Post by SalTal on Mar 25, 2011 14:45:42 GMT -4
Completely upside down.
Be prepared for something completely unexpected, because tonight is going to be
Unlike Survive and Conquer;
Unlike my match at Christmas Chaos;
This isn't going to be like my title win;
A clean, well-fought, by-the-book match.
I tell you this, I look forward to
What Level-One will put me through simply to become champion.
I am not about to go through
What an honest, great, and true champion does.
I won't bear it because this is
The treatment that I have received since taking on my title.
I deserve so much more than
A world title match, headlining the biggest pay per view that this great company put on.
This is exactly what I want:
Level-One is after me, Pence is mad at me, and CJ Gates is crying over me.
I don't care that
The crowds will love and adore me again when I win again.
I am preparing myself for what will be another memorable match where
I ask myself “How do I compare to them?” as I lace my boots.
I watch these men and women perform every week and
I am part of the greatest group of wrestlers in this business:
This is a lie because
I am the greatest wrestler in Action Packed wrestling.
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Internet Explorer - *click* - Favorites - *click* - APW.com ...
Welcome to Action Packed Wrestling![/color]
Videos - *click* - Megastars - *click* - Sally Talfourd - *click* - Videos - *click*[/i]
Welcome to Happy Ending T.V.!
Recent - *click* - Episode #39: 7 Days - *click*
Recorded the 26th of March, 2011. It's the final countdown ... to Rasslemania! Watch Sally's journey over the last week leading up to the big night. Get inside her head, hear her thoughts on the match, and watch the preparation of a champion before the biggest match of her career.
Starring: Sally Talfourd, Shane
*click* - Loading ...
"Sally Talfourd presents ..."
is written across the screen, fades out, then
"In association with Action Packed Wrestling"
is next to appear, holds, then fades out for
"Happy Endings T.V."
fades away to a blank black screen, on which a big white heading slams into focus:
which finally gives way to a nice shot of the California Memorial Stadium. The weather is, well, beautiful (in a word). The sun has broken through for what is a lovely Spring day. The sky is free of any cloudy blemish, which is unfortunate because Sally was really hoping there'd be some storm clouds on the horizon. You know, the whole 'looming storm' and the danger stuff that she could wax on lyrically and metaphorically about for hours … and hours … and hours. Oh well, I guess she'll just have to talk about Lester for a few hours now. Hey! Don't say she didn't try and mix it up! Here she is now, anyway, walking into frame. She's got a light coat on, with a nice, white, frilly edging to the black. Beneath it, she's looking quite professional – a deep purples business shirt, but with ripples and curls through the fabric, and a pair of blank pants. Business-y shoes and, well, she's looking all professional – demure make-up and the hair in a simple top bun. I wonder what she's up to?
[Shane] Looking smart there Sally.
[Sally] Don't judge a book by it's cover. *Sally lets out a little laugh* So this is where it's all happening?
[Shane] Yeah. You figured out the route?
[Sally] Of course not! I paid the hotel for a driver. And please, remind me not to get Frank again! He was hopeless. *Sally turns from the camera to look over at the stadium once more* You know, I had really hoped there was going to be, like, storm clouds or something on the horizon. *See! I told you ...* Oh well. I guess I'll just have to make do. *She turns back to the camera, hands shoved into her pockets. A smile – almost depraved, certainly taunting in nature – creeps across her face* See you in seven days, Lester.
And, with that, the scene fades out. Short, to the point, and a bit of a mind game. It did its job. We all are left in anticipation on a blank screen, then, bam! In comes a nice big heading that even someone with Coke bottle glasses could see:
and this fades away as we come back in on a hotel room. I tell you something, hotels get so much free publicity with Happy Endings. I mean, it seems that every episode, part of it is set in one! Anyway, Shane walks about, as Sally is no where in sight. There is, however, the sound of running water (a shower, I guess), which he is keen to investigate. He winds around, through piles of strewn clothes, suitcases, and all sorts of random things until he finds what we can presume is the bathroom. He knocks on the door, and a familiar voice is heard.
[Shane] Sally?
[Sally] Yep!
Assuming 'yep' means come in, Shane reaches into frame and opens up the door. He gets about halfway through the door before there's an almighty scream, a flash of flesh, and then rushing about, Shane dives out of bathroom, the door quickly slams behind him. There's an awkward minute or two as Shane nervously shuffles around. The water cuts off, the sound of the shower door opening and closing, then the bathroom door opens up again. Slowly it edges open, and a dripping wet, drenched Sally appears … well, he head does, through the opening. She eyes Shane with a look that stares daggers.
[Sally] Are we going to have to go through the training again?
[Shane] I'm sor …
[Sally] Why did you even come in!?
[Shane] I thought …
[Sally] Argh! You're useless Shane!
Sally slams the door shut, a cloud of steam rushing out then fading away. There's some rustling about, then, the door opens up. Again, just a crack, enough for Sally to poke her head out once more and …
[Sally] See you in six days, Lester.
quick cut away to a blank black screen. Ok, so that one probably wasn't as intimidating as it was nearly … I don't know, sexual? Erotic? But whatever works, right? I mean, you use what gifts you're given. The men, they end up being naturally stronger. Naturally taller. Naturally heavier. Sally? She's got a whole lot of skill and a whole lot of legs. If that means she uses everything she's got then so be it. Whatever gets the win. I think we can all assume that Lester's hardly going to fall head over heels for Sally like some curtain jerker would (How are you doing Branden?), but even if it's one second of distraction, it's one second to Sally's advantage. We're on the blank screen for a moment, and then:
which ends up fading away, and being replaced with a shot of the APW heavyweight title. A tight close-up on the main plate. The gold gleams under a bright light, the sparkle off those four diamonds that frame those four immortal words: World Champion. The camera zooms out from it, and we find the belt resting up on a table, a black clothe thrown underneath it, the belt folded up perfectly so that it stands up and is leaning back ever so slightly; perfect for photos. I guess we're on one of those PR things? Shane zooms out far enough and … yep. There's Sally, sitting all nice and prim and proper on one seat, and across from her, Hannah Storm (APW's very own) sits, listening intently. Oh yeah, Sally is talking. Maybe we should listen to her.
[Sally] … and that's have it got stuck there.
There's a chorus of laughter as Sally finishes up. The camera whips around and there's a hall full of people. Magazine reporters, online bloggers, fans. All sorts of people. Maybe a few thousand. An auditorium full at least. And in the middle, there's a line behind a microphone.
[Hannah] Ok, enough about what happens outside the ring. Sally, you've been accused of a lot of things recently, one of which is that you've turned your backs on your fans. People are wondering what has happened to you to make you turn away from the people who supported you.
[Sally] That's a great question, Hannah. Yes, Level-One is one of the best in the business, but I'll beat him by wanting the win more. By going out there and trying harder. And by being the best megastar that APW has. *Sally sits back, smiles a little uncomfortably. Hannah looks at her a little inquisitively* Not going to cut it? *Sally laughs it off* Ok, yes, I have been branded as, you know, the “bad girl” *Sally quotes with her fingers* recently. But the whole situation is a lot simpler that me having changed or anything. The fact is this: I've not changed myself, ok? I've been like this since I came into the business. Anyone who has known me from before APW will remember that I never backed down from a fight, that I never stopped coming after someone I didn't like like, and that I am aggressive and demanding in the ring. Now, for the first few months at APW, I don't know – I guess people were looking past me and whatnot. They ignored all the bad and just focused on the good. They had no one to hold their hopes and dreams and all that. So they threw them at me.
Now, sure, I was happy to carry the fans along for a while. But when I got this *Sally gestures to the table, with the belt on it* things got a bit more real. I mean, I wasn't wrestling to make people happy, I was wrestling to make myself the champion that that belt symbolizes. If the fans didn't like that I stopped doing everything they did, then so be it. I'm the champion. I'm the best that APW has. I'm the person that they're still paying to see – love me or hate me. I'm now indifferent to what the fans want. I don't hate them for booing me. I just get a little annoyed that they come, demanding the best matches, demanding the best performances, demanding the best wrestlers … and I give them all that. And then they have the audacity to boo me? Maybe that's why, you know, I stopped really worrying about what they wanted and started to focus on how to make myself the best champion that APW has.
[Hannah] Well, you brought up being a champion. What would you say you've brought to APW since becoming champion?
Sally sits forward in her chair, eager to answer this one. She rubs her hands together, looking off as she gathers her thoughts together … then at the APW title … then back to Hannah with look of determination.
[Sally] Well, honestly, I've brought everything to that title. You don't respect a belt – you respect the person behind it. You don't have to face a belt – you have to face the person behind it. That belt is nothing without me. And, truth be told, it would be nothing if there wasn't someone behind it. It only means something, it's only important, it's only revered when the person behind it is something, important, and revered. Whoever wears it dictates what that belt stands for. When I wear it? That belt stands for the best. It stands for the future of APW. It stands for natural talent and born abilities. It literally is the sign of the best megastar in APW. Now, if Lester Only were to be wearing it – to make up an example – it wouldn't stand for any of those things. It would only stand for greed, for the past, and for … I don't know? Being second best? Being second rate? Something like that. Because he's no longer the best in APW. He's broken down. He's useless. He's not half the wrestler that I am. Lester is a throwback from an era in wrestling that everyone is trying so hard to forget. That's why every ran to me when I walked in – I represented something new.
I represented a change to APW for the better. They might not love me for it, but they know that me here as champion makes for a better champion than Lester. I don't go around beating people up. I don't throw a temper tantrum whenever I don't get my way. I don't round up gangs of people to do my fighting, all the while showing off the fact that's I'm a useless, yellow, pathetic little coward! *Sally spits out those last words … which brings her to the fact that maybe she's getting a little worked up. She composes herself, then folds her hands in her lap with a smile* People know that even if they don't like me, when I'm the champion they still like APW. They get the best of both worlds – they can still boo me, but they are bound to get the best matches. Do I care? No, of course not. I go out and I wrestle hard enough to keep my belt. And by doing that, everyone gets to ride the Talfourd coattails, getting all the benefits without having to put in any of the hard yards.
Strangely enough, there's a smattering of applause through the crowd then. It doesn't take over; the audience is still largely wary of clapping her. Especially after she just said that she's not all too fussed about them any more. But, you see, that's the thing. Maybe Sally was idealized. Maybe she was put up on a pedestal. Maybe she was seen through rose-colored lenses. Their only other option was Lester when she walked in. Now she's pushed him aside, people are scrutinizing her more. They look at her harder. And what do they see? Well, maybe it's not what they thought they were cheering. In that instance, maybe they're booing themselves for having been so stupid as they are booing Sally. Now that Sally's on top, and Lester has shown the world that he's no longer the person who can climb back up that mountain called APW, they can go and find someone new to cheer … and it would be about now that CJ Gates would make some sort of appearance. But, as per the deal to do all this, it's Sally and Sally only in attendance, so no worries about attention whores making an appearance!
[Hannah] Well, you brought him up. Level-One. You're been in a heated feud with him for a long time now – nearly since the day you walked in here. Rasslemania almost seems like the cresting of the wave for you both. What have you finally come to think of him now?
