Post by Misha LeCavalier on Jan 31, 2017 21:15:56 GMT -5
Montreal, Québec, Canada
Early 1984
Ethan, Martin, and Norman LeCavalier—the three princes to the LeCavalier Kingdom.
It was a odd rarity to have all three of them together in one spot. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to spend two to three months in Europe without returning home. He was widely liked by the promoters out there, therefore, he found himself with a constant influx of work when he ventured out. His younger brother Martin was hardly any better. He’d been wrestling in Mexico so long that he’d acquired a second house down there. He’d sometimes find his way back home for important holidays and such.
And Norman?
He was no stranger to extended travel either. Norman had been stiff and no nonsense all of his life, and those qualities transferred to the ring as well. Promoters ate that up and constantly bombarded him with offers. Even though he probably should have been, he wasn’t very selective on where he worked. If there was an opponent and a paycheck, he’d be there. Consequently, he racked up a lot of mileage on his pick-up migrating from providence to providence.
In short, the three princes were often too infatuated with their conquests to find the time to meet. However, that wasn’t the case this evening…
It was wrestling that had brought them together, ironically enough. A local Montreal promoter was hosting a memorial show for one of his ex-business partners. The LeCavaliers had been contacted for some dream six-man tag match. Ethan, Martin, and Norman all knew the promoter fairly well; he was a good dude, so they agreed to do the show.
It had been a lengthy journey for all the brothers, therefore, it was decided that they’d meet for lunch to catch up and recharge. Taking the lead, Norman elected that they meet at Golden Corral.
“My word,” Ethan said as he stepped through the doors. “It smells amazing in here! Chicken, pizza, mashed potatoes.” He let out a small sigh. “How glorious.”
“What’s the matter, the new wife not feeding you?” Martin jokingly remarked as he tapped Ethan on the shoulder.
“Hey!” Ethan exclaimed. “Neva is a wonderful wife, and cook.” He nodded his head in affirmation. “Regretfully though, it’s been ages since I’ve had a nice, home cooked meal.” The three quickly paid for their buffet meals. “I love Europe with all of my heart. However, the food there...not so much. You’ll mess up your stomach if you gallivant too much. So, my food choices there are sparse.”
“That’s what I’ve always been told,” Norman replied. “That’s why I chose this place. The food is, decent, at best. But, you’ll find a little of everything in the food lines.”
Ethan smiled. “Hey, you will not see me complaining.”
Their brotherly banter came to a halt as they chose a table, grabbed some plates, and went about foraging. Norman’s plate was conservative: a portion of meatloaf, corn, and green beans. Martin loaded up on baked chicken and a large mixed salad. Lastly, Ethan returned to the table with three plates piled full of baked chicken, mac and cheese, tater tots, pizza, burgers, and fried shrimp.
Norman gave him a massive side-eye as he scooped up some green beans. “That’s far too much food, and you know it.” He shook his head. “Martin and I don’t need you being sluggish out there, or getting sick.”
“Nonsense.” Ethan waved him off. “We’ve got six hours before we’ve got to be at the venue, and then another hour or so before we wrestle. This food will be gone long before then, trust me.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a tapeworm or something,” Martin said with a laugh.
“Har har, Richard Pryor,” Ethan replied with a grunt. “You two are distracting me from this marvelous meal,” he said as he grabbed a slice of pizza. “Tell me about what’s been going on with you all.”
“Shit, not much going on with me,” Martin said as he picked at his salad. “You know, just being a wrestling-ass-wrestler and all that. Although, me and the wife did just build a small orphanage down in Tijuana. The number of kids in need down there is wild; just wanted to do something to help out, you know?”
“That’s a noble cause,” Norman remarked. “Expensive?”
“Actually, it’s not too bad,” Martin said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Canadian and U.S. money is like gold there; so, that’s what I’ve been using.”
“I see,” said Norman. “How is the adoption going?”
“It’s going well. We passed the house inspection and all the hard shit. Honestly, at this point, we’re just waiting for all the paperwork to process and make its way through the system.”
“Aye, that’s the most taxing part I’ve been told,” Ethan said in between bites.
