Post by Carmen Rivera on Aug 5, 2012 3:00:41 GMT -4
R E C A P --
[/color][/size][/center][/font]ღ Poor Young Mannie. He’d tried so hard last week to make a name for himself using Carmen Rivera as a stepping stone, in her own hometown. That was a mistake he certainly paid for, in the form of a loss to Carmen Rivera via Carmen’s Cartwheel Bomb. Carmen couldn’t have said it better than commentary last week: ”She begins the era of the Queen!” However, the good times weren’t meant to last. Carmen made a visit to Overdrive, an unprecedented one, to Michael Harris in his place after his show of disrespect towards her the week before. Harris promised to “give Carmen what she deserved.” Our delusional beauty assumed that Michael Harris meant a marriage proposal. Harris certainly didn’t clear up our North American Champion’s false hopes, getting down on one knee ... long enough to hit her with the Brooklyn Knockout, spearing Carmen out of her designer shoes! Her possibly broken ribs came with support from surprising places on Twitter: Michael Callahan, for starters, and even Jair Hopkins. However, this wouldn’t be the first time Carmen competed with an injury, having competed with Whiplash a few weeks ago. She would be competing with a bad set of ribs on Meltdown in San Francisco, against Michael Lively (again), and Shane Borderland. Lively has been on a very bad slope of losses, and has yet to defeat Rivera. Borderland, on the other hand? He has just as much to prove as the Hall of Famer, and it seems more drive to actually accomplish his goals, holding his loss to Carmen in the golden ticket battle royal very close as a personal grudge. Carmen welcomed the challenge, after all, as of lately, she’s been steamrolling over each and every person who thought they deserved the right to call themselves ‘competition.’ She had some big shoes to fill if she wanted to be the best North American Champion that Meltdown had ever seen, not for her own benefit, but for that horrid show’s benefit. It was time to make good on her promises.
S C E N E O N E --
[/color][/size][/center][/font]ღ Sitting on a medical examiner’s table at Overdrive, Meltdown Megastar Carmen Rivera finds herself sucking on her teeth in pure pain as she feels her ribs being prodded at gently, the top of her strapless dress lowered to her petite, tattooed waist. She grasps onto the edges of the cold, metal cable, shaking her blonde tresses about in anger and disgust once the doctor pulls away from the gorgeous North American champion.
DOCTORJAMESMCCAULEY[/b] -- overdrive head trainer.[/color] "It doesn’t look or feel like anything’s broken. It was a nasty fall that you took, but I’m going to go off on a limb and say that the worst part of the Brooklyn Knockout you suffered tonight was the scare. There’s no harm done."
CARMENMARIARIVERA[/b] -- queen of north america.[/color] "No HARM done?! No harm done? Did you not see that waste of a perfectly good sperm and egg tackle me to the mat like a brute?! And for what?!"
DOCTORJAMESMCCAULEY[/b] -- overdrive head trainer.[/color] "Well, you did aggravate him, Carmen ..."
CARMENMARIARIVERA[/b] -- queen of north america.[/color] "Being alive irritated him! That’s what happens when you’re old and senile! It isn’t my fault that he needs a bigger pair of Depends."
DOCTORJAMESMCCAULEY[/b] -- overdrive head trainer.[/color] "Right ..."
ღ He shrugged, deciding not to push the issue. Given the loose cannon that Carmen had proven to be, it was for the best. Carmen scoffed aggressively as she lowered herself to the floor, truly milking her “injury” (or lackthereof) for everything that it was worth, tugging the top of her dress back into place over her strapless bra, making sure to smooth the wrinkles out before she fixed her blonde tresses and placed her tiara on the crown of her head once again. The trainer then extended a small pill bottle to Carmen with only two pills in it.
DOCTORJAMESMCCAULEY[/b] -- overdrive head trainer.[/color] "Take one of these tonight, and one in the morning if necessary for any pain. But after a good night’s sleep, you should be fine. I recommend rest."
CARMENMARIARIVERA[/b] -- queen of north america.[/color] "So you’re saying I have to compete on Meltdown, yet again. Are you SURE there’s nothing wrong with me?"