[Sally] Lester Only. *Sally lets out a laugh, shakes her head, then stares off into space to gather up all thought wild thoughts she has about him* Here is a wrestler that's both an insult to both the 'A' and the 'W', as well as the 'P' in between. You see, generations of wrestlers devoted their lives to perfecting the business that Lester Only is either ignorant of or indifferent to. And I'm sure when he read this, or figures out how to turn a computer on and log on to APW.com and watch this, that he will oh-so gallantly remind us all that he was part of that generation that perfected this business.. The fact is, that is the grossest miscarriage of truth. For some reason, everyone thinks Lester is about tradition and respect and wrestling. Lester Only, unlike your's truly, is all about one thing: Lester Only. He doesn't care about what happened before, and he doesn't care about what will happen next. He only cares about how to feed his ego, to get another line on the resume, and to get another pay day. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less. He is simple, like that. Which I guess is an obvious weakness that anyone can pray on. He can't let 'the moment' go by. If there's a chance to win a match or to show off to the world with one more move, he's going to show off. Look at last week, with OverDrive. He could have walked out that match as fit as a fiddle. Me? I'd had a match, and a hard one too. I was already worked over. Him? He ref'd it for crying out loud! The hardest thing he had to do was put a shirt on … which, come to think of it, is actually a hard thing for him to do. But regardless, he could have walked away and he'd still be better than me, going into the match. But no, he decided to show off to the world and what? Beat me down. And he could have just as easily left it there, avoided the storm that came afterwords. But no, he had to do that one last “show-stealing” *Sally rolls her eyes as she quotes the words* moment, trying to throw me through the announcer table and being the one left standing at the end of the night.
And what happened? His ass got grassed! He looked like such an idiot when he ended up going through the table as well. That's the great and powerful logic of Lester Only! *Sally puts on a man's voice* “Hmmm, I know what I'll do. I'll put myself into position to go get myself put through a table even with my broken-ass body in a fragile state. I'm so smart, I'm waiting on a call from MENSA!” *Back to normal voice* Please, that's the classic Level-One spot-monkey stuff. And he's just as bad in any match. When it's a choice of doing what's right and what's pathetically amazing, he will go for the pathetic option. Me? I know my limitations. I know where I stand. And I know how to win a match. I don't need to make sure that everyone is thinking about one spot in a match. Because when I win, that's what they're thinking about! They're thinking about that moment – and it's happened more often than not in APW – when my hand is raised, my music plays, the belt is handed to me, and I'm there, in the center of my ring, left to celebrate. I'm not the one in a wrecked heap. I'm not the one whose sorry shoulders got pinned to the ring. I'm not the one who feels the sting of defeat right here. *Sally taps her temple* I'm the winner, and you, Lester, are the loser. *Sally looks to Hannah* So that's what I think of Lester. I think he's nothing more than a glorified monkey pulling tricks for peanuts. Because that's what he's going to get from our match: Peanuts.
Hannah looks down at her clipboard.
[Hannah] Well, before we go to the questions from the audience, we have to know: If Lester were here, what would you say to him?
[Sally] I'd say … *Sally trails off, then casts a glance down to Shane with his camera* … see you in five days, Lester.
And with that, there's a quick cut away. We don't need to hear the fans' questions. We know what they will be: Why did you change? When is the 'real' Sally coming back? Why do you wrestle? Can I have you number. You know, the same things Sally's been asked for the seven years she's been wrestling. The screen holds on the blank, black screen, and then:
Which fades away for a shot of Sally, back in her hotel room. It's certainly not looking any better than before. But, there she is, in her laptop, laying on her bed. One hand under her chin keeps her head up, the other is furiously typing away. One-handed typing – a skill usually perfected by men. But we digress. She's busy getting caught up on all her emails. Suddenly her eyebrows raise.
[Sally] Hmmm … an email from Lester …
Sally starts to read … and read … and read. Eventually Shane has to edit out how much reading she is doing from the episode. There's a quick cut, and it goes from being the middle of the night to the sun coming up outside the window. Sally blinks a couple of times (her eyes were getting a bit dry – what with all her life being sucked out by reading Lester's email. She nods a serious not, “hmmms” a serious “hmmm”. Then, she gets an idea. She sits up, then presses down the 'control' key … searches … searches … there it is! She presses down the 'f' key as well. A dialog box appears. Sally track over to 'Find' and types in 'Sally' then tracks down to 'Replace with:' and Sally types in 'Lester'. She clicks apply.
[Sally] There, that's better. *She tracks up to the 'Send to:' bar and types in 'Press group', then moves down, types a little blurb about how this is the official press release and the last one was a mistake and sends. Sally looks satisfied, then spins around in her chair to face up with Shane* So, what do we have planned today, Shane?
[Shane] Nothing. You made a point to keep today free. Training day, remember?
[Sally] That's right! Up and at'em man! Let's hit the gym!
Sally jumps off the bed, then races around picking up some clothes as she runs to the bathroom. A slow fade from the hotel room down to the gym, and we find Sally working up a sweat. Not for the first time this week, and certainly not for the last. And now's about the time we get one of those classic training montages. Sally lifting weights. Sally running miles and miles and miles on a treadmill. Sally boxing a punching bag. All that essential wrestling stuff. Then she's wrestling a trainer on some mats, carefully going through the holds and the bars and the submissions. Getting tips on reverses, getting advice on executions. I mean, we shouldn't have to see this to know how great Sally is, but it's helpful to remind ourselves just what sort of work goes into being a world champion. It's not about corrupt and dubious agents, secret government programs, and playing hooky from the actual hard work. No, this is where talent and prestige and skills are built. This is dedication. The dedication required to earn a championship. To win a championship. To deserve a championship. This is what a true APW champion does. It might not be the interesting stuff that the latest blockbuster movie is made of. Nor might it be the most appealing. But the fact remains that if you want to climb to the top and stay there, these are the hard yards that you have to put in.
We finally fade to a shot of Sally sucking down deep breaths, a water bottle in hand and her headphones in. She's worked up quite the sweat … which is completely absorbed by the new microfiber material that Happy Ending clothing comes it AND leaves no sweat stains! Quick! Go to APW.com to get yourself the latest in trendy fashion gear! Sally finds Shane taking her in with the camera, watching as she comes down from her training high. Yes, this is her addiction, her need, her drug. Training, wrestling, winning. This is what she can't get enough of. It's what drives her to success, what drives her to the top. This is what keeps her separate from the crowd. She swore she wasn't going to be another person that just ran with the regular crowd a long time ago. And, since coming to APW, that's what she's proved to do every week. She's stood out, She's defied the critics. She's been the one to watch. And, come the end of Rasslemania, she's going to be the one to watch all over again. The centerer of everyone's attention. Hands raised in victory. APW title back around her waist.
[Sally] See you in four days, Lester.
And that's where we fade out. A hold on a blank screen then:
which fades away to a shot of Sally, again on her laptop. Though this time she's actually out of her hotel room. She's taken a risk and gone public. Covered up by that same black coat from a few days earlier, a pair of huge sunglasses that hide half her face (the latest from Dior, of course), she's hunched over a table in a … Starbucks? Uh, once a Seattle girl, always a Seattle girl. She has a coffee in hand as she intently reads what the press fall-out from Lester's email is. She shakes her head, and the mumbles to herself.
[Shane] What was that?
[Sally] This headline: 'Level-One to [Sally] You're no different than me.' Lester. If I became you, you tried to become me. But you failed at that! You couldn't even get that right! *Sally looks around, exasperated* Where do these idiots *Sally taps her screen* get off writing this crap? And why are they listening to him?
[Shane] I assume you're trying to say that you are different.
[Sally] Well, no. *Sally pauses … thinks* Well, yes, we are. *Stops, thinks again* I don't know. I mean, it's more complicated.
[Shane] What do you mean?
Sally sits back in her seat, takes a sip from her cup (a chai latte, full cream for those wondering). It's still a little hot, so Sally blows across the top to cool it down before she puts it back to rest.
[Sally] I mean I don't really care about the differences between us outside the ring. I don't care what Lester wears, what he says, what he runs around thinking. I care about one thing, when it comes to you, Lester: What you can do in the ring. You? You only care about this belt? *Sally throws a hand toward the belt* Me? I care about beating you. I do get consumed with that thought. I do get focused on it. I do get a bit determined over it. And you know what? It's a hell of a lot better than getting distracted by shoddy agents, freaking fight clubs, and whatever else you've been up to. I mean, fun and games might be … *Sally goes to speak, realises she's in a verbal corner, and just goes with it* … fun and games, but when it comes to game time, what on Earth is sitting around with your promo guy going to get you? You're the challenger here, buddy. Why aren't you training with every … single … moment that you're awake? I know how good I am. Far out, YOU know how good I am! Why aren't you working for this title? Why aren't you showing the dedication and the drive and the focus that you used to show? If I could play the psychiatrist for the moment this time, it's one of two reasons.
The first is that you're ego has become so inflated, so big, so consuming that you somehow think you're entitled to the championship. Because you deserve it, you wouldn't possibly have to train, right? The world will correct itself. Fate will intervene. Everything that is meant to be will be. And you will win the belt, right? So it doesn't matter if you train … or condition yourself … or even try, right? You will win that belt by not even having to lift a finger in effort. That's been the Level-One philosophy since I've been here. You and your 'ordained right' to do what you want, to say what you want, to be what you want. And then when someone else dares to challenge you, to say that “Well, actually, I want to be myself” you have the hypocrisy to call me out on it? It just reinforces that whole 'entitlement'. I'm surprised you're not twig-thin, because it's got to be hard getting food past that silver spoon in your mouth. *Sally holds up her hand to the camera, turning away from it* And please, spare the sob story about how your father hit you, your mother didn't love you, and you've been fighting oh-so hard your whole life. No one wants to hear that. And they don't want to hear about how you're entitled to anything, especially when you threw it all away.
The only other reason that you might not be putting your all into your prep this week is because the result is, indeed, already a foregone conclusion. You know you stand no chance. You know that no matter how hard you train, how long you train for, what you do to train, it won't matter. Because you won't get to the levels that you need to to beat me. You know that you're broken down, that you're not as good as you used to be, that you're a second-tier talent now. And when you have to face a top-tier talent? You can't muster up what it takes to win. So you've accepted that. You've gone through your however many stages of grief, and now you've come to acceptance. You've accepted just how good I am like each and every one of the fans have realized it. And you're about to accept – just like all these fans are about to accept – that Sally Talfourd hasn't change. I haven't changed because I'm still twice as dangerous, twice as intense, and twice as talented than you've ever been, Lester. But when I'm free off all these expectations, hopes, and dreams? I can do what I want now, when I want to, and how I want to. And you have no idea what happens then. You haven't had the pleasure of a match since this supposed “change” has happened, so you have no idea what you're in for.
[Shane] You don't think he'll be able to, you know, adapt to you?
[Sally] There's no time for that in a match like this. This is the main event of the year. There's no time to adapt or develop or practice when that bell rings. This is make or break time. And I intend to break Lester. And while I'm the best wrestler that he will match up with, I don't have to rely on that and that only to get the job done. Anything is going in this match. No disqualifications. It's not my preference, but it's helping me more than it's helping him. Any advantage he thought he had simply by being a man. A chair doesn't care how much you can bench-press when it slams into your head! *Sally cracks a rather sinister smile* Weapons don't discriminate: young or old, broken or fit, man or woman. They don't care who you are, they will ruin you. And I'm sure there are a few surprises under the ring. The even better thing, though, is that APW has hardly seen me outside of a pure wrestling match. And it's that stuff that's going to be more deadly. You see, I don't have to worry about counts for my holds. I don't have to worry about some silly five-second count. I can put you in pain, Lester, and have no reason to break it.