“Yeah, it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. But hey, I get it. The government wants to make sure the kids are going to a good home. So, them being extensive is a good thing to me.”
“That’s true. Good things come to those who are patient, so all shall be well.” Norman replied. “Just think, you’ll have a daughter to adore, and a son to carry on the family name. It is a win-win scenario to me.”
“Yeah,” Martin said with a bit of reservation. “Anyway, what about you, Norman? What’s new with you? How’s the wife?”
“Emmaline is doing well...better than well.” He paused to take a quick bite. “I was waiting till we were all together, but we’ve actually got a bit of news?”
“Oh?” asked Ethan. “Well, do tell.”
“Emmaline and I are expecting.”
“That is wonderful news!” Ethan exclaimed.
“Yeah, it is,” Martin said. “How far along is she?”
“About four or five months.”
“Geez, that far,” Ethan remarked. “You know Norman, you could have simply called us on the phone. Not that this joyous occasion isn’t welcomed.”
“It’s special and sensitive information. So, like I said before, I wanted us all to be in person.”
“Fair enough,” Martin said as he moved the conversation along. “Have you found out the baby’s sex yet? It’s around that time to do so, yeah?”
Norman mildly waved him off. “There’s no need for any of that—it’s going to be a boy.”
“My, aren’t we confident,” Ethan said with a small chuckle. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with having a girl.”
“You are correct. However, that is not what I desire, nor what I anticipate.” Norman nodded his head. “This baby is a boy, I can feel it deep down.” A rare smirk formed on his lips. “I have a name already picked out for him. Emmaline and I will call him Ryan.
“He’ll be charismatic, courageous, and strong-willed. He will be the son that will inherit everything that I’ve wrestled and worked for. He shall lead the LeCavalier dynasty and take it to—”
“Keep your pants on, Genghis Khan.” Martin shook his head a bit. “Regardless of what you two may be having, we’re happy for you.”
“Yes indeed,” Ethan said as he stood up to his feet. Martin and Norman looked over to see that all his plates were empty. Ethan smirked. “An special occasion such as this requires desert. I’ll fetch us all some ice cream, yes indeed.”
That line was spoken to me many years ago by my uncle. I shall remember that adage until I take my last breath on this earth.
Let me share a little nugget of wisdom and knowledge with you all. There are many things that distinguish the LeCavaliers from all the other seemingly prestigious families in this sport. We are a bold class of people; even with the weight of the world beaming down upon our shoulders, we still lift our eyes to the sky and hold our heads up high. We are highly confident; and, we are outspoken enough to stand up and tell you so. We are not meak.
And yet, what truly makes us LeCavaliers stand is our approach to the sport…
I was trained by my father and uncle Norman. I was but a teen at the time, but I remember the early mornings and late nights. I remember the tireless training sessions. I remember my bones and muscles crying out in pain at night. My father and uncle did not baby me—they made me suffer. In the end though, it made me tough; it made me a superior wrestler. They is how all of us LeCavaliers are trained.
However, grinding in the ring wasn’t the full extent of my studies. No—they also tried to chisel a proper mindset into my brain. That is what makes us different than all the other families. We take a holistic approach—adequate body, and adequate mind.
Professional wrestling is a volatile sport. Nine times out of ten, those who participate in it are only focused on fulfilling their own desires and wants. The fans are never satisfied; they will also turn on you at the drop of a hat, for no rhyme or reason. And the promotions? They beg and plead for your undying loyalty as they sneak to try to undercut your value and worth.
There’s a lot of bullshit that comes with being a wrestler. It’s almost enough to make a person commit murder.
Nonetheless, Meltdown Eighty-Four should serve as an indication that I have no quit. My knees didn’t quiver when that four-woman elimination match was announced; and when the bell rang, I showed no mercy. I did not roll over and die when our “Almighty Queen” deployed Thing One to beat me down after said match. And, but of course, there was no hesitation in my body when I returned fire on those two at the conclusion of the night.
In all honesty, I should probably be furious and pissed off by Ice and Kandi’s actions. In reality though, I find it humorous that our self-proclaimed First Lady of NAW was so intimidated by presence that she felt the need to put a hit out on me…
I feel my confidence rising moment by moment.
