes mine and there isn’t a damn thing anyone can do to stop me.