I don't have to listen to the ref or the crowds or even you. I don't have to listen to anyone expect the most important person in that ring: Me. If I think you're overdue for, you know, the COTS, then I'm going to get you in it. And if that means getting leverage from the ropes, then so be it. I don't have to listen to the zebra in the ring. If I want to break you arm, and it's going to take three minutes in a fujiwara, then I'm putting you in it and I'm holding you there until I hear that snap. If the only way to keep you down is to snap that ankle, tear those muscles and those tendons from the bone, and put you out of my ring for six months, I'm locking on that ankle lock and I'm going to turn it like it was a bottle cap! *Sally sits back again, that creepy smile still there* If you think no DQ means that the rules are the only thing being thrown out the window, then you're sorely mistaken. So sorely mistaken.
[Shane] That's … uhhh … pretty aggressive Sally.
[Sally] We're past the pleasantries stage, Shane. He doesn't care much fro me, and I don't care much for him. Isn't that right Lester? We're beyond saying how great we are, and now we're talking about how we can destroy one-another. I wish I didn't have to … sort of. I wish I didn't have to embarrass you in front of the wrestling world once more. I mean, it drags me down as much as it drags you down. It's just getting to the point where it's sad. You're the TV show I want to change the channel on. Even if I was in your match I wouldn't blame people for turning you off. We know your Mexican wrestling name would be Generic Wrestler #43 – and they only gave you #43 because 1 to 42 were all reasonably interesting numbers! There's nothing amazing about you anymore. In fact, there hasn't been for a while now. I came in to APW and Bryan Payne and Pence Weatherlight had done an amazing job on your body. Your neck was ruined a year ago. So you know what? I don't have to target there. My job is already done when it comes to your neck. I can break arm, take out your leg, dislocate a shoulder … then go onto your neck with a COTS and it will be like your neck over for 3 days! And that's where the beauty of the no DQ match come into play. This should all be surprising to you because you don't know who I am now. Because you don't know what I'm like any more. Because anything you thought you knew about [i[me is out the window too. Common sense and reason is gone along with the rules! If I have to break you, Lester, believe me when I say this …[/color]
Sally leans forward, taking off her sunglasses and staring into the camera. The intensity and the focus and the determination going straight to Lester.
[Sally] I will break you. See you in three days, Lester.
Quick cut to a blank black screen, and then:
And we come in on a shot of what looks to be a very rich and swank boardroom. There's a long table down the middle of the room with all sorts of suited men and women sitting along the sides. Up on the wall, there is something hidden behind a curtain. There's an empty chair at the head of the table, but not for too long, as lovely Sally Talfourd makes her way to the seat. She gives a respectful nod to the people gathered.
[Sally] Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for getting here at short notice. I've called a meeting here for our new business. Now, as you know, I've been interested in entering the marketing industry for a while now … for no real reason. *She shoots a look at Shane, expecting him to say nothing about being dropped as the star of a few advertising campaigns* This is the first meeting for my business: Talfourd Industries: Today's Solutions. Now, *Sally stands up from the table, then goes over to a curtain hanging from the wall* the moment we've all been waiting for: The unveiling of our new corporate logo. Shane, drum-roll!
Sally looks at Shane, who looks around, shrugs, then starts tapping on the table. Satisfied, Sally takes hold of the gold cord hanging at the side and pulls. The curtain comes back and we have a great blue sign with four white letters: T.I.T.S. Sally goes to turn back and speak to the board, then stops herself. She turns back to the sign and gives it a long “Hmmm ...” before turning back to everyone, an earnest and innocent look on her face. Shane is trying his best not to laugh.
[Shane] That sign says …
[Sally] Talfourd Industries! That is correct, Shane! *Sally glares at Shane, cutting him off before anything can be said. Though, what really needs to be said?* Yeah. Talfourd Industries. And what we're looking at doing is bring great … big … first-class solutions to all those people out there. *Sally sits back down, all serious still* Now, what I want to know is how we're going to get out there and spread the word about T.I. … Talfourd Industries. The thing is, we need to re-brand me. People are against me, against what I've become. Well, we just need to convince then that they actually do like me. So, what can we do?
[Suit 1] What about going into a soup kitchen?
[Sally] I hate soup.
[Suit 1] I mean to help the homeless. It would add a soft edge to you. People like celebrities who do the whole charity thing.
[Sally] What? And feed them? Ew, no. Who else?
[Suit 2] What about some charity appearances that don't involve homeless people?
[Sally] This match might as well be a charity appearance. I mean, Level-One is getting a whole bunch of money for doing nothing! That sounds like charity to me.
[Suit 3] Maybe some new photo shoots? Change up your public appearance to appeal to target audiences?
[Sally] This is the right track. I like this.
[Suit 4] How about a make-over post-Rasslemania so that everyone can get on your winning bandwagon?
[Sally] That's even better!
[Suit 5] What about you wrestle some no-hoper immediately after Rasslemania so that you look pretty awesome. You just go through a huge main event, with weapons and all sorts of blood, and then you back up a few days later and beat a man that we market as the greatest indy star in the US?
[Sally] Love it! Go, get to work on these ideas now! I want a plan on my desk by the end of our day. And don't be afraid to get the T.I.T.S. name out there guys. I want T.I.T.S. to be on the end of everyone's tongue. I want people thinking of Sally Talfourd when they think of T.I.T.S. … *Everyone starts to file out of the boardroom, leaving just Sally and Shane. She turns to him and the trusty camera* How did I not see that? T.I.T.S.? Really?
[Shane] I think it's a goo marketing campaign. I think the average wrestling fan thinks about your company as much as wrestling already!
[Sally] Whatever. I'm not getting distracted. We have a match in a couple of days. It's all getting nearer and it's all getting … more calm. I'm not nervous, you know? I can't imagine that anyone else on the card is like that though. There's a lot of pressure on them all to try and overshadow me and my match.
[Shane] You don't think any of them stand to have a better performance?
[Sally] Of course not! I mean … I'm not in any of the matches, so how can they be any good? I'm the star of Rasslemania. I'm what people are tuning in to watch. I'm what people are paying to see. I'm who the pay per view was made for! I tell you what *Sally swings around on her chair, hops out of it, and starts to walk toward Shane* If I retain my belt, I'll challenge everyone on the card to a match each! Just to prove that I was the star on this show. Biggs, Ruckus, that IWC guy ... even Jeff! I'll take anyone on because I know I'm the best that APW has, and a main event win for this title only seals that idea in everyone's head. And besides, even with Level-One's busted butt in my match, I will still outperform all these jokers that come before me ...
[Shane] You know, you've made a bit of a point about Level-One's body. What makes yours any better? I mean ...
[Sally] Me? I'm a young and fresh … something. I've got nothing hanging over my head as I walk into our match except the couple of bruises he gave me on OverDrive. But, the ironic thing is that he gave the exact same treatment to himself too! He's got what I've got and then a whole lot more … and herpes. Because you just can't get rid of that. But we'll put that aside for now and think about the huge effort you, Lester, have to put out to bring this wonderful body down to your own level. The skill and the tenacity and the fuel that you will need for your fire to force you aching, in pain, broken body to go the distance with me? Oh sure, I'm not perfect, straight out of the factory. But I'm in a heck of a lot better shape than you! So what you need to do to wear me down? To break me? You don't have that in you, Lester. Not any more. And even if you do, I have more. I have more drive. I have more passion. I have more fire.
[Shane] How bad shape do you think he is in?
[Sally] When we have a little video of all our dearly departed, you know the regular obits bit, could someone please throw up a picture of Level-One's career? No! I've got it: Lester is in such a bad shape that I'm sure there's a government program that APW is eligible for having him employed. Cash for Clunkers, maybe? Is that still going? Because you're our resident clunker – that old, run down, no good car that really needs to head to the scrap yard now that we've got a brand new, more efficient, faster car. *Sally even laughs at that one, then comes to sit down in the chair besides Shane* No, in all seriousness I know he's still dangerous and deadly. I know that he's still capable of more than the rest of the roster. Even at fifty percent, he's still one hundred percent better than everyone … except me. And it's those weaknesses that he brings to the rings that I need to exploit. If I don't, then I'm fighting a battle that is a lot harder than it needs to be. And the fans want to see the former, not the latter. They want to see someone come in, strategize, and take their opponent apart piece by piece.
[Shane] Are you ready for how the fans are going to treat you?
[Sally] Of course. I mean, it might be a bit of a shock, but at the end of the night, I'm the one in the ring. I'm the one they paid to see. If I could address the fans directly though, I'd say this to them: I promise you all this: You will hate me, you will boo me, you will loathe me all the more by the end of our match when I retain my belt. But you know what else? You'll watch me even more. You'll pay attention to me. You'll flock to see me. You might not love me any more, but I know you're still going to be there, at my matches, watching my show, and waiting. Waiting for me to lose. To mess up. To get beat for my belt. I promise you all that, in the end, nothings going to change expect I'll have the greatest win of my career under my belt.
Sally trails off, dreaming of that great win that she's working so hard for. The cap of what has – to now – been an impeccable career. Sure, it's not perfect, but it was never going to be. A woman, in a man's business? Starting so young? Working from the bottom up? It was never going to be the sort of track record that others have had. But it's the milestones that count – and APW has brought a lot of them. Tournament wins, award recognitions, title belts. And the greatest milestone of all: conquering Level-One. Being one of the few who has a winning record against the legend in this business. Well, now it's time for a new legend to work their way into the minds of the wrestling world. Rasslemania is the chance to cement that spot in the wrestling world; to make sure that Sally's name is synonymous with success. Sally comes back to reality, swings around in her seat, and drills a smile at the camera.
[Sally] See you in two days, Lester.
And, with that, we fade out to come into the final 48 hours before show day. As we expect …
appears on the screen, before fading out to Sally Talfourd back where we started: out the front of the California Memorial Stadium. The weather, again, is a perfect Spring day. Sally stares across the street to the stadium as it itself looms there, dominating the shot. It's there that the the culmination of one of the most intense, fueled, aggressive feud that APW has ever seen see will come to a head. Rasslemania. Sally Talfourd. Level-One. The APW World Heavyweight Title up for grabs … see, wouldn't it be awesome if there were storm clouds coming?
[Sally] So this is it. One day away from what is really a career defining match. I'd like to say that it's all a big question mark, but we know what will happen. Lester and I will both come out hard and furious. We will both come out looking to win. We will start in a wrestling match and end in complete and bloodied chaos. Then, when the blood has stopped flowing and the dust has settled, I will walk out the winner. I will walk out with my belt. I will be the APW champion still.
Sally turns to look at the camera with a grim smile. She knows what's waiting for her. A match bigger than any she's been in. On a stage more important than any she's been on. At a pay per view bigger than any she's seen before.
[Sally] I'll win my match … so long as I get here on time.
[Shane] You got Frank here again?
[Sally] Yep.
Sally turns back to the camera.