Before I switch gears and address my highly anticipated opponent for this upcoming show, let me say this. A date between you and I has been booked for St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, Ms. Washington. And I for one, cannot wait. More about that at a later time.
Jenny Smith…
I’d like to think that this match came about due to that little Bleacher Report interview I did prior to Meltdown Eighty-Four. In that interview, I expressed deep interest in facing you. And I can assure you, I wasn’t lying or fibbing for the cameras and the tape-recorders. No no no—in truth, I really am jazzed about our bout.
Jenny, based upon your time here in NAW thus far, here is what I know about you currently.
1. Just like me, you were not born here in the United States; you grew up in Amsterdam if I’m not mistaken. Although you’ve may have settled in quite nicely, in truth, you’re merely an alien in a strange and foreign land.
2. Your passion of professional wrestling and a craving of success brought you to this country; I can get down with that.
3. And while I don’t know you inner-most thoughts, I feel as if there is a distinct reason as to why you’ve ended up in NAW—you were hungry. You weren’t truly satisfied with where you were in your career. You wanted more. You desired more. NAW represented a grand opportunity—so you took it…
That sound about right?
Nevertheless, there’s one characteristic of yours that’s glaring; it’s stands out among all the other. That characteristic being, you haven’t let adversity kill your drive and passion...not yet, anyway. I’ve done my best to try and keep track of your adventures and such. You came to NAW in early 2013, correct? That was back when the original version of the Femme Fatale Championship was still alive and well. And the moment you stepped through the door, your gaze was fixed upon that belt. It was your goal, your yearning. You fought time and time again to try and achieve it, however, loss after loss held you down and set you back. And so, instead gazing down from atop the mountain, you had to lift your head, only to glare those who had snatched your rightful spot.
In truth, it would have been natural for you to get frustrated and discouraged. Had you packed it in and disappeared never to be heard from again, no one would have blamed you.
You did not, however.
True, you took some time away from the company; but then your returned, famished focused once more. You fought through your adversity. You fought through your past losses and failures. And after all that grinding, you finally obtained what you were so desperately seeking, a shot at the Femme Fatale Championship against Kandi Washington.
—And then you came up short once more.
Now Jenny, am I here to toss salt into your freshly crafted wound? Not intentionally or necessarily. Nonetheless, I am a fact seeker, and a truth speaker. And the truth is, you pissed away the largest match of your career two weeks ago at Meltdown Eighty-Four. We all know that.
...Jenny, I’m fascinated as to how you felt at the conclusion of that event. It was a boot and facebreaker combination that put you down for the count. Was the pain excruciating? Did it throb and pulsate through your entire head? Your entire body? Whatever the case, it must have been severe enough, given the fact that you were pinned off of it.
And while you were rolling to the floor holding your jaw, as the cameras were fading out, the last image everyone saw was me punking out the retaining champion. Jenny, the spotlight should have been on you. Instead, everyone was talking about if Misha LeCavalier would be the one to finally dethrone Kandi. I stole your spotlight—and that had to hurt.
Although, I’m sure it didn’t hurt as much as the walk to your locker. I’m sure your body cells were screaming out in pain. And your mind? It was probably playing that match back on an endless loop. And each time you almost won that match, each time you could have sealed the deal, the footage in your brain came to a pause. That endless loop continued as your got into your car, as you hopped onto your flight.
What happened when you were finally all by yourself, Jenny? Did you lash out in anger? Did you sob?
...I suppose the answer to that question doesn’t really matter now, does it? Because regardless of how you felt then, regardless of how you’re feeling now, we both know that you’ve got to put on a brave face and knuckle up for Meltdown Eighty-Five. You are getting ready to face one of the best women in professional wrestling today; you don’t want to look weak and helpless, yeah?
However, fear not Jenny. This isn’t just a big match for you, it’s a big match for the both of us. This bout will serve as a pressure cooker for the both of us as well. It will test our respective resolves. And that’s what’s going to make the match oh so very intriguing.
