Post by Athena on Apr 3, 2017 16:50:58 GMT -5
*The First Part of the Promo is Not Televised*
8 AM on a Saturday as the scene opens up in Orlando International Airport. With a carry-on suitcase in hand walks Sparta, headphones still hiding his ears as he heads towards the exit. His head nodded to the rhythm of a unfamiliar song, with him even mouthing some of the lyrics. Soon after follows Diablo, suitcase in hand and with a black backpack, while making his way through the airport, he didn't put down his phone for a single second as he talked with someone, trying to keep a calm tone, not wanting any attention on him.
How many times can I tell you, don't come... Please. I don't want you sitting there and watching the entire thing. No... No.
Just as he was about to catch up to Sparta, Blake and Wes walked through the airport, both with their luggage in hand, while Blake had a backpack resting comfortably on her shoulder and a pair of wireless headphones resting around her neck. As they reached the exit, Wes lifted her hand for a second and softly kissed it, right between the second and third knuckles. Blake turned to look at him, both flashing one another a lovely smile. A rental car was waiting for them outside to bring them to the hotel, so they could check-in, leave all their things and head to their first training session of the day. They had a lot to do to prepare for the PPV.
Loud thuds could be heard in the background of a seemingly empty gym as Diablo was working his way through a punching back, practicing both punches and kicks. Only in dark shorts, barefooted and with gloves, his gaze was focused solely at the punching bag. A trainer was standing right besides him, pointing out some mistakes, reminding him about combination possibilities. Sparta was a bit more to the left, with a medicine ball in his hands, doing the squats, his breathing calm and steady. In the center of the gym, Wes was jumping from one leg to the other, warming up and keeping his blood flow high as he looked at his sparring partner.
They just finished trading blows, as Wes still was breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest moving up and down rapidly. A trainer and his assistant were standing right in between them as he was commenting on the combination Wes just performed. Usually, this man wasn't the one to listen to direction well. But this was something completely new to him, so the trainer had Wes undivided attention.
Okay, that is not bad, but don't forget, this is not a boxing match. Don't focus too much on trying to knock him out from the first punch. Your plan is to use your striking to daze him and bring him to the ground. So, lets try a left-left-right and then a kick to knock him down. He's on the ground? Find the best position and apply your preferred submission hold.
Wes nodded as he looked to see if his opponent was ready. Farthest away from all of them was Blake, her body working every single muscle as she was training with silk ropes. Not only did she enjoy this type of workout, because it was something different, but also, it was a good way for her to work on her flexibility, since she wanted to expand her moveset for her title match. Blake knew her strengths, but there was no denying that she needed to bring something new, something she didn't do before. And her training on her flexibility and gymnastics let her have a few new tricks up her sleeve.
A good hour passed and Blake was standing in the ring, now in her ring gear, boots and her hands taped. Her hair was neatly braided in a tight fishtail braid, so that her long locks wouldn't get in the way. Running towards the ropes, she jumped on the middle one, her one hand grabbing the top as she leaped into a moonsault, yet didn't manage to land right, hitting the ground hard and somewhat sideways, since her leg got somewhat caught in the rope. Wes slowly stood up from the bench and stepped in the ring, looking down at Blake, who was laying on her back, breathing heavily. He extended his hand to her as the redhead slowly sat down.
Worried?
"Worried" is not really the right word. I'm more... Nervous. Excited, but really, really nervous. This is my chance. This is my chance to take my rightful place as the best. To become the leader, the face of the division. To finally be champion. The stakes are the highest they have ever been. And I am not facing one person. I'm facing 5 more girls. Even though I've had a match like that before, it still makes me feel.... Uneasy. And I hate that feeling.
But you had championship matches before... Never forget that you were undefeated. You were the one everybody wanted to be and beat.
Yeah, but that was then... Now, it is a completely different ball game. I am not undefeated, I am not a champion. I am so close... So, so close. But at the very same time... So fucking far away. I can't help, but start doubting myself.
Blake slowly stood up as she looked at Wes. He slowly stepped out and she simply started going at it over and over. Moonsault after moonsault, from the ropes, from the turnbuckle. After she landed crooked once more, right after that thud you could hear her voice out loud.