[Sally] Even with all the trash talk, Lester, I'm glad I'm here with you. Because there's no other cherished APW megastar that I'd rather beat than you to make sure that I become part of the history here. APW is my home now. APW is my place. I am APW these days. As long as I have my title, as long as I main event the shows, as long as I can beat anyone that they throw in front of me, I will be APW. Your time is passed. You're time is ended. Your time was yesterday. I am tomorrow. You don't need to be a genius to see that. You don't need to be, you know, as intelligent as your's truly *Sally puts a modest and embarrassed hand on her chest, as if someone had just called her intelligent … which isn't likely to happen any time soon* to realize that I'm not just the best that APW has, but I'm the most important thing to APW. APW needs me now that Lester has been proven to be … well, nothing more than your average wrestler. Nothing more than a guy who used to have “it” then lost “it” so, so, so long ago. And you certainly don't need to be a super-genius to see that, that's for sure.
And the fact that you deny all this – that APW needs me and that you're well passed it – shows just one thing: You really have lost sight of what's reality these days. So save your new-age mumbo-jumbo psycho-babble for someone else, Lester. Let's face the reality of the situation, right now. I'm not like you. If I was, there would be no need for this match, because we'd both just be fighting for the title of second best. I mean, that would be just like match where third and fourth place teams play off to see who gets the participation award. No one gives a crap about that match! *Sally runs a hand through her hair, threading a few strands behind her ears* You think I've become you? Let me tell you one important difference between you at your worst and me at my very best right now: I still care. Now I know what you're going to say: I only care about myself. The fact of the matter is this: I care about a lot more. I care enough to front for our match because I don't want APW to turn into another damned Level-One World! I care enough to keep on coming out here and cutting the truth for the world to see because I'm worried what kind of fans we have that are so stupid enough to stop booing you and start booing me! I care enough to continue to prove to everyone that you are nothing but a fraud in this business.
No, in all honestly, I never turned into you. I didn't evolve or change or become you. The fact is I'm the same woman who walked through the door. Only now? Now I have to be like this. I've always had “this” inside of me. I've always had “this” waiting to come out. I've always had “this” clawing at me. I just never needed to, you know, open the box. I never needed to let “this” out because, well, it never was hard to get to the top. I mean, did you see what I had to do to get there? I won my first pay per view match and I captured the attention of everyone. Then I win a tournament and everyone was enamored with me! They couldn't stop talking about me. They loved me! And then what happened? I lost to you. I got pinned fair and square. You were, in fact, the better man … well, the only man … that night. But what happened? The fans, they loved me even more! My ratings, my views, my merch sales? They all went through the roof.
Then, when I won the belt from you? When I beat you? When I became APW World Heavyweight? I was God to these people. I was everything that they wanted. Everything that they dreamed about. Everything that they had prayed for. It didn't matter that I had lost to you a pay per view before. It didn't matter that I was as green to APW as a leaf in Spring. It didn't matter that these people had hitched their wagon to me before I actually had a chance to stop … catch my breath … and show off the person I really am. No, they jumped on me in a snap. *Sally clicks her fingers* Now they've got buyers' remorse. They are realizing that hey, I might not just be the start of the second coming. And you know what? I actually got sick and tired of everyone thinking that. I got sick and tired of being the poster-child for, well, everything that's great and good and prim and proper! It was like I was being strangled! I was being stopped by all these expectations. And you know what? If I had kept up with them all, I'd have been about as good … ad good … as good as you, Lester. I'd have been second best. I'd have lost my title a lot earlier. I'd have been a loser. Now though?
I am in the best position to win. Because no one has faith in me. No one believes in me. No one has expectations in me. I don't have to act in any sort of way. I don't have to wrestle any way. And I don't have to do what anyone else wants me to. I just have to please one person: Me. And trust me when I say that I know exactly what I want. I know all the buttons to push and the spots to .. touch. I know how to walk out of that ring completely and utterly satisfied. Out of breath. Covered in sweat. Needing a cigarette. But still knowing that I was the best walking in and I am the best walking out. I will go in with that belt, and I'm walking out with that belt, no matter what you find to throw at me. I know your game. You're old. You're injured. You're not even near to your prime. You are an old horse trying to keep up with the thoroughbred that's just come off the farm and can walk around the track faster than you can run it. Face it, Lester, you're past it. You're not even half as good as I am these days. Maybe if we were matching up, I don't know, two years ago? Three? I'd know that I wasn't better than you. But, you know, like you said: The past doesn't count.
Oh but you're wrong there, Lester, about yet another thing: The past does count. I've been studying you for the past year. And, having studied you for that long, I have learned me a few things. Like how you move, what you do, how you try to win. The normal stuff. But do you want to know what the most important thing was that I learned? You cover up your fears with all sorts of hot air and talk and verbal rants. And, going by the level of vitriol you've spewed my way with your silly little email, you're absolutely petrified of our match. You must be absolutely frightened out of your wits going by what you had to say about me. But, it's pretty obvious why you're scared. Not scared or me, but rather of our match. Because you have so much left to lose. That's right, you still have a whole lot that you can still lose. *Sally holds up a hand to silence Lester who is probably yelling at his monitor already* Oh sure, you might not have a title, but that's the thing: When you don't have a title on the line, you're staking everything you thought you would never have to risk.
In our match, you stand to lose that legendary status that you oh-so covet. That chance to stand head and shoulders above everyone. That soapbox from which you oh-so frequently lecture us all about the rights and the wrongs of this great business of ours. You loose that right to call yourself a legend when you get beat by someone debuting at Rasslemania against you. Everything your career has built you up to be – untouchable, unstoppable, unbeatable – will be nothing after I beat you. That's a lot at stake right there. But there's more … there's always more. When you lose here, that's what everyone remembers. No one remembers all your other wins. No one remembers your other Rasslemania moments. No one remembers what successes you had at the night of nights. They will forever remember the loss you suffered against me. It's unfortunate … I guess, but it's necessary. Because history in this business only remembers the people who can climb to the top and can stay there. When you lose these two things – your status and your history – then you, Lester, officially having nothing at all. You have no championship. You have no career. You have no past, no present and no future. You have nothing. And that's not a place you can rebuild it all from. No no no, you can't go anywhere. You officially become the bottom and the only thing left for you is a disgraced exit from my business.
I'm sure you're thinking that I'm probably scared about what lays before us. Honestly though, no I'm not. I'd be scared if I knew I was going to struggle to win. I'd say all sorts of things to try and cover it up: that my opponent was just talks bullshit, that she is a twit, that she is ego-driven. I'd say just about anything to try and distract people from the fact that I have no plan, no tactic, no approach to the biggest match of my career. I'd rant and rave, wave my arms about *Which she does* and throw up all kinds of distractions – like making fun of my opponent and what she might do to pass the time – rather than actually, you know, do something about my situation. *Sally takes a deep breath, calming herself down from getting too heated* But I don't do any of this. I'm not scared of our match. I'm not scared of what awaits us at the end because I know what's going to happen. I focus on what's important: Our match, your skills, my talent. I don't get overly distracted with all sorts of life crap. I take a few moments from training and working and doing what I do best every now and then … and then I'm straight back into it.
Because that's what I do best: I wrestle. I might not talk the best, act the best, pretend the best. But I certainly do wrestle the best. My wrestling is poetry. It's an artwork. You, and yours? You don't even try to make your matches anything more than disorganized chaos. You are like a toddler who gets his fingers into the paint pots and goes crazy – not realizing he's no longer finger-painting the paper but has moved on to the carpet and the walls. You, in the ring Lester, is just a means to an end. The means is assaulting your opponent, and the end is getting what you want. And it might have worked against those Beautiful Disaster dropkicks a couple weeks ago, and against Ryan Ruckus when he was most likely as high as a kite, but it won't be working against me. Because I've learned you Lester. I've studied you, I've tracked you, I've seen your evo … well, devolution in the ring over the past year.
Sally stops to turn around to face the stadium once more. She buries her hands in her pockets again. She starts to walk back to the curb of the street to get a little closer. Closer to that fateful match … sort of. Anyway, she continues to talk, not so much at the camera any more, but just to whoever will listen to her at this point.
[Sally] Honestly, if you stopped thinking about yourself and started thinking about what's around you, you'd realize that our match at Rasslemania is going to be something to see. It's going to be a match for the books. Sure, you're going to lose, but at least one of us will get a boost from it. Ill ride a huge wave of success after this. APW won't have a choice but to recognize me as being just that good. It won't matter though, because whether they want to acknowledge it or not, I know how important I am. I know that everyone should love me. I don't need the silly little applause or the pat on the back to tell me that I matte. Because I know that if I'm not here, APW has a handful of half-talented wrestlers and two handfuls of excuses for wrestlers. Without me, APW is a pit of despair and tragedy and … it just sucks, ok? I can't think of better words than that. *Sally look to the side of the shot, to Shane* It's been a long week, don't judge.
[Shane] My name is not judge.
Bonus points for an Arrested Development reference? Anyway, Sally fronts up to the camera. To bring all this to a head.
[Sally] Lester, you might be a bit surprised to hear that I read that email a bit more thoroughly after the first time. And it was funny, you said something that actually struck a cord in me. You said that I was going to Hell. I'm going to Hell? Let me tell you something, Lester. I'm in Hell already. I've been in Hell ever since I came here. This place is Hell, and you are the Satan himself. Everywhere I turned since I walked through the doors here, I saw the tortured souls, the damned people, the burning brimstone. I saw the fans being tortured by your your command. I saw the other talent here damned to have to serve at the wills of you. And everywhere I looked, I saw the fire that comes with intense rage, burning on its own self-hatred. I knew I wanted to put it out and save APW. And I did, but no one has seen what I have done for them. If you get my belt back, then all my work will be undone. Everything I did will be for nothing. And I'm not allowing that to happen.
I'm not letting you take back control. The fans might hate me now, but the will soon appreciate the work I do for them. And after that, after they do realize it, then if they still want to hate me, so be it. But I am the same woman who walked into APW. I'm the same woman walking into Rasslemania as I was walking into Mayhem. Walking into OverDrive. I am the same wrestler – more skilled, more talented – that beat you on the past two big occasions, Lester. And nothing's changed except the rules for our match. Now that we're free to do what we like? Things have got a whole lot more difficult for you. So come Rasslemania, bring everything you have to our match. I deserve it, at the least. I deserve to get one last great match out of you. Despite the fact that you're no longer capable of those sorts of feats. Despite that fact that this match is a foregone conclusion. Despite the fact that you don't deserve it. Bring your everything, and so will I. Bring every technical tactic and wild weapon idea, and I will too. Then we'll finally show the world who is truly better. We'll show the world who is truly the APW megastar that deserves all the attention. We'll show the world who really deserves the title of APW World Heavyweight Champion.
I'll see you soon, Lester.
Sally turns from the camera to look back at the stadium. The end is very apropos. There doesn't need to be a 'goodbye' bigger than that. That's all that matters right now. The match. APW, the fans, the world? They are all looking at this match. They want to know who will win. They want to know who will be champion. They want to know who will finally be labeled as the best. And, honestly, so too do these two. Maybe one more than the other – as it's her first Rasslemania, and that really is a big thing – but no one can say that they aren't interested in how this match is going to turn out. Sally takes a deep breath and lets out a long, steady breath. No shakes or nerves. She looks as calm as we've see her. Focused. Determined. This is the Sally Talfourd that wins the big matches. The Sally that steps up to make it count. The Sally that makes sure she takes it all to the ring, and then walks out champion at the end of the night. The scene fades out on Sally looking at, well, what lays ahead of her. There's a pause and then
"Sally Talfourd"
is handwritten across the screen, in purple. Before it fades out and the episode comes to a close.