I’m undefeated in NAW at the present moment, not that it particularly matters. What does matter is that a loss against you would spell a grand loss of momentum heading in St Valentines' Day Massacre. And as you probably know far better than anyone else, a lack of momentum is deadly.
And of course, there’s you, ma’am. Your loss to Kandi was a heartbreaker, to say the least. The internet wrestling community is going to wonder if you’re finally starting to crack. NAW fans are going to wonder how many times you can keep gluing the pieces back together. And everyone wants to know if you’ve got the wherewithal to stand up and fight once more.
If it makes you feel better, I believe in you, Jenny. I believe that you’ve still got some heart left. And I believe that you’ve got another fight in you.
—It just blows that I’ve got to be the one to suck that heart and fight out of you. I wonder what will be left of you after Meltdown?
Jenny, two weeks ago I told the world that I was a dream breaker. That was not an attempt to be hard or intimidating, it was just the reality of situation. Furthermore, I did not prove myself to be a liar. Everyone going into that elimination match knew that there could be something special at the end of the rainbow. We all knew that it could have been our respective chances to rise up the ranks...
My hand was raised at the end of the night. After the fray was over, I stood tall above them all. And, I was able to watch and observe as the color left their faces, as emotions flooded over them.
I’ll be doing the same thing that the conclusion of our match.
...Jenny, I’ll be honest—you and I are not one in the same. You’ve got a lot of will, and you’re resilient. When adversity hits you, you’re able to put up a struggle and a fight. That’s cute. No no, that’s admirable, really. However, when adversity likes to rise up against me, I like to place that motherfucker beneath my boot…
That’s the distinguishing factor.
You’re going to fight with all your might at Meltdown, and I thank you for that. But in the end, it still won’t be enough. You’ll succumb to the same fate that everyone else has—a stern beating, a debilitating lariat, and a check in the L column.
You will fall by my hand, Jenny. However, I sincerely hope that you’ll able to recover from this impending defeat. Because when I’m the newly crowned Femme Fatale Champion, I’m going to challenge you once more. Hopefully, you won’t be a broken mess by then.
—Arrivederci.
Early 1984
Ethan, Martin, and Norman LeCavalier—the three princes to the LeCavalier Kingdom.
It was a odd rarity to have all three of them together in one spot. It wasn’t uncommon for Ethan to spend two to three months in Europe without returning home. He was widely liked by the promoters out there, therefore, he found himself with a constant influx of work when he ventured out. His younger brother Martin was hardly any better. He’d been wrestling in Mexico so long that he’d acquired a second house down there. He’d sometimes find his way back home for important holidays and such.
And Norman?
He was no stranger to extended travel either. Norman had been stiff and no nonsense all of his life, and those qualities transferred to the ring as well. Promoters ate that up and constantly bombarded him with offers. Even though he probably should have been, he wasn’t very selective on where he worked. If there was an opponent and a paycheck, he’d be there. Consequently, he racked up a lot of mileage on his pick-up migrating from providence to providence.
In short, the three princes were often too infatuated with their conquests to find the time to meet. However, that wasn’t the case this evening…
It was wrestling that had brought them together, ironically enough. A local Montreal promoter was hosting a memorial show for one of his ex-business partners. The LeCavaliers had been contacted for some dream six-man tag match. Ethan, Martin, and Norman all knew the promoter fairly well; he was a good dude, so they agreed to do the show.
It had been a lengthy journey for all the brothers, therefore, it was decided that they’d meet for lunch to catch up and recharge. Taking the lead, Norman elected that they meet at Golden Corral.
“My word,” Ethan said as he stepped through the doors. “It smells amazing in here! Chicken, pizza, mashed potatoes.” He let out a small sigh. “How glorious.”
“What’s the matter, the new wife not feeding you?” Martin jokingly remarked as he tapped Ethan on the shoulder.
“Hey!” Ethan exclaimed. “Neva is a wonderful wife, and cook.” He nodded his head in affirmation. “Regretfully though, it’s been ages since I’ve had a nice, home cooked meal.” The three quickly paid for their buffet meals. “I love Europe with all of my heart. However, the food there...not so much. You’ll mess up your stomach if you gallivant too much. So, my food choices there are sparse.”
