Post Baptism

A desert truck stop somewhere in Nevada. The landscape is barren aside from the building that is the setting for our scene. A big rig pulls in and parks as we fade into the interior of the restaurant. It’s your standard, unremarkable truck stop, pleasant in how run-of-the-mill it is.

Contessa Floran, Oblivion’s Crush, -- whatever you want to call her -- is seated in a booth in the corner of the restaurant. She has never been to Nevada and so far she is not enjoying herself. A cup of cold coffee sits in front of her and she thinks about what to say to the waitress when she comes back for the sixth time asking if Contessa would like a refill. It’s clear that she has overstayed her welcome but this place has free WiFi and Contessa’s data plan is non-existent.

The Project: Honor wrestler sits in the booth with her back against the window. The sleeves of her shirt cover her hands (for the most part) as she gazes into the screen of her phone. The screen is cracked and she needs to be careful not to cut her thumbs as she scrolls. She is looking at various columns and Tweets -- that are all about her.

The match that she had with Red Riot at Project: Honor’s Bloodbath has inspired some chatter online. The bulk of the wrestling “pundits” have all had the same opinion -- who knew? Who knew that Contessa Floran was actually capable of such brutality. Leading up to her match with Red Riot, just about everyone who voiced a thought on the match had the same prediction, a Red Riot victory.

But that isn’t what happened.

Contessa saw an advantage when Red took a bad bump on her neck and she exploited it. Rather than use her chosen weapon Smashy, she opted to make a statement in the city known for blood, by using barbed wire to make Red Riot quit. She wasn’t pinned. She was forced to quit. If this was the girl scouts of wrestling, Contessa just earned her Blood Badge.

The Girl With The Death wish continued to scroll on her phone as the waitress eyeballed her. Contessa did her best to avoid making eye contact and when she went to click the link on a different article she was interrupted. It was a FaceTime call from her trainer in Visby, Steven Heathen.

She declined.

Sitting up in the booth, Contessa readied herself for what would come next. It was like clockwork, Heathen knew that she hated video calls and whenever he attempted one she would decline. But every time she did, a few seconds later…

..her phone rang. Just a voice call this time.

Contessa sighed and answered the call. She didn’t need to look at the caller ID.

“Hi Cookie,” Heathen said. His raspy voice was more cheerful than normal. She knew that he was clearly happy that she won but she almost gagged thinking about how he was about to subtly take credit for it.

“Hi.” she said.

“You wanna talk about it?” Heathen asked.

“About what?” she replied. Heathen knew her well enough to know that although her appearance and demeanor would say otherwise, the violent display that she performed at Bloodbath was new territory for her and she would be feeling some kind of way about it.

“About how you’re an absolute monster now?” Heathen chortled. “That was some hardcore shit Cookie. We had the fights on in the gym. Hell, I was surprised that you went that far. You choked her out with a coil of barbed wire! Where in the fuck did you learn that?”

Contessa resented the implication that she wasn’t creative.

“I have been watching a lot of Pixar movies recently.” she said defiantly.

“Ha! I don’t think you learned that shit from Buzz Lightyear. You sure as hell didn’t learn it from me! What are the big leagues doing to ya Cookie? I’ve seen some SHIT in my day but you could have cut Red Riot’s jugular. You consider that when you wrapped that barbed wire ‘round her throat?” Heathen asked.

Contessa had considered the possibility that she could have caused serious injury to Red in that moment. But in that instance she didn’t care, she had tunnel vision, she just wanted to win.

“She lived.” Contessa said.

She wasn’t sure if declining his FaceTime and being forced to picture the stupid look on his face was the better option. She could practically see his face right now.  He was nodding and smiling. The possibility that she could have killed Red Riot didn’t bother her as much as Heathen’s smug inferences.

“What do you want Steve?” she asked.

Heathen scoffed. “I’m callin’ to congratulate you! You’ve been dodging my calls for weeks! You showed the world what you can do at Bloodbath. You are on a different level now. I’m happy for ya.”

Notice that he didn’t say that he was proud of her. He wants something and Contessa sighs, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Heathen wasn’t great at small talk so it was bound to come soon.

“I also wanted to ask ye something.” He said.

There it is.

Contessa didn’t respond, she knew he was about to start the pitch no matter what she said so she gave him a wide berth and let him go for it.

“Things have been slow at the school. Visby ain’t really a destination for people coming to learn how to wrestle. I was thinkin’ maybe you could help us with a little commercial. Y’know, the Barbed Wire Baker Contessa Floran trained at our school. Could really help us out.” He said.

She had love for Heathen. There was no doubt about that. But the “Barbed Wire Baker”? Who was calling her that? She would be happy to endorse his school, that was the least that she could do. However, what she learned there wasn’t “hardcore” wrestling. She isn’t a “deathmatch” wrestler. She did what she needed to do to defeat Red Riot -- but that’s not who she is.

“Can I think about it?”