Be prepared for something completely unexpected, because tonight is going to be
Unlike Survive and Conquer;
Unlike my match at Christmas Chaos;
This isn't going to be like my title win;
A clean, well-fought, by-the-book match.
I tell you this, I look forward to
What Level-One will put me through simply to become champion.
I am not about to go through
What an honest, great, and true champion does.
I won't bear it because this is
The treatment that I have received since taking on my title.
I deserve so much more than
A world title match, headlining the biggest pay per view that this great company put on.
This is exactly what I want:
Level-One is after me, Pence is mad at me, and CJ Gates is crying over me.
I don't care that
The crowds will love and adore me again when I win again.
I am preparing myself for what will be another memorable match where
I ask myself “How do I compare to them?” as I lace my boots.
I watch these men and women perform every week and
I am part of the greatest group of wrestlers in this business:
This is a lie because
I am the greatest wrestler in Action Packed wrestling.
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Recent - *click* - Episode #39: 7 Days - *click*
Recorded the 26th of March, 2011. It's the final countdown ... to Rasslemania! Watch Sally's journey over the last week leading up to the big night. Get inside her head, hear her thoughts on the match, and watch the preparation of a champion before the biggest match of her career.
Starring: Sally Talfourd, Shane
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"Sally Talfourd presents ..."
is written across the screen, fades out, then
"In association with Action Packed Wrestling"
is next to appear, holds, then fades out for
"Happy Endings T.V."
fades away to a blank black screen, on which a big white heading slams into focus:
7 DAYS
which finally gives way to a nice shot of the California Memorial Stadium. The weather is, well, beautiful (in a word). The sun has broken through for what is a lovely Spring day. The sky is free of any cloudy blemish, which is unfortunate because Sally was really hoping there'd be some storm clouds on the horizon. You know, the whole 'looming storm' and the danger stuff that she could wax on lyrically and metaphorically about for hours … and hours … and hours. Oh well, I guess she'll just have to talk about Lester for a few hours now. Hey! Don't say she didn't try and mix it up! Here she is now, anyway, walking into frame. She's got a light coat on, with a nice, white, frilly edging to the black. Beneath it, she's looking quite professional – a deep purples business shirt, but with ripples and curls through the fabric, and a pair of blank pants. Business-y shoes and, well, she's looking all professional – demure make-up and the hair in a simple top bun. I wonder what she's up to?
[Shane] Looking smart there Sally.
[Sally] Don't judge a book by it's cover. *Sally lets out a little laugh* So this is where it's all happening?
[Shane] Yeah. You figured out the route?
[Sally] Of course not! I paid the hotel for a driver. And please, remind me not to get Frank again! He was hopeless. *Sally turns from the camera to look over at the stadium once more* You know, I had really hoped there was going to be, like, storm clouds or something on the horizon. *See! I told you ...* Oh well. I guess I'll just have to make do. *She turns back to the camera, hands shoved into her pockets. A smile – almost depraved, certainly taunting in nature – creeps across her face* See you in seven days, Lester.
And, with that, the scene fades out. Short, to the point, and a bit of a mind game. It did its job. We all are left in anticipation on a blank screen, then, bam! In comes a nice big heading that even someone with Coke bottle glasses could see:
6 DAYS
and this fades away as we come back in on a hotel room. I tell you something, hotels get so much free publicity with Happy Endings. I mean, it seems that every episode, part of it is set in one! Anyway, Shane walks about, as Sally is no where in sight. There is, however, the sound of running water (a shower, I guess), which he is keen to investigate. He winds around, through piles of strewn clothes, suitcases, and all sorts of random things until he finds what we can presume is the bathroom. He knocks on the door, and a familiar voice is heard.
[Shane] Sally?
[Sally] Yep!
Assuming 'yep' means come in, Shane reaches into frame and opens up the door. He gets about halfway through the door before there's an almighty scream, a flash of flesh, and then rushing about, Shane dives out of bathroom, the door quickly slams behind him. There's an awkward minute or two as Shane nervously shuffles around. The water cuts off, the sound of the shower door opening and closing, then the bathroom door opens up again. Slowly it edges open, and a dripping wet, drenched Sally appears … well, he head does, through the opening. She eyes Shane with a look that stares daggers.
[Sally] Are we going to have to go through the training again?
[Shane] I'm sor …
[Sally] Why did you even come in!?
[Shane] I thought …
[Sally] Argh! You're useless Shane!
Sally slams the door shut, a cloud of steam rushing out then fading away. There's some rustling about, then, the door opens up. Again, just a crack, enough for Sally to poke her head out once more and …
[Sally] See you in six days, Lester.
quick cut away to a blank black screen. Ok, so that one probably wasn't as intimidating as it was nearly … I don't know, sexual? Erotic? But whatever works, right? I mean, you use what gifts you're given. The men, they end up being naturally stronger. Naturally taller. Naturally heavier. Sally? She's got a whole lot of skill and a whole lot of legs. If that means she uses everything she's got then so be it. Whatever gets the win. I think we can all assume that Lester's hardly going to fall head over heels for Sally like some curtain jerker would (How are you doing Branden?), but even if it's one second of distraction, it's one second to Sally's advantage. We're on the blank screen for a moment, and then:
5 DAYS
which ends up fading away, and being replaced with a shot of the APW heavyweight title. A tight close-up on the main plate. The gold gleams under a bright light, the sparkle off those four diamonds that frame those four immortal words: World Champion. The camera zooms out from it, and we find the belt resting up on a table, a black clothe thrown underneath it, the belt folded up perfectly so that it stands up and is leaning back ever so slightly; perfect for photos. I guess we're on one of those PR things? Shane zooms out far enough and … yep. There's Sally, sitting all nice and prim and proper on one seat, and across from her, Hannah Storm (APW's very own) sits, listening intently. Oh yeah, Sally is talking. Maybe we should listen to her.
[Sally] … and that's have it got stuck there.
There's a chorus of laughter as Sally finishes up. The camera whips around and there's a hall full of people. Magazine reporters, online bloggers, fans. All sorts of people. Maybe a few thousand. An auditorium full at least. And in the middle, there's a line behind a microphone.
[Hannah] Ok, enough about what happens outside the ring. Sally, you've been accused of a lot of things recently, one of which is that you've turned your backs on your fans. People are wondering what has happened to you to make you turn away from the people who supported you.
[Sally] That's a great question, Hannah. Yes, Level-One is one of the best in the business, but I'll beat him by wanting the win more. By going out there and trying harder. And by being the best megastar that APW has. *Sally sits back, smiles a little uncomfortably. Hannah looks at her a little inquisitively* Not going to cut it? *Sally laughs it off* Ok, yes, I have been branded as, you know, the “bad girl” *Sally quotes with her fingers* recently. But the whole situation is a lot simpler that me having changed or anything. The fact is this: I've not changed myself, ok? I've been like this since I came into the business. Anyone who has known me from before APW will remember that I never backed down from a fight, that I never stopped coming after someone I didn't like like, and that I am aggressive and demanding in the ring. Now, for the first few months at APW, I don't know – I guess people were looking past me and whatnot. They ignored all the bad and just focused on the good. They had no one to hold their hopes and dreams and all that. So they threw them at me.
Now, sure, I was happy to carry the fans along for a while. But when I got this *Sally gestures to the table, with the belt on it* things got a bit more real. I mean, I wasn't wrestling to make people happy, I was wrestling to make myself the champion that that belt symbolizes. If the fans didn't like that I stopped doing everything they did, then so be it. I'm the champion. I'm the best that APW has. I'm the person that they're still paying to see – love me or hate me. I'm now indifferent to what the fans want. I don't hate them for booing me. I just get a little annoyed that they come, demanding the best matches, demanding the best performances, demanding the best wrestlers … and I give them all that. And then they have the audacity to boo me? Maybe that's why, you know, I stopped really worrying about what they wanted and started to focus on how to make myself the best champion that APW has.
[Hannah] Well, you brought up being a champion. What would you say you've brought to APW since becoming champion?
Sally sits forward in her chair, eager to answer this one. She rubs her hands together, looking off as she gathers her thoughts together … then at the APW title … then back to Hannah with look of determination.
[Sally] Well, honestly, I've brought everything to that title. You don't respect a belt – you respect the person behind it. You don't have to face a belt – you have to face the person behind it. That belt is nothing without me. And, truth be told, it would be nothing if there wasn't someone behind it. It only means something, it's only important, it's only revered when the person behind it is something, important, and revered. Whoever wears it dictates what that belt stands for. When I wear it? That belt stands for the best. It stands for the future of APW. It stands for natural talent and born abilities. It literally is the sign of the best megastar in APW. Now, if Lester Only were to be wearing it – to make up an example – it wouldn't stand for any of those things. It would only stand for greed, for the past, and for … I don't know? Being second best? Being second rate? Something like that. Because he's no longer the best in APW. He's broken down. He's useless. He's not half the wrestler that I am. Lester is a throwback from an era in wrestling that everyone is trying so hard to forget. That's why every ran to me when I walked in – I represented something new.
I represented a change to APW for the better. They might not love me for it, but they know that me here as champion makes for a better champion than Lester. I don't go around beating people up. I don't throw a temper tantrum whenever I don't get my way. I don't round up gangs of people to do my fighting, all the while showing off the fact that's I'm a useless, yellow, pathetic little coward! *Sally spits out those last words … which brings her to the fact that maybe she's getting a little worked up. She composes herself, then folds her hands in her lap with a smile* People know that even if they don't like me, when I'm the champion they still like APW. They get the best of both worlds – they can still boo me, but they are bound to get the best matches. Do I care? No, of course not. I go out and I wrestle hard enough to keep my belt. And by doing that, everyone gets to ride the Talfourd coattails, getting all the benefits without having to put in any of the hard yards.
Strangely enough, there's a smattering of applause through the crowd then. It doesn't take over; the audience is still largely wary of clapping her. Especially after she just said that she's not all too fussed about them any more. But, you see, that's the thing. Maybe Sally was idealized. Maybe she was put up on a pedestal. Maybe she was seen through rose-colored lenses. Their only other option was Lester when she walked in. Now she's pushed him aside, people are scrutinizing her more. They look at her harder. And what do they see? Well, maybe it's not what they thought they were cheering. In that instance, maybe they're booing themselves for having been so stupid as they are booing Sally. Now that Sally's on top, and Lester has shown the world that he's no longer the person who can climb back up that mountain called APW, they can go and find someone new to cheer … and it would be about now that CJ Gates would make some sort of appearance. But, as per the deal to do all this, it's Sally and Sally only in attendance, so no worries about attention whores making an appearance!
[Hannah] Well, you brought him up. Level-One. You're been in a heated feud with him for a long time now – nearly since the day you walked in here. Rasslemania almost seems like the cresting of the wave for you both. What have you finally come to think of him now?