“That’s what I’ve always been told,” Norman replied. “That’s why I chose this place. The food is, decent, at best. But, you’ll find a little of everything in the food lines.”
Ethan smiled. “Hey, you will not see me complaining.”
Their brotherly banter came to a halt as they chose a table, grabbed some plates, and went about foraging. Norman’s plate was conservative: a portion of meatloaf, corn, and green beans. Martin loaded up on baked chicken and a large mixed salad. Lastly, Ethan returned to the table with three plates piled full of baked chicken, mac and cheese, tater tots, pizza, burgers, and fried shrimp.
Norman gave him a massive side-eye as he scooped up some green beans. “That’s far too much food, and you know it.” He shook his head. “Martin and I don’t need you being sluggish out there, or getting sick.”
“Nonsense.” Ethan waved him off. “We’ve got six hours before we’ve got to be at the venue, and then another hour or so before we wrestle. This food will be gone long before then, trust me.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a tapeworm or something,” Martin said with a laugh.
“Har har, Richard Pryor,” Ethan replied with a grunt. “You two are distracting me from this marvelous meal,” he said as he grabbed a slice of pizza. “Tell me about what’s been going on with you all.”
“Shit, not much going on with me,” Martin said as he picked at his salad. “You know, just being a wrestling-ass-wrestler and all that. Although, me and the wife did just build a small orphanage down in Tijuana. The number of kids in need down there is wild; just wanted to do something to help out, you know?”
“That’s a noble cause,” Norman remarked. “Expensive?”
“Actually, it’s not too bad,” Martin said after wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Canadian and U.S. money is like gold there; so, that’s what I’ve been using.”
“I see,” said Norman. “How is the adoption going?”
“It’s going well. We passed the house inspection and all the hard shit. Honestly, at this point, we’re just waiting for all the paperwork to process and make its way through the system.”
“Aye, that’s the most taxing part I’ve been told,” Ethan said in between bites.
“Yeah, it’s a bit of a pain in the ass. But hey, I get it. The government wants to make sure the kids are going to a good home. So, them being extensive is a good thing to me.”
“That’s true. Good things come to those who are patient, so all shall be well.” Norman replied. “Just think, you’ll have a daughter to adore, and a son to carry on the family name. It is a win-win scenario to me.”
“Yeah,” Martin said with a bit of reservation. “Anyway, what about you, Norman? What’s new with you? How’s the wife?”
“Emmaline is doing well...better than well.” He paused to take a quick bite. “I was waiting till we were all together, but we’ve actually got a bit of news?”
“Oh?” asked Ethan. “Well, do tell.”
“Emmaline and I are expecting.”
“That is wonderful news!” Ethan exclaimed.
“Yeah, it is,” Martin said. “How far along is she?”
“About four or five months.”
“Geez, that far,” Ethan remarked. “You know Norman, you could have simply called us on the phone. Not that this joyous occasion isn’t welcomed.”
“It’s special and sensitive information. So, like I said before, I wanted us all to be in person.”
“Fair enough,” Martin said as he moved the conversation along. “Have you found out the baby’s sex yet? It’s around that time to do so, yeah?”
Norman mildly waved him off. “There’s no need for any of that—it’s going to be a boy.”
“My, aren’t we confident,” Ethan said with a small chuckle. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with having a girl.”
“You are correct. However, that is not what I desire, nor what I anticipate.” Norman nodded his head. “This baby is a boy, I can feel it deep down.” A rare smirk formed on his lips. “I have a name already picked out for him. Emmaline and I will call him Ryan.
“He’ll be charismatic, courageous, and strong-willed. He will be the son that will inherit everything that I’ve wrestled and worked for. He shall lead the LeCavalier dynasty and take it to—”
“Keep your pants on, Genghis Khan.” Martin shook his head a bit. “Regardless of what you two may be having, we’re happy for you.”
“Yes indeed,” Ethan said as he stood up to his feet. Martin and Norman looked over to see that all his plates were empty. Ethan smirked. “An special occasion such as this requires desert. I’ll fetch us all some ice cream, yes indeed.”