DOCTORJAMESMCCAULEY[/b] -- overdrive head trainer.[/color] "I’m saying that exactly. There’s nothing wrong with you."
ღ “Physically, anyway.” He mumbled under his breath, before continuing to a distraught Carmen.
DOCTORJAMESMCCAULEY[/b] -- overdrive head trainer.[/color] "Besides. Doctor’s notes don’t really fly too well in this profession. You ought’a know that well enough by now, Carmen."
ღ She pouted a little bit, in disgust with the idea of not getting her way. Stomping her feet a little bit, she was careful to only do this a few times, wary of her ribs. The doctor steps back upon being the target of the dirtiest look Carmen can muster, before she decides to spare him, our residential looneybird storming out of his office and slamming the door closed on the way out.
ღ Carmen sneered, mumbling and cursing under her breath. How could he not give her her way? How could he send her to fight Lively, who had yet to beat her but had gotten very close to doing so? He’d seemed to get closer and closer, time and time again. Sure, he was an ass, but he was a Hall of Famer. Why? Eh, Carmen couldn’t tell that much, but clearly at one point in time, he was talented enough to defeat an ‘up and comer.’ Then there was Shane Borderland, the other San Diego native in the APW. Carmen didn’t know him from an everyday, average Joe Schmo on the street, but he seemed to be determined to take our gorgeous heroine out of the business. Clearly, Carmen wasn’t going to get the get out of jail free card that she wanted and turn this negative that Michael Harris was forcing her to endure into a positive. It was time for a new game plan.[/size][/font]
B L O G E N T R Y -- HERE WE GO, AGAIN!
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[/center][/font]ღ Hello Blogland and Basement Dwellers. Don’t rub your eyes, you are indeed seeing yours truly, the reigning Queen of North America, and Queen of Meltdown, Carmen Rivera, finally getting back to you guys after an absence of like, a jillion years. It’s been far too long. I won’t say get used to it. I just happen to have been a very bad girl lately. Turns out, it’s ‘disrespectful’ in management’s eyes to bedazzle your championship title. Who knew?
ღ Soo, for those of you who were wondering, judging by the flooding of Twitter and the surge of fanmail that I’ve received, I’m doing “well” in “Doctor” (pfft, he’s as much of a doctor as I am!) McCauley’s “expert” opinion. Personally? I don’t think I should be competing on Meltdown. I am not only nursing an injury to the ribs, but I had to wrestle with Whiplash a few weeks ago! If that’s not giving, I don’t know what is. But, when I signed to this god forsaken wasteland of a brand, I swore two things. Firstly? I would do everything it took to take control of the brand, which in this case, was winning the North American championship. And secondly, I would put the brand on the map. Why? Because I am a GOOD person. It’s that simple, despite what everyone wants to say, running their mouths week after week about me being anything less than giving. And while we’re on the subject of me being such a good person and being so giving, it’s what makes me think of my opponents: Shane Borderland and Michael Lively. Before you go to Google to try and figure out just who the hell Borderland is, let me spare you the trouble. It isn’t worth the effort.
ღ Shane Borderland’s biggest claim to fame is sharing my hometown with me. His biggest claim to fame is something I write off as a mere subtlety, something that gets San Diego a few hundred more tourists every year. When they go to San Diego, none of them go there thinking ‘like oh em gee! SHANE BORDERLAND lives here!’, I can guarantee you that that is NOT the case. Championships are what surges popularity, notoriety is. Shane doesn’t have that. He doesn’t have it, and he drives it home over the fact that he doesn’t, and he wants us to pity him. He wants us to say ‘Oh, well you don’t have any accolades or accomplishments under your belt, but you say you’re a terrific wrestler, so we’re going to have to agree with you! You’re awesome! Never mind proving yourself, you can do that later!’
ღ Nuuh. Doesn’t work that way.