[Sally] Lester Only. *Sally lets out a laugh, shakes her head, then stares off into space to gather up all thought wild thoughts she has about him* Here is a wrestler that's both an insult to both the 'A' and the 'W', as well as the 'P' in between. You see, generations of wrestlers devoted their lives to perfecting the business that Lester Only is either ignorant of or indifferent to. And I'm sure when he read this, or figures out how to turn a computer on and log on to APW.com and watch this, that he will oh-so gallantly remind us all that he was part of that generation that perfected this business.. The fact is, that is the grossest miscarriage of truth. For some reason, everyone thinks Lester is about tradition and respect and wrestling. Lester Only, unlike your's truly, is all about one thing: Lester Only. He doesn't care about what happened before, and he doesn't care about what will happen next. He only cares about how to feed his ego, to get another line on the resume, and to get another pay day. That's all. Nothing more, nothing less. He is simple, like that. Which I guess is an obvious weakness that anyone can pray on. He can't let 'the moment' go by. If there's a chance to win a match or to show off to the world with one more move, he's going to show off. Look at last week, with OverDrive. He could have walked out that match as fit as a fiddle. Me? I'd had a match, and a hard one too. I was already worked over. Him? He ref'd it for crying out loud! The hardest thing he had to do was put a shirt on … which, come to think of it, is actually a hard thing for him to do. But regardless, he could have walked away and he'd still be better than me, going into the match. But no, he decided to show off to the world and what? Beat me down. And he could have just as easily left it there, avoided the storm that came afterwords. But no, he had to do that one last “show-stealing” *Sally rolls her eyes as she quotes the words* moment, trying to throw me through the announcer table and being the one left standing at the end of the night.
And what happened? His ass got grassed! He looked like such an idiot when he ended up going through the table as well. That's the great and powerful logic of Lester Only! *Sally puts on a man's voice* “Hmmm, I know what I'll do. I'll put myself into position to go get myself put through a table even with my broken-ass body in a fragile state. I'm so smart, I'm waiting on a call from MENSA!” *Back to normal voice* Please, that's the classic Level-One spot-monkey stuff. And he's just as bad in any match. When it's a choice of doing what's right and what's pathetically amazing, he will go for the pathetic option. Me? I know my limitations. I know where I stand. And I know how to win a match. I don't need to make sure that everyone is thinking about one spot in a match. Because when I win, that's what they're thinking about! They're thinking about that moment – and it's happened more often than not in APW – when my hand is raised, my music plays, the belt is handed to me, and I'm there, in the center of my ring, left to celebrate. I'm not the one in a wrecked heap. I'm not the one whose sorry shoulders got pinned to the ring. I'm not the one who feels the sting of defeat right here. *Sally taps her temple* I'm the winner, and you, Lester, are the loser. *Sally looks to Hannah* So that's what I think of Lester. I think he's nothing more than a glorified monkey pulling tricks for peanuts. Because that's what he's going to get from our match: Peanuts.
Hannah looks down at her clipboard.
[Hannah] Well, before we go to the questions from the audience, we have to know: If Lester were here, what would you say to him?
[Sally] I'd say … *Sally trails off, then casts a glance down to Shane with his camera* … see you in five days, Lester.
And with that, there's a quick cut away. We don't need to hear the fans' questions. We know what they will be: Why did you change? When is the 'real' Sally coming back? Why do you wrestle? Can I have you number. You know, the same things Sally's been asked for the seven years she's been wrestling. The screen holds on the blank, black screen, and then:
4 DAYS
Which fades away for a shot of Sally, back in her hotel room. It's certainly not looking any better than before. But, there she is, in her laptop, laying on her bed. One hand under her chin keeps her head up, the other is furiously typing away. One-handed typing – a skill usually perfected by men. But we digress. She's busy getting caught up on all her emails. Suddenly her eyebrows raise.
[Sally] Hmmm … an email from Lester …
Sally starts to read … and read … and read. Eventually Shane has to edit out how much reading she is doing from the episode. There's a quick cut, and it goes from being the middle of the night to the sun coming up outside the window. Sally blinks a couple of times (her eyes were getting a bit dry – what with all her life being sucked out by reading Lester's email. She nods a serious not, “hmmms” a serious “hmmm”. Then, she gets an idea. She sits up, then presses down the 'control' key … searches … searches … there it is! She presses down the 'f' key as well. A dialog box appears. Sally track over to 'Find' and types in 'Sally' then tracks down to 'Replace with:' and Sally types in 'Lester'. She clicks apply.
[Sally] There, that's better. *She tracks up to the 'Send to:' bar and types in 'Press group', then moves down, types a little blurb about how this is the official press release and the last one was a mistake and sends. Sally looks satisfied, then spins around in her chair to face up with Shane* So, what do we have planned today, Shane?
[Shane] Nothing. You made a point to keep today free. Training day, remember?
[Sally] That's right! Up and at'em man! Let's hit the gym!
Sally jumps off the bed, then races around picking up some clothes as she runs to the bathroom. A slow fade from the hotel room down to the gym, and we find Sally working up a sweat. Not for the first time this week, and certainly not for the last. And now's about the time we get one of those classic training montages. Sally lifting weights. Sally running miles and miles and miles on a treadmill. Sally boxing a punching bag. All that essential wrestling stuff. Then she's wrestling a trainer on some mats, carefully going through the holds and the bars and the submissions. Getting tips on reverses, getting advice on executions. I mean, we shouldn't have to see this to know how great Sally is, but it's helpful to remind ourselves just what sort of work goes into being a world champion. It's not about corrupt and dubious agents, secret government programs, and playing hooky from the actual hard work. No, this is where talent and prestige and skills are built. This is dedication. The dedication required to earn a championship. To win a championship. To deserve a championship. This is what a true APW champion does. It might not be the interesting stuff that the latest blockbuster movie is made of. Nor might it be the most appealing. But the fact remains that if you want to climb to the top and stay there, these are the hard yards that you have to put in.
We finally fade to a shot of Sally sucking down deep breaths, a water bottle in hand and her headphones in. She's worked up quite the sweat … which is completely absorbed by the new microfiber material that Happy Ending clothing comes it AND leaves no sweat stains! Quick! Go to APW.com to get yourself the latest in trendy fashion gear! Sally finds Shane taking her in with the camera, watching as she comes down from her training high. Yes, this is her addiction, her need, her drug. Training, wrestling, winning. This is what she can't get enough of. It's what drives her to success, what drives her to the top. This is what keeps her separate from the crowd. She swore she wasn't going to be another person that just ran with the regular crowd a long time ago. And, since coming to APW, that's what she's proved to do every week. She's stood out, She's defied the critics. She's been the one to watch. And, come the end of Rasslemania, she's going to be the one to watch all over again. The centerer of everyone's attention. Hands raised in victory. APW title back around her waist.
[Sally] See you in four days, Lester.
And that's where we fade out. A hold on a blank screen then:
3 DAYS
which fades away to a shot of Sally, again on her laptop. Though this time she's actually out of her hotel room. She's taken a risk and gone public. Covered up by that same black coat from a few days earlier, a pair of huge sunglasses that hide half her face (the latest from Dior, of course), she's hunched over a table in a … Starbucks? Uh, once a Seattle girl, always a Seattle girl. She has a coffee in hand as she intently reads what the press fall-out from Lester's email is. She shakes her head, and the mumbles to herself.
[Shane] What was that?
[Sally] This headline: 'Level-One to [Sally] You're no different than me.' Lester. If I became you, you tried to become me. But you failed at that! You couldn't even get that right! *Sally looks around, exasperated* Where do these idiots *Sally taps her screen* get off writing this crap? And why are they listening to him?
[Shane] I assume you're trying to say that you are different.
[Sally] Well, no. *Sally pauses … thinks* Well, yes, we are. *Stops, thinks again* I don't know. I mean, it's more complicated.
[Shane] What do you mean?
Sally sits back in her seat, takes a sip from her cup (a chai latte, full cream for those wondering). It's still a little hot, so Sally blows across the top to cool it down before she puts it back to rest.
[Sally] I mean I don't really care about the differences between us outside the ring. I don't care what Lester wears, what he says, what he runs around thinking. I care about one thing, when it comes to you, Lester: What you can do in the ring. You? You only care about this belt? *Sally throws a hand toward the belt* Me? I care about beating you. I do get consumed with that thought. I do get focused on it. I do get a bit determined over it. And you know what? It's a hell of a lot better than getting distracted by shoddy agents, freaking fight clubs, and whatever else you've been up to. I mean, fun and games might be … *Sally goes to speak, realises she's in a verbal corner, and just goes with it* … fun and games, but when it comes to game time, what on Earth is sitting around with your promo guy going to get you? You're the challenger here, buddy. Why aren't you training with every … single … moment that you're awake? I know how good I am. Far out, YOU know how good I am! Why aren't you working for this title? Why aren't you showing the dedication and the drive and the focus that you used to show? If I could play the psychiatrist for the moment this time, it's one of two reasons.
The first is that you're ego has become so inflated, so big, so consuming that you somehow think you're entitled to the championship. Because you deserve it, you wouldn't possibly have to train, right? The world will correct itself. Fate will intervene. Everything that is meant to be will be. And you will win the belt, right? So it doesn't matter if you train … or condition yourself … or even try, right? You will win that belt by not even having to lift a finger in effort. That's been the Level-One philosophy since I've been here. You and your 'ordained right' to do what you want, to say what you want, to be what you want. And then when someone else dares to challenge you, to say that “Well, actually, I want to be myself” you have the hypocrisy to call me out on it? It just reinforces that whole 'entitlement'. I'm surprised you're not twig-thin, because it's got to be hard getting food past that silver spoon in your mouth. *Sally holds up her hand to the camera, turning away from it* And please, spare the sob story about how your father hit you, your mother didn't love you, and you've been fighting oh-so hard your whole life. No one wants to hear that. And they don't want to hear about how you're entitled to anything, especially when you threw it all away.
The only other reason that you might not be putting your all into your prep this week is because the result is, indeed, already a foregone conclusion. You know you stand no chance. You know that no matter how hard you train, how long you train for, what you do to train, it won't matter. Because you won't get to the levels that you need to to beat me. You know that you're broken down, that you're not as good as you used to be, that you're a second-tier talent now. And when you have to face a top-tier talent? You can't muster up what it takes to win. So you've accepted that. You've gone through your however many stages of grief, and now you've come to acceptance. You've accepted just how good I am like each and every one of the fans have realized it. And you're about to accept – just like all these fans are about to accept – that Sally Talfourd hasn't change. I haven't changed because I'm still twice as dangerous, twice as intense, and twice as talented than you've ever been, Lester. But when I'm free off all these expectations, hopes, and dreams? I can do what I want now, when I want to, and how I want to. And you have no idea what happens then. You haven't had the pleasure of a match since this supposed “change” has happened, so you have no idea what you're in for.
[Shane] You don't think he'll be able to, you know, adapt to you?
[Sally] There's no time for that in a match like this. This is the main event of the year. There's no time to adapt or develop or practice when that bell rings. This is make or break time. And I intend to break Lester. And while I'm the best wrestler that he will match up with, I don't have to rely on that and that only to get the job done. Anything is going in this match. No disqualifications. It's not my preference, but it's helping me more than it's helping him. Any advantage he thought he had simply by being a man. A chair doesn't care how much you can bench-press when it slams into your head! *Sally cracks a rather sinister smile* Weapons don't discriminate: young or old, broken or fit, man or woman. They don't care who you are, they will ruin you. And I'm sure there are a few surprises under the ring. The even better thing, though, is that APW has hardly seen me outside of a pure wrestling match. And it's that stuff that's going to be more deadly. You see, I don't have to worry about counts for my holds. I don't have to worry about some silly five-second count. I can put you in pain, Lester, and have no reason to break it.