Fuck! Fucking fuck!!
Rubbing her shoulder, she breathed rapidly as it was hard for her to keep her focus. Wes looked through the ropes as he finally stepped in. Blake was sitting on the mat, just fuming over her own self. He kneeled right next to her and softly kissed her on the forehead. You could see the worry in his eyes. He had a match himself, a lot of thoughts running through his head, but no matter what, her well being, her safety, her success was always his main concern. His only care. Wes was ambitious and very arrogant. He didn't care for many. Well, he didn't care about anyone except for himself. But this girl right there was the only exception.
Blake... You are overthinking this. This is all in your head. Do you understand? You are Mercy. The one who takes her opponents quickly, so that they wouldn't suffer. You are such a versatile athlete. You have everything going for you. A winning streak, our support, all you need is to let it go. Take a step back, a good deep breath and just do what we all know you do best. Or do I need to piss off your ass to light that fire underneath you, so you would forget all those unnecessary doubts and just do everything in your power to win?
Blake wrapped her arms around him as she pulled herself in close to his body. He had his own match to worry about, yet he was playing her therapist. And Blake started feeling guilty and a tad embarrassed that the pressure brought her seek comfort and a confidence boost.
Are you not worried at all for your match?
A tad. Sure. But our match is a lot more predictable. The match is 3 against 1. But we all know, that it would be just too easy like that. Punk will either bring someone in from the beginning, or Suicide will be waiting somewhere for a sneak attack. He might have somebody come running in during the match to make a quick save and distract us. He might not try to win and just disqualify himself by attacking and injuring us. I know that he won’t go down without a fight, I am 100% sure. But one thing is for a fact. Phil will underestimate us, thinking that we are simply your goon squad, used as security. So if we work smart, the match can be a quick one, because we, just like him, will have a strategy.
And that is what terrifies me the most. Because you can predict outcomes to your match. There are too many unknowns in my match. Sure, I know what to expect from Morgan. I faced her recently and honestly doubt that much has changed. But what about Laura? She is a person who has no limits and will go to great limits to be victorious. Remember, she even dismantled her former tag team partner at the Reinas tournament. That girl has no fear, no stops and remorse. And then, to add to all of that, there will be more girls in the match, who will be decided in matches earlier in the evening. But when you think that this match is already a brainbuster, here comes the news that Amanda Cortez wants no part in the match and we possibly get another mystery opponent. So I pretty much have to be prepared for everything. For every possible scenario in wrestling. The ones that can exist and don't even seem realistic enough.
As Wes was about to say something, Blake just leaned back a bit as she looked at him. You could see that she was full of doubts, worries and nerves. But the fire... Oh, it was here. Those demons were there, just waiting for the opportunity to come to the surface.
I will win… Believe me, I will do beyond anything to win. I will kill in that ring if that means that after that main event I will be standing with the Vixen’s title in my hands. Everybody thinks that I am just disrespectful, that I am rude, that I only boast about my background. I am so tired of trying to prove myself, of trying to make people acknowledge that I am the best, that my skills are not like anything they have seen before. I can promise you this much... I will lie, cheat, manipulate, fight through blood, sweat and tears, but in the end I will be victorious. I will be champion. They can't even imagine how far am I willing to go.
Blake stood up as she ran towards the ropes and executed a perfect Springboard Moonsault as the scene faded.
*2 days before "Final Encounter" (Televised)*
Being one of the biggest PPV's in GZWA, the company organized an entire weekend of wrestling. One of the events was a wrestling convention, with former and current athletes appearing for signings, meet and greets, panels and other fun activities. In one of the bigger halls, The Hellions had their own panel, where they met up with fans to discuss wrestling, MMA and their matches at the PPV.
It was quite a well lit room, with rows of chairs in front of a stage. The stage wasn't too high, making the panel feel a tad more personal and intimate. Sparta was the first one from the left, wearing a Hellions t-shirt with a leather jacket over it with Diablo right next to him, dressed in a black shirt and simple denim jeans. Wes was as always sporting one of his expensive suits, yet the jacket was off as he had a few top buttons undone on his white shirt. The last one sitting was Blake, wearing a black Hellions t-shirt, lighter denim vest with black sequin details and a pair of dark ripped denim jeans. Through the rips you could see that she was wearing fishnet stockings underneath.