ღ Backing up what you say is the key aspect to this business. You can’t proclaim you’re the greatest thing since Jamba Juice if you don’t prove it! You can’t say you’re cut from the championship cloth, if you don’t win a championship. I don’t even need to brag about my own accomplishments, like winning TWO matches in one night when I won my North American Championship, Shane Borderland does it for me! He looks back on that night with nothing but hatred and envy in his eyes. The way he sees it? What I accomplished on that night was on his to-do list. I stole the spot that somehow, in that warped, damaged little mind of his, he thinks he deserves. But yet, if he really deserved it, at least even half much of what he obviously feels like he did, he would have won that golden ticket. He would have cashed in that ticket, and he would’ve taken the championship from the ugly duckling, Evan Envi.
ღ But he couldn’t. ‘Cause he can’t. So leave it to me to have to pick up the slack. Despite all of these stupid boys writing me off for being a woman. But, I gotta’ give it to Borderland. At least he’s smart enough to attempt to get on my good side. With guys like Shadow, who I make a hobby out of dominating, he only compliments my breasts. At least Borderland sees me as more than a pair of admittedly amazing tits on a pair of admittedly amazing legs. He sees me as someone that can hold their own in the ring, considering the fact that he just can’t seem to get that win over me.
ღ Speaking of people who can’t get that win over me (or, anybody lately, for that matter…) How ya’ doin, Lively? Rotting away in the darkest pit of obscurity, I’m sure.
ღ You know, I don’t think there could be a story of folklore written about a bigger fall from grace than Lively’s story. He already has a miserable start to his story. He looks like a garden gnome, and he overrates himself. So he’s this fragile, hideous little gnome, who’s placed himself on a tremendously high pedestal. What do you think a fall from a pedestal so high up is going to do to a guy like Lively? It’s going to shatter him. It’s going to practically kill him!
ღ And me? I have the best seat in the house to watch him shatter, week after week. There’s nothing I love more than watching some pompous, arrogant ass be given their just desserts. The man is a Hall of Famer who can’t get a win lately, even if he opened up Steve Jobs’ checkbook and tried to buy one! How ironic is that?! I love every last minute of it, and I love knowing that I’m the source of every bit of his pain. This will be his third attempt at knocking me off of my pedestal, and he can’t do it. And frankly? It’s exactly what he deserves. He writes me off as nothing, a nobody, all for his own sexist purposes. It helps his ego, which has been shattered, just like his hopes of actually being someone that can be taken seriously in this business ever again.
ღ How many times do I need to be subjected to wrestling the same people? How many times do I need to hear the same shtick thrown at me? And more importantly, how many times do I need to prove the same people wrong before they just give up and stop trying? Bowing out of competition with me would be much more beneficial than actually attempting to wrestle with me, and embarrassing themselves, time and time again. Maybe it’s actually for the best for them that Doctor McCauley is an imbecile and making me go ahead and compete after Harris assaulted me. Maybe it’s for the best I’m being forced to compete against my will on a brand that is BENEATH me, against my will, with set of messed up ribs. Because, in this battle of the sexes? I reign supreme, and bluntly, these boys need every advantage in the world that they can get against the likes of me.
ღ There is a reason that I’m being billed as the most dominant force to EVER step foot into this company. It isn’t because it looks cute stitched on a baseball cap or ironed on some T-Shirt. I’m being billed as that because it is TRUE. Does it get on the nerves of some sexist pricks who assume I’m nothing to this business because of my anatomy? Absolutely. Do I thrive on it? ABSOLUTELY. Because as much as they want to cut me down at the knee, as much as they want to say that I’m nothing, my win-loss record against them, which is perfectly clean against them both while they’re struggling to keep in the limelight and keep being on TV, says otherwise. Big egos are NOTHING compared to cold, hard facts and statistics, and the facts say that Carmen Rivera is the top dog on Meltdown.
ღ All hail the Queen.
tagged: lively + borderland.
word count: 2263.
lyrics: "bad girl" - britney spears.
pictures: myself.
template: GODRIUS Exclusive.
notes: i hope you guys really enjoyed this one. i waited til the last minute, which i hate to do. but, unfortunately, these things happen. lol, hope you enjoy.
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