I don't have to listen to the ref or the crowds or even you. I don't have to listen to anyone expect the most important person in that ring: Me. If I think you're overdue for, you know, the COTS, then I'm going to get you in it. And if that means getting leverage from the ropes, then so be it. I don't have to listen to the zebra in the ring. If I want to break you arm, and it's going to take three minutes in a fujiwara, then I'm putting you in it and I'm holding you there until I hear that snap. If the only way to keep you down is to snap that ankle, tear those muscles and those tendons from the bone, and put you out of my ring for six months, I'm locking on that ankle lock and I'm going to turn it like it was a bottle cap! *Sally sits back again, that creepy smile still there* If you think no DQ means that the rules are the only thing being thrown out the window, then you're sorely mistaken. So sorely mistaken.
[Shane] That's … uhhh … pretty aggressive Sally.
[Sally] We're past the pleasantries stage, Shane. He doesn't care much fro me, and I don't care much for him. Isn't that right Lester? We're beyond saying how great we are, and now we're talking about how we can destroy one-another. I wish I didn't have to … sort of. I wish I didn't have to embarrass you in front of the wrestling world once more. I mean, it drags me down as much as it drags you down. It's just getting to the point where it's sad. You're the TV show I want to change the channel on. Even if I was in your match I wouldn't blame people for turning you off. We know your Mexican wrestling name would be Generic Wrestler #43 – and they only gave you #43 because 1 to 42 were all reasonably interesting numbers! There's nothing amazing about you anymore. In fact, there hasn't been for a while now. I came in to APW and Bryan Payne and Pence Weatherlight had done an amazing job on your body. Your neck was ruined a year ago. So you know what? I don't have to target there. My job is already done when it comes to your neck. I can break arm, take out your leg, dislocate a shoulder … then go onto your neck with a COTS and it will be like your neck over for 3 days! And that's where the beauty of the no DQ match come into play. This should all be surprising to you because you don't know who I am now. Because you don't know what I'm like any more. Because anything you thought you knew about [i[me is out the window too. Common sense and reason is gone along with the rules! If I have to break you, Lester, believe me when I say this …[/color]
Sally leans forward, taking off her sunglasses and staring into the camera. The intensity and the focus and the determination going straight to Lester.
[Sally] I will break you. See you in three days, Lester.
Quick cut to a blank black screen, and then:
2 DAYS
And we come in on a shot of what looks to be a very rich and swank boardroom. There's a long table down the middle of the room with all sorts of suited men and women sitting along the sides. Up on the wall, there is something hidden behind a curtain. There's an empty chair at the head of the table, but not for too long, as lovely Sally Talfourd makes her way to the seat. She gives a respectful nod to the people gathered.
[Sally] Ladies and gentlemen, thanks for getting here at short notice. I've called a meeting here for our new business. Now, as you know, I've been interested in entering the marketing industry for a while now … for no real reason. *She shoots a look at Shane, expecting him to say nothing about being dropped as the star of a few advertising campaigns* This is the first meeting for my business: Talfourd Industries: Today's Solutions. Now, *Sally stands up from the table, then goes over to a curtain hanging from the wall* the moment we've all been waiting for: The unveiling of our new corporate logo. Shane, drum-roll!
Sally looks at Shane, who looks around, shrugs, then starts tapping on the table. Satisfied, Sally takes hold of the gold cord hanging at the side and pulls. The curtain comes back and we have a great blue sign with four white letters: T.I.T.S. Sally goes to turn back and speak to the board, then stops herself. She turns back to the sign and gives it a long “Hmmm ...” before turning back to everyone, an earnest and innocent look on her face. Shane is trying his best not to laugh.
[Shane] That sign says …
[Sally] Talfourd Industries! That is correct, Shane! *Sally glares at Shane, cutting him off before anything can be said. Though, what really needs to be said?* Yeah. Talfourd Industries. And what we're looking at doing is bring great … big … first-class solutions to all those people out there. *Sally sits back down, all serious still* Now, what I want to know is how we're going to get out there and spread the word about T.I. … Talfourd Industries. The thing is, we need to re-brand me. People are against me, against what I've become. Well, we just need to convince then that they actually do like me. So, what can we do?
[Suit 1] What about going into a soup kitchen?
[Sally] I hate soup.
[Suit 1] I mean to help the homeless. It would add a soft edge to you. People like celebrities who do the whole charity thing.
[Sally] What? And feed them? Ew, no. Who else?
[Suit 2] What about some charity appearances that don't involve homeless people?
[Sally] This match might as well be a charity appearance. I mean, Level-One is getting a whole bunch of money for doing nothing! That sounds like charity to me.
[Suit 3] Maybe some new photo shoots? Change up your public appearance to appeal to target audiences?
[Sally] This is the right track. I like this.
[Suit 4] How about a make-over post-Rasslemania so that everyone can get on your winning bandwagon?
[Sally] That's even better!
[Suit 5] What about you wrestle some no-hoper immediately after Rasslemania so that you look pretty awesome. You just go through a huge main event, with weapons and all sorts of blood, and then you back up a few days later and beat a man that we market as the greatest indy star in the US?
[Sally] Love it! Go, get to work on these ideas now! I want a plan on my desk by the end of our day. And don't be afraid to get the T.I.T.S. name out there guys. I want T.I.T.S. to be on the end of everyone's tongue. I want people thinking of Sally Talfourd when they think of T.I.T.S. … *Everyone starts to file out of the boardroom, leaving just Sally and Shane. She turns to him and the trusty camera* How did I not see that? T.I.T.S.? Really?
[Shane] I think it's a goo marketing campaign. I think the average wrestling fan thinks about your company as much as wrestling already!
[Sally] Whatever. I'm not getting distracted. We have a match in a couple of days. It's all getting nearer and it's all getting … more calm. I'm not nervous, you know? I can't imagine that anyone else on the card is like that though. There's a lot of pressure on them all to try and overshadow me and my match.
[Shane] You don't think any of them stand to have a better performance?
[Sally] Of course not! I mean … I'm not in any of the matches, so how can they be any good? I'm the star of Rasslemania. I'm what people are tuning in to watch. I'm what people are paying to see. I'm who the pay per view was made for! I tell you what *Sally swings around on her chair, hops out of it, and starts to walk toward Shane* If I retain my belt, I'll challenge everyone on the card to a match each! Just to prove that I was the star on this show. Biggs, Ruckus, that IWC guy ... even Jeff! I'll take anyone on because I know I'm the best that APW has, and a main event win for this title only seals that idea in everyone's head. And besides, even with Level-One's busted butt in my match, I will still outperform all these jokers that come before me ...
[Shane] You know, you've made a bit of a point about Level-One's body. What makes yours any better? I mean ...
[Sally] Me? I'm a young and fresh … something. I've got nothing hanging over my head as I walk into our match except the couple of bruises he gave me on OverDrive. But, the ironic thing is that he gave the exact same treatment to himself too! He's got what I've got and then a whole lot more … and herpes. Because you just can't get rid of that. But we'll put that aside for now and think about the huge effort you, Lester, have to put out to bring this wonderful body down to your own level. The skill and the tenacity and the fuel that you will need for your fire to force you aching, in pain, broken body to go the distance with me? Oh sure, I'm not perfect, straight out of the factory. But I'm in a heck of a lot better shape than you! So what you need to do to wear me down? To break me? You don't have that in you, Lester. Not any more. And even if you do, I have more. I have more drive. I have more passion. I have more fire.
[Shane] How bad shape do you think he is in?
[Sally] When we have a little video of all our dearly departed, you know the regular obits bit, could someone please throw up a picture of Level-One's career? No! I've got it: Lester is in such a bad shape that I'm sure there's a government program that APW is eligible for having him employed. Cash for Clunkers, maybe? Is that still going? Because you're our resident clunker – that old, run down, no good car that really needs to head to the scrap yard now that we've got a brand new, more efficient, faster car. *Sally even laughs at that one, then comes to sit down in the chair besides Shane* No, in all seriousness I know he's still dangerous and deadly. I know that he's still capable of more than the rest of the roster. Even at fifty percent, he's still one hundred percent better than everyone … except me. And it's those weaknesses that he brings to the rings that I need to exploit. If I don't, then I'm fighting a battle that is a lot harder than it needs to be. And the fans want to see the former, not the latter. They want to see someone come in, strategize, and take their opponent apart piece by piece.
[Shane] Are you ready for how the fans are going to treat you?
[Sally] Of course. I mean, it might be a bit of a shock, but at the end of the night, I'm the one in the ring. I'm the one they paid to see. If I could address the fans directly though, I'd say this to them: I promise you all this: You will hate me, you will boo me, you will loathe me all the more by the end of our match when I retain my belt. But you know what else? You'll watch me even more. You'll pay attention to me. You'll flock to see me. You might not love me any more, but I know you're still going to be there, at my matches, watching my show, and waiting. Waiting for me to lose. To mess up. To get beat for my belt. I promise you all that, in the end, nothings going to change expect I'll have the greatest win of my career under my belt.
Sally trails off, dreaming of that great win that she's working so hard for. The cap of what has – to now – been an impeccable career. Sure, it's not perfect, but it was never going to be. A woman, in a man's business? Starting so young? Working from the bottom up? It was never going to be the sort of track record that others have had. But it's the milestones that count – and APW has brought a lot of them. Tournament wins, award recognitions, title belts. And the greatest milestone of all: conquering Level-One. Being one of the few who has a winning record against the legend in this business. Well, now it's time for a new legend to work their way into the minds of the wrestling world. Rasslemania is the chance to cement that spot in the wrestling world; to make sure that Sally's name is synonymous with success. Sally comes back to reality, swings around in her seat, and drills a smile at the camera.
[Sally] See you in two days, Lester.
And, with that, we fade out to come into the final 48 hours before show day. As we expect …
2 DAYS
appears on the screen, before fading out to Sally Talfourd back where we started: out the front of the California Memorial Stadium. The weather, again, is a perfect Spring day. Sally stares across the street to the stadium as it itself looms there, dominating the shot. It's there that the the culmination of one of the most intense, fueled, aggressive feud that APW has ever seen see will come to a head. Rasslemania. Sally Talfourd. Level-One. The APW World Heavyweight Title up for grabs … see, wouldn't it be awesome if there were storm clouds coming?
[Sally] So this is it. One day away from what is really a career defining match. I'd like to say that it's all a big question mark, but we know what will happen. Lester and I will both come out hard and furious. We will both come out looking to win. We will start in a wrestling match and end in complete and bloodied chaos. Then, when the blood has stopped flowing and the dust has settled, I will walk out the winner. I will walk out with my belt. I will be the APW champion still.
Sally turns to look at the camera with a grim smile. She knows what's waiting for her. A match bigger than any she's been in. On a stage more important than any she's been on. At a pay per view bigger than any she's seen before.
[Sally] I'll win my match … so long as I get here on time.
[Shane] You got Frank here again?
[Sally] Yep.
Sally turns back to the camera.