“We laugh in the face of adversity.”
Let me share a little nugget of wisdom and knowledge with you all. There are many things that distinguish the LeCavaliers from all the other seemingly prestigious families in this sport. We are a bold class of people; even with the weight of the world beaming down upon our shoulders, we still lift our eyes to the sky and hold our heads up high. We are highly confident; and, we are outspoken enough to stand up and tell you so. We are not meak.
And yet, what truly makes us LeCavaliers stand is our approach to the sport…
I was trained by my father and uncle Norman. I was but a teen at the time, but I remember the early mornings and late nights. I remember the tireless training sessions. I remember my bones and muscles crying out in pain at night. My father and uncle did not baby me—they made me suffer. In the end though, it made me tough; it made me a superior wrestler. They is how all of us LeCavaliers are trained.
However, grinding in the ring wasn’t the full extent of my studies. No—they also tried to chisel a proper mindset into my brain. That is what makes us different than all the other families. We take a holistic approach—adequate body, and adequate mind.
“We laugh in the face of adversity.”
Professional wrestling is a volatile sport. Nine times out of ten, those who participate in it are only focused on fulfilling their own desires and wants. The fans are never satisfied; they will also turn on you at the drop of a hat, for no rhyme or reason. And the promotions? They beg and plead for your undying loyalty as they sneak to try to undercut your value and worth.
There’s a lot of bullshit that comes with being a wrestler. It’s almost enough to make a person commit murder.
Nonetheless, Meltdown Eighty-Four should serve as an indication that I have no quit. My knees didn’t quiver when that four-woman elimination match was announced; and when the bell rang, I showed no mercy. I did not roll over and die when our “Almighty Queen” deployed Thing One to beat me down after said match. And, but of course, there was no hesitation in my body when I returned fire on those two at the conclusion of the night.
In all honesty, I should probably be furious and pissed off by Ice and Kandi’s actions. In reality though, I find it humorous that our self-proclaimed First Lady of NAW was so intimidated by presence that she felt the need to put a hit out on me…
I feel my confidence rising moment by moment.
Before I switch gears and address my highly anticipated opponent for this upcoming show, let me say this. A date between you and I has been booked for St. Valentine’s Day Massacre, Ms. Washington. And I for one, cannot wait. More about that at a later time.
“We laugh in the face of adversity.”
Jenny Smith…
I’d like to think that this match came about due to that little Bleacher Report interview I did prior to Meltdown Eighty-Four. In that interview, I expressed deep interest in facing you. And I can assure you, I wasn’t lying or fibbing for the cameras and the tape-recorders. No no no—in truth, I really am jazzed about our bout.
Jenny, based upon your time here in NAW thus far, here is what I know about you currently.
1. Just like me, you were not born here in the United States; you grew up in Amsterdam if I’m not mistaken. Although you’ve may have settled in quite nicely, in truth, you’re merely an alien in a strange and foreign land.
2. Your passion of professional wrestling and a craving of success brought you to this country; I can get down with that.
3. And while I don’t know you inner-most thoughts, I feel as if there is a distinct reason as to why you’ve ended up in NAW—you were hungry. You weren’t truly satisfied with where you were in your career. You wanted more. You desired more. NAW represented a grand opportunity—so you took it…
That sound about right?
Nevertheless, there’s one characteristic of yours that’s glaring; it’s stands out among all the other. That characteristic being, you haven’t let adversity kill your drive and passion...not yet, anyway. I’ve done my best to try and keep track of your adventures and such. You came to NAW in early 2013, correct? That was back when the original version of the Femme Fatale Championship was still alive and well. And the moment you stepped through the door, your gaze was fixed upon that belt. It was your goal, your yearning. You fought time and time again to try and achieve it, however, loss after loss held you down and set you back. And so, instead gazing down from atop the mountain, you had to lift your head, only to glare those who had snatched your rightful spot.
In truth, it would have been natural for you to get frustrated and discouraged. Had you packed it in and disappeared never to be heard from again, no one would have blamed you.
You did not, however.