All four were sitting on chairs, with glasses next to them, bottles of sparkling water and bottles of "Corona" beers, microphones either in hand or placed by the leg of the chair. The panel was already underway as someone from the crowd asked about any secret talents that the Hellions might possess. Diablo out of nowhere started to beatbox to the surprise of the crowd. Sparta couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as Wes tried to join in adding some lyrics to the rhythm.
Wes: It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes...
The crowd couldn't contain their laughter, while Blake joined in with a few "Yeah, yeah" for good measure. That entire time Sparta was looking at his phone as suddenly, the very familiar opening sequence of "What is Love" by Haddaway sounds off as loud as possible. Blake almost fell off her chair laughing, yet she managed to quickly start singing, with the crowd immediately joining her.
Blake: We are love!!! Baby, don't hurt me. Don't hurt me... No more!!!!
Diablo kept up with the beat, trying his best to still have a serious facial expression. But it all went to nothing as Sparta joined in and added his amazing vocals to the entire gig. Blake was trying to take a sip of her beer at that very moment as she almost spitted it all out. Diablo started dancing and moving his hips to the rhythm, with Wes laughing hysterically. The crowd cheered the goofy antics of the Hellions as their little rendition of the pop classic ended up in all four taking a bow with the people in attendance applauding and laughing. Finally, the bustle died down, with Blake taking a good sip of her beer. A guy stood up in one of the middle rows, sporting a “Best in the World” t-shirt as he was about to ask a question.
This is all fun and entertaining, but I have to address the elephant in the room… Since CM Punk’s injury never did once you address what happened, Blake. Not who did it to him, not how was he doing or when he will recover. And when he return on Primetime and issued a challenged, you didn’t say a single word and kept dodging questions about him.
Blake listened to the guy, with one arm resting on her knee as Sparta turned to look at her with a little smile on his face and then looked back at the crowd. Well, this was definitely a mood changer. Diablo shook his head as he pouted her lips, pretending to be insanely upset.
Diablo: Party pooper…
Blake: That is true, I did avoid the question about Punk’s return. And Punk in general. But there was a very specific reason things went down like they did. I didn’t speak about Lip… Well, because I knew what happened and I didn't see the necessity to address it.
The crowd at that very moment went dead silent. You could hear your own breathing, it was that quiet. But the atmosphere was slowly getting more tense as everybody anticipated, what Blake’s answer was going to be. Taking a sip of her beer, it seemed like she was enjoying the attention. Finally, she re-positioned herself on the chair and spoke out.
Blake: I knew him before I joined GZWA. You all know that. We met at training camps, since we for a short period of time were training with the same team in Chicago. And after I came here, it was lovely seeing a familiar face. Someone who would give advice, who would show me the ropes. Because the physical part of this business was pretty clear and didn’t raise any questions. But unlike anywhere else, here your charisma, your ability to tell a story sometimes is even more important than actually being good in the ring. And I knew that if I align myself with Punk, I will be working with the best storyteller in the business. After all, how long would have my “MMA fighter turned wrestler” shtick worked on its own?
Fans in attendance listened in complete silence as everybody was stunned by such honesty by the redhead fighter.
Blake: But that was just not enough. What we did together was something you have seen a million times before. Two people admire one another and form a tag team. Much yay, very wow. It was a generic, run of the mill storyline. I needed something more. I needed a compelling story, inner turmoil to propel my career to new heights. And this is where the “hit and run” story came into play.
People seemed stunned slightly at how calmly Blake was telling her story. Suddenly, Diablo spoke out, while the breathtaking vixen was taking a sip of her drink.