Heathen scoffed. He knew her. He should have expected this type of response. Contessa is a calculated person, she is the furthest thing from impulsive -- in most cases. There was a silence on the line, Heathen wouldn’t speak until she did.

“Let me get back to you,” she said “I’ve got this tag match coming up and you know how I am with trusting people. Let me get through this and I’ll call you.”

Silence.

“I promise. I’ll call you back next week.” she said. She hated that she had to reassure him, that she even felt obligation towards him.

“That’ll be fine Cookie. You sleep on it a while. In regards to that tag match…” he said “...watch your six. Like ya said, you don’t have a great track record trusting people. Good luck.”

Their phone calls rarely ended in a “goodbye” or anything of the sort. Today was no different. The line went dead and the waitress approached her again, with the coffee pot. Contessa held up her hand, declining the offer. Contessa pulled out her billfold and put down a fifty. She gathered her things and left the diner.

I’m a little bit shocked by my own malevolence. I had respect for Red Riot, I still have respect for her. But I did what I had to do in order to come away from our contest as the victor. I said that I would use my preferred weapon Smashy to do away with her but that isn’t what happened. Because that was my plan. I didn’t want to let Red know how I was going to beat her so I proposed a… red herring of sorts. Choking her out with barbed wire has caused a great many people to chastise me but I did what I needed to do to win.

I have no regrets.

And what do I get for my victory? I have been placed into a tag team contest with a partner that, at the time that this booking was announced, I barely knew anything about. I have nothing against Elena DeDraca. How could I? What I do take issue with is that we were teamed together because we share a few qualities. That putting use together as a team “looks good”. Absurd. If I weren’t as intelligent as I am then I would almost be offended.

I have taken my time to learn a little bit about Ms. DeDraca since this match was announced. To be perfectly honest, I am pleased as punch to be teaming with her. She and I are of a similar mind on things -- most of all being that we are winners. We are allergic to losing and we will both take every precaution necessary to ensure that our hands are raised at the end of a contest.  

Jay Jones. I feel bad for you my friend. You have been doing this longer than I have and what I have learned in a few short weeks took you years to come to terms with. You entered this industry as a doe eyed, happy-go-lucky sort of person. To me, that is absurd. Anyone that has a modicum of knowledge about professional wrestling is well aware that you need to have a propensity for stomach churning violence in order to succeed.

Better late than never.

It took you some time but you figured it out -- you need to be an animal. I was conscious of that fact but it really hit home with me at Bloodbath. Red Riot was the toughest opponent that I have faced in my short career and I knew that I would have to ascend to another level of brutality in order to beat her. So I did. In Philadelphia of all places. The altar of ultraviolence. It was a literal baptism in blood, for me. Maybe it was something about the bloodshed that Philly expected that stirred something in me but I ascended to a place where I did some heinous things in order to come away with the all important W.

Again, I have no regrets.

I will scream it from the rooftops. I did what I had to do to secure the W and I will continue to do so in every match that I compete in. This is not a game to me, every match is integral to my ultimate goal of facing the absolute best that this industry has to offer. I’m sorry to say, Jay, that you are not that. You call yourself the Highlight of Your Career...which I assume is meant to say that you will be the Highlight of My Career and that is just ridiculous. Facing and defeating you won’t even be the highlight of my evening.

Do not get me wrong Jay. I do not think I am “better” than you in the sense that I see myself as “above” you as a person. I just know that I want this more than you. I am willing to do whatever I have to do to ascend. I want to feel alive before I die, I want to reach the highest highs that I am humanely capable of. I am not underestimating you Jay -- I just think I have you figured out pretty good. You don’t want this victory like I do. Like both Elena and I do. And that’s one reason why you will lose.

One of many.

One of the other key reasons that will prevent you from succeeding is your partner. Josiah Andrew Scott is the home state favourite. I have no doubt that the fans in Nevada are going to lose their minds when he is introduced for our match. That is a boon to your campaign as a team. But it is far from enough. Josiah, I have no reason to dislike you. I actually have no tangible reason to think that I can beat you -- and yet I do. I think it’s because the vibe that I get from you is someone that is overcompensating. You have a great many nicknames that you go by and yet none of them have been earned.

The GOAT, really?

You consider yourself the greatest of all time Josiah? You must, because no one else has any call to give you that moniker. I understand that in this industry we need to embellish just a little, but there is a difference between enhancing the facts and outright lying. Having such a hackneyed “persona” is beneath you. And that is coming from someone who knows very little about you. I understand that you need to portray an aura of confidence but this is a bit much. Clearly you are overcompensating and it is going to cost you.

Dearly.

The two of you have had the misfortune of being placed against two competitors who hate nothing more than losing. I don’t know Elena that well but I feel like I know that much about her. We aren’t coming to Nevada to lose. We aren’t coming to Nevada to gamble. We are coming to Nevada to win. Consider us the house, boys. We won’t be beaten. You can try, but you will fail. I look forward to seeing how you try to keep the inevitable at bay.

May we have this dance?