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 Black tank top, blue jeans, the now outdated Obituary baseball jersey, and of course, her silver pendant.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...

Riona: 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 the camera.

Riona: 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 show up.

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.

Riona: 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.

Riona: 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.

Riona: 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...