Diablo: From the beginning of her career in this company, Blake understood that if she wants to be the best, she has to have a clear vision and a plan. We said this a million times over and over, but it is the truth. The business we were in... It is very common to strategize, plan, have a clear idea of what do you want to achieve in the long run. You would think that everything that happened with Blake’s career is luck, coincidence, circumstances… But in reality…
Blake: In reality... Everything was planned. My debut match against the then champion Mariah, when she was issuing those open challenge matches for the title. It was in my plan to act humble and ask for a non-title match instead. It was all planned out in advance to jump out against the Machine and take a hit for Punk and the Straight Edge Society, in order to show my heroic nature and gain “good girl” credits from the crowd, it was a plan to bring in Johnny Gargano as a complete babyface and give myself the chance to show stark contrast with my gradually more and more “wicked” ways. I needed the crowd to react to me. To remember my name, my face. It was pre-planned to show more and more of my relationship with Wes. To show my inner turmoil of Punk not being here and being injured. But for all this to happen I needed a catalyst. And Punk’s injury was perfect for that. So we turned the plan into reality.
The crowd gasped in horror as people just looked at the stage. Wes took the mic from the ground that was right by his chair as he finally decided to add the story.
Wes: Blake needed a compelling story, something to make her look vulnerable, something that would make good television and her lover/teammate getting attacked before the match was just that. Her story of worry, insanity, inner demons and turning to the darkside was exactly what she needed to reach the next level of her career. And me, Sparta and Diablo, her friends and former colleagues were there from the very first match to help her become who she is today. Even if it was from behind the scenes at first. So, to put it in words that all of you would understand... We did it all for good television and ratings.
Blake: I don’t care about relationships here. I don’t care about alliances and teams with other wrestlers. My only goal, when I decided to transition to wrestling, was to be the best. It was always my goal, no matter what I did. I knew that nobody will ever stand in my way of achieving championship success and being the face of the company. And if they decided to challenge me, I have no problem in removing them from the picture. And at Final Encounter, where the stakes are as high as ever, all stops are off and I will not only do everything. I will take it to the very limit to become champion. These girls can't even imagine how far I am willing to go to be champion. And this time, I will show no one mercy. Because not a single one of them deserves it.
The same guy who asked the question about Punk stood up again as he was ready to ask once more. At this point, the room was still in shock from Blake's revelation.
But how will you guys feel if Punk will win against the three of you at Final Encounter?
Wes grinned as he looked at the guy.
Wes: You’re a witty fucker, aren’t you?
Even though the atmosphere was getting tenser every moment, the crowd still giggled hearing Wes answer the guy. Sparta finally took the microphone as his low basso echoed through the hall.
Sparta: That is quite a “Captain Obvious” type of question. Of course we would feel awful. Very disappointed and would definitely beat ourselves about it. Because, obviously, you think that the match is easy. The three of us going against one. Seems to good to be true. Yet, in reality it is quite different than it seems. As much as I would love to say that “We will crush him”, Punk is not a one trick pony. That guy has a head on his shoulders and if he sets his mind to it, he can beat us without any hesitation. But, this is not me saying that we are going to lose. This is me acknowledging that the little punk is actually quite an opponent.
Wes: Sparta is being too kind. I can tell you this much. Punk can bring his imaginary friends, his comrades, sobriety society and AA counselors. He can bring whatever he can find, but after Final Encounter he will be leaving the arena on a stretcher. I know that he thinks we are Blake’s little goon squad, but this illusion will only lead to his own demise. We will finish the job that we started when we drove that car straight through him.
A sea of hands went into the air as everybody was trying to shout out their questions. Yet, they couldn't hear it anymore. It was complete silence as the room was getting crazier by the second. The focus was now on Blake's face as she looked off into the distance. With lightning flickering, from very bright to barely visible, focus stayed on Blake emotionless expression. The scene behind her morphed into a completely white background, her makeup dark and smokey now as a red liquid reminiscent of blood started pouring down on her from the ceiling. Her voice was heard in a form of a voiceover.
I will be champion…
The show quickly cut to Sparta, standing in front of the same background as blood started pouring down his head and face, dripping to his shoulder and down his chest. His voice was heard as he stared at the camera.
I will end his career…
Diablo looked down from the floor slowly and into the camera as it felt like he would burn a hole through the lense. Blood dripped down in slow motion as you could see it slowly dripping down his face, with Diablo not even blinking.
I will prove our worth…
Lastly, Wes stood in front of the very same background, looking at the camera as the same red bloody liquid poured down on him in a steady stream, covering his entire upper body.
I will create our legacy…
A shot by shot of all four of them once more showed, with all of them covered in blood, staring through the camera as the scene cut to black.
