New York, New York... The
Big Apple, and a place that has been destroyed in cinema almost as many times
as Tokyo. In fact, we focus on a small movie theater in the middle of
Manhattan. People are streaming out of it, and one of those people is
Riona Langly. The HiC Superstar, who hasn't been seen in several months
after being brutally beaten down by Jimmy Ultros, is almost smiling as she
leaves the theater. She's wearing pretty normal clothes actually...
Black tank top, blue jeans, the now outdated Obituary baseball jersey, and
of course, her silver pendant.
Riona: Oh... It's you people. Why oh why did you have to show up NOW, when I was just getting out of the movie. I said for you to wait for me at the hotel...
The cameraman sighs and
some muttering is heard...
So, Jack kicked you out of the room because he needed to clean up after my
party last night? Neat freak... Why do I bother with him sometimes.
You're the second camera crew he's kicked out this week too, because
I know he kicked out a HiC crew. I halfway expect them to show up any
minute now. So, you want me to talk about Curtain Call and Ron Barker,
right? Fine, because after seeing his little advert last night, I have
some things to say to him.
Riona stops walking and
begins to speak... some New Yorkers, being the New Yorkers they are, mug behind
Alright, first, let's get the basics out of the way. Yes, I requested
this little match with Ronnie. I did it when my stupid, moronic doctors
said that I only had to deal with a month of recovery time after Jimmy, admittedly,
beat the holy hell out of me with his little golf club. But, we're not
going to talk about him except to say that it was fucking hilarious how he
lost to Ledge. Take that you fucking loser... And remember, I hold you
life in my pocket, and I'll cash it in eventually. But, we'll save the
rest of this little rant on Jimmy for the HiC crew for whenever the fuck they
The NY kids continue to
mug and joke about behind Riona as she speaks...
Riona: Now, Ronnie, yeah, I did request this
match with you. Why? Because, you're just the perfect opponent
for me honestly... That's as simple as it fucking gets. Sure, Riona
vs. Lisa might draw a little more based on the utter and complete distaste
we have for each other, but I wanted to have a good, competitive match for
Curtain Call, and you, Ronnie, just made perfect sense. We wrestle very
similarly, focusing on so-called old school psychology and attacking a single
body part for maximum pain inducement. We're members of opposing forces,
the AWN and The Final Chapter, which would have made for interesting television
had the Acheron World Network not, well, imploded. Finally, and most
importantly, you're a stupid little prick and somebody needs to shut you
up. Saviour of Old School in-fucking-deed... there's only one real
Sayvior of Wrestling and that's Brian Blade.
I don't go around boasting that I'm the best damn technician alive... There's
plenty of people that are better than me really. And you're not one
of those people Ronnie... You ACT like you're tough, you TALK as if you were
the best thing in wrestling since the creation of the title belt, but what
have you done to prove it? You joined a stable... whoopee fucking doo.
The AWN did something for your career... it made you worth even less,
because not only are you a blowhard, but now you've got the stigma of being
around a group of losers that can't even stay together what... a month? But,
even with that, I don't doubt that you're going to give me your all... I just
know that your best isn't going to be enough. You've got all the cards
in your favor too... This will be my first match back from injury... the
first time I've ever been on a show quite like this... my first test of technical
ability. But, even with all those cards in your favor, you're going
to fold. Everyone else has folded...
Riona sighs as she takes
yet another trip down that brutal, thorned road called memory lane.
Your words, they reminded me a lot of the people I faced on the indy circuit
for years before making it to the big time. The people that said that
I had no chance against them... That because I was a woman, I didn't know
a headlock from a figure four. That all I was good for is eye candy.
Sure, your words weren't the same kind of toxic spew that Jimmy let
out, but it reminded me of them all the same. You don't think I'm as
good as you in the ring... Well, that's what they said. That's what
they said and I ended up winning each and every fucking time. I beat
champions in 5 states, only to be denied my prize because I'm a girl. I
destroyed the expectations of a wrestler like myself... People thought that
all girls could do is flip and flop around the ring like Lisa Lorenzo. Well,
I destroyed those expectations of me rather easily. I'm going to do
the same to you in Albuquerque on Sunday Ronnie... I'm going to take those
expectations of me you have and burn them like Ledge did to... well... himself
on the precard. But, like you said, losing needs to have a price, ne?
Riona takes a look back
on the theater that she walked out of and smiles at the marquee stating "The
Day After Tommorow."
Riona: You know, now that I think about it,
our situation isn't all that different than the price humanity paid in that
movie. Sure, this match isn't going to destroy half the world, but it
will destroy yours. I agree to your stipulations Ron... First, that
the match be a mutual wrestling match. That's fine, I was going to suggest
that anyway. We don't need the AWN or TFC interfering in this match.
Hell, I'm leaving Frosty on the road with HiC that weekend. I
don't want a tarnished victory, and I don't think you want to stigma of beating
a woman only because you had help from your friends on your record anyway.
Riona: Secondly, I agree to stop calling myself
the Queen of Old School in the unlikely event of my losing this match. I
never really cared for the moniker too much... It was something that my agent
and HiC management came up with to try and sell my character more, and get
a few more t-shirt sales. If I lose it, I can always go back to being
the less-marketable Prodigy. However, I want to raise the stakes a
little... See, you love being called the Saviour of Old School, right? You
hang onto that title as if it was a lifeboat. And it is for you...
without that name, you'd be just another bald-headed, goateed wrestler in
the world. You're not big like Jack Frost, and you don't have the charisma
or class of Nightmare, no matter how many times you try to look like it with
your robes and your fireside chats. But, I'm digressing from the point
almost as much as Mr. E... The point is, you hang onto that moniker like
it was a life raft, and without it, you'll sink. So, you want me to
put everything on the line... Why don't you? Why don't you put that
moniker on the line... Nothing will make me happier, outside of Jimmy Ultros
being hit by a Nicuruagan Death Squad, to see your face crushed when I'm
announced as "The Saviour of Old School" Riona Langly after my victory.
Finally, you want me to be your bitch... Whatever. So many people have
claimed that in the past that it's not even remotely funny to me anymore.
And each time, I've gone and proved them wrong. Just like I will
on Sunday Ron... you're going to love have me as your mistress. You're
going to feel ever bit of suffering I've felt... every rejection by a company
because they didn't take me serious... every laugh from the fans when I wrestled
instead of showing my tits for them... And you will know what it's like to
be Riona fucking Langly when I'm done with you. Now, if you people don't
mind, I'd like to go back to my hotel room and bitch out my bodyguard...
Riona walks off to get back
to her hotel... and we see her accosted by another camera crew before we Fade... To... Black...