[Sally] Even with all the trash talk, Lester, I'm glad I'm here with you. Because there's no other cherished APW megastar that I'd rather beat than you to make sure that I become part of the history here. APW is my home now. APW is my place. I am APW these days. As long as I have my title, as long as I main event the shows, as long as I can beat anyone that they throw in front of me, I will be APW. Your time is passed. You're time is ended. Your time was yesterday. I am tomorrow. You don't need to be a genius to see that. You don't need to be, you know, as intelligent as your's truly *Sally puts a modest and embarrassed hand on her chest, as if someone had just called her intelligent … which isn't likely to happen any time soon* to realize that I'm not just the best that APW has, but I'm the most important thing to APW. APW needs me now that Lester has been proven to be … well, nothing more than your average wrestler. Nothing more than a guy who used to have “it” then lost “it” so, so, so long ago. And you certainly don't need to be a super-genius to see that, that's for sure.
And the fact that you deny all this – that APW needs me and that you're well passed it – shows just one thing: You really have lost sight of what's reality these days. So save your new-age mumbo-jumbo psycho-babble for someone else, Lester. Let's face the reality of the situation, right now. I'm not like you. If I was, there would be no need for this match, because we'd both just be fighting for the title of second best. I mean, that would be just like match where third and fourth place teams play off to see who gets the participation award. No one gives a crap about that match! *Sally runs a hand through her hair, threading a few strands behind her ears* You think I've become you? Let me tell you one important difference between you at your worst and me at my very best right now: I still care. Now I know what you're going to say: I only care about myself. The fact of the matter is this: I care about a lot more. I care enough to front for our match because I don't want APW to turn into another damned Level-One World! I care enough to keep on coming out here and cutting the truth for the world to see because I'm worried what kind of fans we have that are so stupid enough to stop booing you and start booing me! I care enough to continue to prove to everyone that you are nothing but a fraud in this business.
No, in all honestly, I never turned into you. I didn't evolve or change or become you. The fact is I'm the same woman who walked through the door. Only now? Now I have to be like this. I've always had “this” inside of me. I've always had “this” waiting to come out. I've always had “this” clawing at me. I just never needed to, you know, open the box. I never needed to let “this” out because, well, it never was hard to get to the top. I mean, did you see what I had to do to get there? I won my first pay per view match and I captured the attention of everyone. Then I win a tournament and everyone was enamored with me! They couldn't stop talking about me. They loved me! And then what happened? I lost to you. I got pinned fair and square. You were, in fact, the better man … well, the only man … that night. But what happened? The fans, they loved me even more! My ratings, my views, my merch sales? They all went through the roof.
Then, when I won the belt from you? When I beat you? When I became APW World Heavyweight? I was God to these people. I was everything that they wanted. Everything that they dreamed about. Everything that they had prayed for. It didn't matter that I had lost to you a pay per view before. It didn't matter that I was as green to APW as a leaf in Spring. It didn't matter that these people had hitched their wagon to me before I actually had a chance to stop … catch my breath … and show off the person I really am. No, they jumped on me in a snap. *Sally clicks her fingers* Now they've got buyers' remorse. They are realizing that hey, I might not just be the start of the second coming. And you know what? I actually got sick and tired of everyone thinking that. I got sick and tired of being the poster-child for, well, everything that's great and good and prim and proper! It was like I was being strangled! I was being stopped by all these expectations. And you know what? If I had kept up with them all, I'd have been about as good … ad good … as good as you, Lester. I'd have been second best. I'd have lost my title a lot earlier. I'd have been a loser. Now though?
I am in the best position to win. Because no one has faith in me. No one believes in me. No one has expectations in me. I don't have to act in any sort of way. I don't have to wrestle any way. And I don't have to do what anyone else wants me to. I just have to please one person: Me. And trust me when I say that I know exactly what I want. I know all the buttons to push and the spots to .. touch. I know how to walk out of that ring completely and utterly satisfied. Out of breath. Covered in sweat. Needing a cigarette. But still knowing that I was the best walking in and I am the best walking out. I will go in with that belt, and I'm walking out with that belt, no matter what you find to throw at me. I know your game. You're old. You're injured. You're not even near to your prime. You are an old horse trying to keep up with the thoroughbred that's just come off the farm and can walk around the track faster than you can run it. Face it, Lester, you're past it. You're not even half as good as I am these days. Maybe if we were matching up, I don't know, two years ago? Three? I'd know that I wasn't better than you. But, you know, like you said: The past doesn't count.
Oh but you're wrong there, Lester, about yet another thing: The past does count. I've been studying you for the past year. And, having studied you for that long, I have learned me a few things. Like how you move, what you do, how you try to win. The normal stuff. But do you want to know what the most important thing was that I learned? You cover up your fears with all sorts of hot air and talk and verbal rants. And, going by the level of vitriol you've spewed my way with your silly little email, you're absolutely petrified of our match. You must be absolutely frightened out of your wits going by what you had to say about me. But, it's pretty obvious why you're scared. Not scared or me, but rather of our match. Because you have so much left to lose. That's right, you still have a whole lot that you can still lose. *Sally holds up a hand to silence Lester who is probably yelling at his monitor already* Oh sure, you might not have a title, but that's the thing: When you don't have a title on the line, you're staking everything you thought you would never have to risk.
In our match, you stand to lose that legendary status that you oh-so covet. That chance to stand head and shoulders above everyone. That soapbox from which you oh-so frequently lecture us all about the rights and the wrongs of this great business of ours. You loose that right to call yourself a legend when you get beat by someone debuting at Rasslemania against you. Everything your career has built you up to be – untouchable, unstoppable, unbeatable – will be nothing after I beat you. That's a lot at stake right there. But there's more … there's always more. When you lose here, that's what everyone remembers. No one remembers all your other wins. No one remembers your other Rasslemania moments. No one remembers what successes you had at the night of nights. They will forever remember the loss you suffered against me. It's unfortunate … I guess, but it's necessary. Because history in this business only remembers the people who can climb to the top and can stay there. When you lose these two things – your status and your history – then you, Lester, officially having nothing at all. You have no championship. You have no career. You have no past, no present and no future. You have nothing. And that's not a place you can rebuild it all from. No no no, you can't go anywhere. You officially become the bottom and the only thing left for you is a disgraced exit from my business.
I'm sure you're thinking that I'm probably scared about what lays before us. Honestly though, no I'm not. I'd be scared if I knew I was going to struggle to win. I'd say all sorts of things to try and cover it up: that my opponent was just talks bullshit, that she is a twit, that she is ego-driven. I'd say just about anything to try and distract people from the fact that I have no plan, no tactic, no approach to the biggest match of my career. I'd rant and rave, wave my arms about *Which she does* and throw up all kinds of distractions – like making fun of my opponent and what she might do to pass the time – rather than actually, you know, do something about my situation. *Sally takes a deep breath, calming herself down from getting too heated* But I don't do any of this. I'm not scared of our match. I'm not scared of what awaits us at the end because I know what's going to happen. I focus on what's important: Our match, your skills, my talent. I don't get overly distracted with all sorts of life crap. I take a few moments from training and working and doing what I do best every now and then … and then I'm straight back into it.
Because that's what I do best: I wrestle. I might not talk the best, act the best, pretend the best. But I certainly do wrestle the best. My wrestling is poetry. It's an artwork. You, and yours? You don't even try to make your matches anything more than disorganized chaos. You are like a toddler who gets his fingers into the paint pots and goes crazy – not realizing he's no longer finger-painting the paper but has moved on to the carpet and the walls. You, in the ring Lester, is just a means to an end. The means is assaulting your opponent, and the end is getting what you want. And it might have worked against those Beautiful Disaster dropkicks a couple weeks ago, and against Ryan Ruckus when he was most likely as high as a kite, but it won't be working against me. Because I've learned you Lester. I've studied you, I've tracked you, I've seen your evo … well, devolution in the ring over the past year.
Sally stops to turn around to face the stadium once more. She buries her hands in her pockets again. She starts to walk back to the curb of the street to get a little closer. Closer to that fateful match … sort of. Anyway, she continues to talk, not so much at the camera any more, but just to whoever will listen to her at this point.
[Sally] Honestly, if you stopped thinking about yourself and started thinking about what's around you, you'd realize that our match at Rasslemania is going to be something to see. It's going to be a match for the books. Sure, you're going to lose, but at least one of us will get a boost from it. Ill ride a huge wave of success after this. APW won't have a choice but to recognize me as being just that good. It won't matter though, because whether they want to acknowledge it or not, I know how important I am. I know that everyone should love me. I don't need the silly little applause or the pat on the back to tell me that I matte. Because I know that if I'm not here, APW has a handful of half-talented wrestlers and two handfuls of excuses for wrestlers. Without me, APW is a pit of despair and tragedy and … it just sucks, ok? I can't think of better words than that. *Sally look to the side of the shot, to Shane* It's been a long week, don't judge.
[Shane] My name is not judge.
Bonus points for an Arrested Development reference? Anyway, Sally fronts up to the camera. To bring all this to a head.
[Sally] Lester, you might be a bit surprised to hear that I read that email a bit more thoroughly after the first time. And it was funny, you said something that actually struck a cord in me. You said that I was going to Hell. I'm going to Hell? Let me tell you something, Lester. I'm in Hell already. I've been in Hell ever since I came here. This place is Hell, and you are the Satan himself. Everywhere I turned since I walked through the doors here, I saw the tortured souls, the damned people, the burning brimstone. I saw the fans being tortured by your your command. I saw the other talent here damned to have to serve at the wills of you. And everywhere I looked, I saw the fire that comes with intense rage, burning on its own self-hatred. I knew I wanted to put it out and save APW. And I did, but no one has seen what I have done for them. If you get my belt back, then all my work will be undone. Everything I did will be for nothing. And I'm not allowing that to happen.
I'm not letting you take back control. The fans might hate me now, but the will soon appreciate the work I do for them. And after that, after they do realize it, then if they still want to hate me, so be it. But I am the same woman who walked into APW. I'm the same woman walking into Rasslemania as I was walking into Mayhem. Walking into OverDrive. I am the same wrestler – more skilled, more talented – that beat you on the past two big occasions, Lester. And nothing's changed except the rules for our match. Now that we're free to do what we like? Things have got a whole lot more difficult for you. So come Rasslemania, bring everything you have to our match. I deserve it, at the least. I deserve to get one last great match out of you. Despite the fact that you're no longer capable of those sorts of feats. Despite that fact that this match is a foregone conclusion. Despite the fact that you don't deserve it. Bring your everything, and so will I. Bring every technical tactic and wild weapon idea, and I will too. Then we'll finally show the world who is truly better. We'll show the world who is truly the APW megastar that deserves all the attention. We'll show the world who really deserves the title of APW World Heavyweight Champion.
I'll see you soon, Lester.
Sally turns from the camera to look back at the stadium. The end is very apropos. There doesn't need to be a 'goodbye' bigger than that. That's all that matters right now. The match. APW, the fans, the world? They are all looking at this match. They want to know who will win. They want to know who will be champion. They want to know who will finally be labeled as the best. And, honestly, so too do these two. Maybe one more than the other – as it's her first Rasslemania, and that really is a big thing – but no one can say that they aren't interested in how this match is going to turn out. Sally takes a deep breath and lets out a long, steady breath. No shakes or nerves. She looks as calm as we've see her. Focused. Determined. This is the Sally Talfourd that wins the big matches. The Sally that steps up to make it count. The Sally that makes sure she takes it all to the ring, and then walks out champion at the end of the night. The scene fades out on Sally looking at, well, what lays ahead of her. There's a pause and then
"Sally Talfourd"
is handwritten across the screen, in purple. Before it fades out and the episode comes to a close.