True, you took some time away from the company; but then your returned, famished focused once more. You fought through your adversity. You fought through your past losses and failures. And after all that grinding, you finally obtained what you were so desperately seeking, a shot at the Femme Fatale Championship against Kandi Washington.
—And then you came up short once more.
Now Jenny, am I here to toss salt into your freshly crafted wound? Not intentionally or necessarily. Nonetheless, I am a fact seeker, and a truth speaker. And the truth is, you pissed away the largest match of your career two weeks ago at Meltdown Eighty-Four. We all know that.
...Jenny, I’m fascinated as to how you felt at the conclusion of that event. It was a boot and facebreaker combination that put you down for the count. Was the pain excruciating? Did it throb and pulsate through your entire head? Your entire body? Whatever the case, it must have been severe enough, given the fact that you were pinned off of it.
And while you were rolling to the floor holding your jaw, as the cameras were fading out, the last image everyone saw was me punking out the retaining champion. Jenny, the spotlight should have been on you. Instead, everyone was talking about if Misha LeCavalier would be the one to finally dethrone Kandi. I stole your spotlight—and that had to hurt.
Although, I’m sure it didn’t hurt as much as the walk to your locker. I’m sure your body cells were screaming out in pain. And your mind? It was probably playing that match back on an endless loop. And each time you almost won that match, each time you could have sealed the deal, the footage in your brain came to a pause. That endless loop continued as your got into your car, as you hopped onto your flight.
What happened when you were finally all by yourself, Jenny? Did you lash out in anger? Did you sob?
...I suppose the answer to that question doesn’t really matter now, does it? Because regardless of how you felt then, regardless of how you’re feeling now, we both know that you’ve got to put on a brave face and knuckle up for Meltdown Eighty-Five. You are getting ready to face one of the best women in professional wrestling today; you don’t want to look weak and helpless, yeah?
However, fear not Jenny. This isn’t just a big match for you, it’s a big match for the both of us. This bout will serve as a pressure cooker for the both of us as well. It will test our respective resolves. And that’s what’s going to make the match oh so very intriguing.
I’m undefeated in NAW at the present moment, not that it particularly matters. What does matter is that a loss against you would spell a grand loss of momentum heading in St Valentines' Day Massacre. And as you probably know far better than anyone else, a lack of momentum is deadly.
And of course, there’s you, ma’am. Your loss to Kandi was a heartbreaker, to say the least. The internet wrestling community is going to wonder if you’re finally starting to crack. NAW fans are going to wonder how many times you can keep gluing the pieces back together. And everyone wants to know if you’ve got the wherewithal to stand up and fight once more.
If it makes you feel better, I believe in you, Jenny. I believe that you’ve still got some heart left. And I believe that you’ve got another fight in you.
—It just blows that I’ve got to be the one to suck that heart and fight out of you. I wonder what will be left of you after Meltdown?
Jenny, two weeks ago I told the world that I was a dream breaker. That was not an attempt to be hard or intimidating, it was just the reality of situation. Furthermore, I did not prove myself to be a liar. Everyone going into that elimination match knew that there could be something special at the end of the rainbow. We all knew that it could have been our respective chances to rise up the ranks...
My hand was raised at the end of the night. After the fray was over, I stood tall above them all. And, I was able to watch and observe as the color left their faces, as emotions flooded over them.
I’ll be doing the same thing that the conclusion of our match.
...Jenny, I’ll be honest—you and I are not one in the same. You’ve got a lot of will, and you’re resilient. When adversity hits you, you’re able to put up a struggle and a fight. That’s cute. No no, that’s admirable, really. However, when adversity likes to rise up against me, I like to place that motherfucker beneath my boot…
That’s the distinguishing factor.
You’re going to fight with all your might at Meltdown, and I thank you for that. But in the end, it still won’t be enough. You’ll succumb to the same fate that everyone else has—a stern beating, a debilitating lariat, and a check in the L column.
You will fall by my hand, Jenny. However, I sincerely hope that you’ll able to recover from this impending defeat. Because when I’m the newly crowned Femme Fatale Champion, I’m going to challenge you once more. Hopefully, you won’t be a broken mess by then.
—Arrivederci.