8 AM on a Saturday as the scene opens up in Orlando International Airport. With a carry-on suitcase in hand walks Sparta, headphones still hiding his ears as he heads towards the exit. His head nodded to the rhythm of a unfamiliar song, with him even mouthing some of the lyrics. Soon after follows Diablo, suitcase in hand and with a black backpack, while making his way through the airport, he didn't put down his phone for a single second as he talked with someone, trying to keep a calm tone, not wanting any attention on him.
How many times can I tell you, don't come... Please. I don't want you sitting there and watching the entire thing. No... No.
Just as he was about to catch up to Sparta, Blake and Wes walked through the airport, both with their luggage in hand, while Blake had a backpack resting comfortably on her shoulder and a pair of wireless headphones resting around her neck. As they reached the exit, Wes lifted her hand for a second and softly kissed it, right between the second and third knuckles. Blake turned to look at him, both flashing one another a lovely smile. A rental car was waiting for them outside to bring them to the hotel, so they could check-in, leave all their things and head to their first training session of the day. They had a lot to do to prepare for the PPV.
Loud thuds could be heard in the background of a seemingly empty gym as Diablo was working his way through a punching back, practicing both punches and kicks. Only in dark shorts, barefooted and with gloves, his gaze was focused solely at the punching bag. A trainer was standing right besides him, pointing out some mistakes, reminding him about combination possibilities. Sparta was a bit more to the left, with a medicine ball in his hands, doing the squats, his breathing calm and steady. In the center of the gym, Wes was jumping from one leg to the other, warming up and keeping his blood flow high as he looked at his sparring partner.
They just finished trading blows, as Wes still was breathing heavily, sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest moving up and down rapidly. A trainer and his assistant were standing right in between them as he was commenting on the combination Wes just performed. Usually, this man wasn't the one to listen to direction well. But this was something completely new to him, so the trainer had Wes undivided attention.
Okay, that is not bad, but don't forget, this is not a boxing match. Don't focus too much on trying to knock him out from the first punch. Your plan is to use your striking to daze him and bring him to the ground. So, lets try a left-left-right and then a kick to knock him down. He's on the ground? Find the best position and apply your preferred submission hold.
Wes nodded as he looked to see if his opponent was ready. Farthest away from all of them was Blake, her body working every single muscle as she was training with silk ropes. Not only did she enjoy this type of workout, because it was something different, but also, it was a good way for her to work on her flexibility, since she wanted to expand her moveset for her title match. Blake knew her strengths, but there was no denying that she needed to bring something new, something she didn't do before. And her training on her flexibility and gymnastics let her have a few new tricks up her sleeve.
A good hour passed and Blake was standing in the ring, now in her ring gear, boots and her hands taped. Her hair was neatly braided in a tight fishtail braid, so that her long locks wouldn't get in the way. Running towards the ropes, she jumped on the middle one, her one hand grabbing the top as she leaped into a moonsault, yet didn't manage to land right, hitting the ground hard and somewhat sideways, since her leg got somewhat caught in the rope. Wes slowly stood up from the bench and stepped in the ring, looking down at Blake, who was laying on her back, breathing heavily. He extended his hand to her as the redhead slowly sat down.
Worried?
"Worried" is not really the right word. I'm more... Nervous. Excited, but really, really nervous. This is my chance. This is my chance to take my rightful place as the best. To become the leader, the face of the division. To finally be champion. The stakes are the highest they have ever been. And I am not facing one person. I'm facing 5 more girls. Even though I've had a match like that before, it still makes me feel.... Uneasy. And I hate that feeling.
But you had championship matches before... Never forget that you were undefeated. You were the one everybody wanted to be and beat.
Yeah, but that was then... Now, it is a completely different ball game. I am not undefeated, I am not a champion. I am so close... So, so close. But at the very same time... So fucking far away. I can't help, but start doubting myself.
Blake slowly stood up as she looked at Wes. He slowly stepped out and she simply started going at it over and over. Moonsault after moonsault, from the ropes, from the turnbuckle. After she landed crooked once more, right after that thud you could hear her voice out loud.
Fuck! Fucking fuck!!
Rubbing her shoulder, she breathed rapidly as it was hard for her to keep her focus. Wes looked through the ropes as he finally stepped in. Blake was sitting on the mat, just fuming over her own self. He kneeled right next to her and softly kissed her on the forehead. You could see the worry in his eyes. He had a match himself, a lot of thoughts running through his head, but no matter what, her well being, her safety, her success was always his main concern. His only care. Wes was ambitious and very arrogant. He didn't care for many. Well, he didn't care about anyone except for himself. But this girl right there was the only exception.
Blake... You are overthinking this. This is all in your head. Do you understand? You are Mercy. The one who takes her opponents quickly, so that they wouldn't suffer. You are such a versatile athlete. You have everything going for you. A winning streak, our support, all you need is to let it go. Take a step back, a good deep breath and just do what we all know you do best. Or do I need to piss off your ass to light that fire underneath you, so you would forget all those unnecessary doubts and just do everything in your power to win?
Blake wrapped her arms around him as she pulled herself in close to his body. He had his own match to worry about, yet he was playing her therapist. And Blake started feeling guilty and a tad embarrassed that the pressure brought her seek comfort and a confidence boost.
Are you not worried at all for your match?
A tad. Sure. But our match is a lot more predictable. The match is 3 against 1. But we all know, that it would be just too easy like that. Punk will either bring someone in from the beginning, or Suicide will be waiting somewhere for a sneak attack. He might have somebody come running in during the match to make a quick save and distract us. He might not try to win and just disqualify himself by attacking and injuring us. I know that he won’t go down without a fight, I am 100% sure. But one thing is for a fact. Phil will underestimate us, thinking that we are simply your goon squad, used as security. So if we work smart, the match can be a quick one, because we, just like him, will have a strategy.
And that is what terrifies me the most. Because you can predict outcomes to your match. There are too many unknowns in my match. Sure, I know what to expect from Morgan. I faced her recently and honestly doubt that much has changed. But what about Laura? She is a person who has no limits and will go to great limits to be victorious. Remember, she even dismantled her former tag team partner at the Reinas tournament. That girl has no fear, no stops and remorse. And then, to add to all of that, there will be more girls in the match, who will be decided in matches earlier in the evening. But when you think that this match is already a brainbuster, here comes the news that Amanda Cortez wants no part in the match and we possibly get another mystery opponent. So I pretty much have to be prepared for everything. For every possible scenario in wrestling. The ones that can exist and don't even seem realistic enough.
As Wes was about to say something, Blake just leaned back a bit as she looked at him. You could see that she was full of doubts, worries and nerves. But the fire... Oh, it was here. Those demons were there, just waiting for the opportunity to come to the surface.
I will win… Believe me, I will do beyond anything to win. I will kill in that ring if that means that after that main event I will be standing with the Vixen’s title in my hands. Everybody thinks that I am just disrespectful, that I am rude, that I only boast about my background. I am so tired of trying to prove myself, of trying to make people acknowledge that I am the best, that my skills are not like anything they have seen before. I can promise you this much... I will lie, cheat, manipulate, fight through blood, sweat and tears, but in the end I will be victorious. I will be champion. They can't even imagine how far am I willing to go.
Blake stood up as she ran towards the ropes and executed a perfect Springboard Moonsault as the scene faded.
*2 days before "Final Encounter" (Televised)*
Being one of the biggest PPV's in GZWA, the company organized an entire weekend of wrestling. One of the events was a wrestling convention, with former and current athletes appearing for signings, meet and greets, panels and other fun activities. In one of the bigger halls, The Hellions had their own panel, where they met up with fans to discuss wrestling, MMA and their matches at the PPV.
It was quite a well lit room, with rows of chairs in front of a stage. The stage wasn't too high, making the panel feel a tad more personal and intimate. Sparta was the first one from the left, wearing a Hellions t-shirt with a leather jacket over it with Diablo right next to him, dressed in a black shirt and simple denim jeans. Wes was as always sporting one of his expensive suits, yet the jacket was off as he had a few top buttons undone on his white shirt. The last one sitting was Blake, wearing a black Hellions t-shirt, lighter denim vest with black sequin details and a pair of dark ripped denim jeans. Through the rips you could see that she was wearing fishnet stockings underneath.
All four were sitting on chairs, with glasses next to them, bottles of sparkling water and bottles of "Corona" beers, microphones either in hand or placed by the leg of the chair. The panel was already underway as someone from the crowd asked about any secret talents that the Hellions might possess. Diablo out of nowhere started to beatbox to the surprise of the crowd. Sparta couldn’t help but smile, shaking his head as Wes tried to join in adding some lyrics to the rhythm.
Wes: It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes...
The crowd couldn't contain their laughter, while Blake joined in with a few "Yeah, yeah" for good measure. That entire time Sparta was looking at his phone as suddenly, the very familiar opening sequence of "What is Love" by Haddaway sounds off as loud as possible. Blake almost fell off her chair laughing, yet she managed to quickly start singing, with the crowd immediately joining her.
Blake: We are love!!! Baby, don't hurt me. Don't hurt me... No more!!!!
Diablo kept up with the beat, trying his best to still have a serious facial expression. But it all went to nothing as Sparta joined in and added his amazing vocals to the entire gig. Blake was trying to take a sip of her beer at that very moment as she almost spitted it all out. Diablo started dancing and moving his hips to the rhythm, with Wes laughing hysterically. The crowd cheered the goofy antics of the Hellions as their little rendition of the pop classic ended up in all four taking a bow with the people in attendance applauding and laughing. Finally, the bustle died down, with Blake taking a good sip of her beer. A guy stood up in one of the middle rows, sporting a “Best in the World” t-shirt as he was about to ask a question.
This is all fun and entertaining, but I have to address the elephant in the room… Since CM Punk’s injury never did once you address what happened, Blake. Not who did it to him, not how was he doing or when he will recover. And when he return on Primetime and issued a challenged, you didn’t say a single word and kept dodging questions about him.
Blake listened to the guy, with one arm resting on her knee as Sparta turned to look at her with a little smile on his face and then looked back at the crowd. Well, this was definitely a mood changer. Diablo shook his head as he pouted her lips, pretending to be insanely upset.
Diablo: Party pooper…
Blake: That is true, I did avoid the question about Punk’s return. And Punk in general. But there was a very specific reason things went down like they did. I didn’t speak about Lip… Well, because I knew what happened and I didn't see the necessity to address it.
The crowd at that very moment went dead silent. You could hear your own breathing, it was that quiet. But the atmosphere was slowly getting more tense as everybody anticipated, what Blake’s answer was going to be. Taking a sip of her beer, it seemed like she was enjoying the attention. Finally, she re-positioned herself on the chair and spoke out.
Blake: I knew him before I joined GZWA. You all know that. We met at training camps, since we for a short period of time were training with the same team in Chicago. And after I came here, it was lovely seeing a familiar face. Someone who would give advice, who would show me the ropes. Because the physical part of this business was pretty clear and didn’t raise any questions. But unlike anywhere else, here your charisma, your ability to tell a story sometimes is even more important than actually being good in the ring. And I knew that if I align myself with Punk, I will be working with the best storyteller in the business. After all, how long would have my “MMA fighter turned wrestler” shtick worked on its own?
Fans in attendance listened in complete silence as everybody was stunned by such honesty by the redhead fighter.
Blake: But that was just not enough. What we did together was something you have seen a million times before. Two people admire one another and form a tag team. Much yay, very wow. It was a generic, run of the mill storyline. I needed something more. I needed a compelling story, inner turmoil to propel my career to new heights. And this is where the “hit and run” story came into play.
People seemed stunned slightly at how calmly Blake was telling her story. Suddenly, Diablo spoke out, while the breathtaking vixen was taking a sip of her drink.
Diablo: From the beginning of her career in this company, Blake understood that if she wants to be the best, she has to have a clear vision and a plan. We said this a million times over and over, but it is the truth. The business we were in... It is very common to strategize, plan, have a clear idea of what do you want to achieve in the long run. You would think that everything that happened with Blake’s career is luck, coincidence, circumstances… But in reality…
Blake: In reality... Everything was planned. My debut match against the then champion Mariah, when she was issuing those open challenge matches for the title. It was in my plan to act humble and ask for a non-title match instead. It was all planned out in advance to jump out against the Machine and take a hit for Punk and the Straight Edge Society, in order to show my heroic nature and gain “good girl” credits from the crowd, it was a plan to bring in Johnny Gargano as a complete babyface and give myself the chance to show stark contrast with my gradually more and more “wicked” ways. I needed the crowd to react to me. To remember my name, my face. It was pre-planned to show more and more of my relationship with Wes. To show my inner turmoil of Punk not being here and being injured. But for all this to happen I needed a catalyst. And Punk’s injury was perfect for that. So we turned the plan into reality.
The crowd gasped in horror as people just looked at the stage. Wes took the mic from the ground that was right by his chair as he finally decided to add the story.
Wes: Blake needed a compelling story, something to make her look vulnerable, something that would make good television and her lover/teammate getting attacked before the match was just that. Her story of worry, insanity, inner demons and turning to the darkside was exactly what she needed to reach the next level of her career. And me, Sparta and Diablo, her friends and former colleagues were there from the very first match to help her become who she is today. Even if it was from behind the scenes at first. So, to put it in words that all of you would understand... We did it all for good television and ratings.
Blake: I don’t care about relationships here. I don’t care about alliances and teams with other wrestlers. My only goal, when I decided to transition to wrestling, was to be the best. It was always my goal, no matter what I did. I knew that nobody will ever stand in my way of achieving championship success and being the face of the company. And if they decided to challenge me, I have no problem in removing them from the picture. And at Final Encounter, where the stakes are as high as ever, all stops are off and I will not only do everything. I will take it to the very limit to become champion. These girls can't even imagine how far I am willing to go to be champion. And this time, I will show no one mercy. Because not a single one of them deserves it.
The same guy who asked the question about Punk stood up again as he was ready to ask once more. At this point, the room was still in shock from Blake's revelation.
But how will you guys feel if Punk will win against the three of you at Final Encounter?
Wes grinned as he looked at the guy.
Wes: You’re a witty fucker, aren’t you?
Even though the atmosphere was getting tenser every moment, the crowd still giggled hearing Wes answer the guy. Sparta finally took the microphone as his low basso echoed through the hall.
Sparta: That is quite a “Captain Obvious” type of question. Of course we would feel awful. Very disappointed and would definitely beat ourselves about it. Because, obviously, you think that the match is easy. The three of us going against one. Seems to good to be true. Yet, in reality it is quite different than it seems. As much as I would love to say that “We will crush him”, Punk is not a one trick pony. That guy has a head on his shoulders and if he sets his mind to it, he can beat us without any hesitation. But, this is not me saying that we are going to lose. This is me acknowledging that the little punk is actually quite an opponent.
Wes: Sparta is being too kind. I can tell you this much. Punk can bring his imaginary friends, his comrades, sobriety society and AA counselors. He can bring whatever he can find, but after Final Encounter he will be leaving the arena on a stretcher. I know that he thinks we are Blake’s little goon squad, but this illusion will only lead to his own demise. We will finish the job that we started when we drove that car straight through him.
A sea of hands went into the air as everybody was trying to shout out their questions. Yet, they couldn't hear it anymore. It was complete silence as the room was getting crazier by the second. The focus was now on Blake's face as she looked off into the distance. With lightning flickering, from very bright to barely visible, focus stayed on Blake emotionless expression. The scene behind her morphed into a completely white background, her makeup dark and smokey now as a red liquid reminiscent of blood started pouring down on her from the ceiling. Her voice was heard in a form of a voiceover.
I will be champion…
The show quickly cut to Sparta, standing in front of the same background as blood started pouring down his head and face, dripping to his shoulder and down his chest. His voice was heard as he stared at the camera.
I will end his career…
Diablo looked down from the floor slowly and into the camera as it felt like he would burn a hole through the lense. Blood dripped down in slow motion as you could see it slowly dripping down his face, with Diablo not even blinking.
I will prove our worth…
Lastly, Wes stood in front of the very same background, looking at the camera as the same red bloody liquid poured down on him in a steady stream, covering his entire upper body.
I will create our legacy…
A shot by shot of all four of them once more showed, with all of them covered in blood, staring through the camera as the scene cut to black.
