==========
Closing The Book
==========
I could start by thanking the fans, my loved ones, and those
who have supported me along the way…
…I could but I won’t.
It’s too damned cheesy and overdone.
After what I went through at Darkness Within, having competed twice in
one night and winning both times, I think I’m entitled to gloat for just a
little bit. After all, I went through a
tag team match against the Lone Star Outlaws but that was after enduring hell,
a hell on earth called Dakota’s Ball, a hell on earth with Brandy Daniele,
Dakota Smith, and Laurel Anne Hardy.
And I came out on top with the FWA Xtreme Championship
strapped to my waist. I am the
undisputed FWA Xtreme Champion.
Damn it feels good to finally be able to say that.
Blood was shed that night, my blood and the blood of my
opponents stained the canvas and the cage.
We left it all in the ring, just as warriors should.
I closed the book on the controversy surrounding the FWA
Xtreme Title. I settled it, once and for
all, by showing the world that I was the rightful champion all along, that I am
exactly what I said was all along…the new face of FWA’s hardcore division, the
new face of the FWA Xtreme Championship.
Ah but with the closing of one book means that we have to
start an entirely new story and this story will be about my reign atop the division,
a reign that will be talked about for ages to come. Unlike the previous holder of this title I
will not run. Unlike the previous holder
of this title I will not hide in fear when presented with a challenge.
Unlike my predecessor, I will not leave this division high
and dry. I will represent it with honor
and dignity. That is what the reign of
Jessica Lasiewicz will be about and it all starts on Mayhem with Scott Wilson.
You are a self-styled Last King but the problem with your
claim to kingship is that your reign has yet to begin. Every single time you tried to gain a notable
win the opportunity blew up in your face, leaving you humiliated, reduced to
making excuses for your failures.
This is yet another chance to gain a notable win,
Scotty. And it may be your very last
opportunity. More and more people are
seeing you for what you truly are. Not a
king but a lowly jester in Dante’s court, for you are a joke. The laughing stock of FWA.
But the violence I will unleash upon you on Mayhem will be
anything but funny. It will not be a
joke. It will be deadly serious. Or maybe it will just be plain deadly.
Come and place ya bets…
==========
Reign of Terror
==========
“Welcome to Paris…”
The beautiful American of Polish descent, the young lady
some call Lady Gambit, others call Morning Star, but who was born Jessica Corey
Lasiewicz, is walking down what appears to be a dirty, rocky road; a snapshot back
in time to the 18th century.
This is clearly not modern day Paris that Jessica is referring to. Her attire matches her surroundings. The young lady is wearing 18th
century style long flowing dress that French royalty might wear. Her naturally black hair is dyed red and she
has the FWA Xtreme Championship draped over her right shoulder. The steps she takes speaks of elegance, the
gait makes a statement of royalty. She
is no longer channeling her famous father, known for his dark side tendencies
as The Morning Star. On this day at
least she is channeling her aunt, Lady Magdalena Évelyne Lasiewicz.
“Ok, so this may not
be modern day Paris, France, but it looks quite similar don’t you think?”
She stops walking momentarily, turns and points a finger directly at the
camera. “And I do hope you are paying
close attention, Scott Wilson, because this will apply to you.”
Jessica begins walking again. “The people of France were dissatisfied with the way the aristocratic
ruling royals in the palace were treating them.
Instead of helping the people, King Louis XVI just fed them excuse after
excuse after excuse.”
“That kind of reminds
me of you, Scotty. You came into FWA
declaring yourself to be a king, the last king…whatever the fuck that means…and
every time you succeeded in winning a match you pointed to it as evidence that
your claim was truth. And yet every single
time you lost you came up with a convenient excuse as to why that shouldn’t
evidence that you were full of shit.”
“I didn’t get pinned,
the other guy did.”
“I didn’t lose, my
partner lost.”
“I lost by disqualification,
so that really doesn’t count.”
“I could go on and on
but I only have so much time and I have a point to make. Now where was I?” She stops walking and
thinks for a moment. Finally she snaps
her fingers as a look of realization comes across her face. “Oh yes, that’s right! French Revolution…”
Jessica continues walking. “The civil unrest in France grew stronger and stronger. Louis and Marie tried to flee France, fearing
for their safety and well being, but it didn’t work out too well for them. They were recognized, arrested, and sent back
to France.”
Lady Gambit comes to a series of steps that leads up to a
wooden platform. The beautiful woman
ascends the steps, taking great cares not to step on the hem of her skirt as
she does so. Jessica steps up onto the
platform and then sits down on the wood bench that attaches to a large guillotine.
“Simply having them
arrested wasn’t enough for some of the hardliners. They wanted to see the king dead. They wanted him out of the picture,
permanently.” She pats the deadly execution device. “And they wanted to see it done via this device, a guillotine.”
“There was a period of
great upheaval when the monarchy had been overthrown in France and that period
was known as The Reign of Terror. Louis
XVI and Marie Antoinette were executed and many more would follow under the
terror. Nobility and commoners,
intellectuals, politicians and prostitutes, all were liable to be executed on
little or no grounds.”
The FWA Xtreme Champion looks up at the blade and laughs. “They called her Madame Guillotine or The
National Razor.”
“If you really want to
be a king, Scotty, then you need to know what you are asking for. Being king isn’t all fun and games. A lot of duties and responsibilities come
with it and quite honestly you have yet to prove that you are up to the
task. You are proving to be yet another
Louis XVI. You are proving to be a smug,
arrogant, condescending little bitch who does nothing but make excuses when he
fails. And if you continue down that
road then you will suffer the same fate as Louis.”
She grins nastily. “It’s
already beginning. You can see the
writing on the walls, can’t you? People
are growing weary of your excuses, tiring of your games. People are bored with you in general. A wrestling ring is supposed to be a place of
honor. It is supposed to be where two
warriors clash, leaving it all out there, leaving their blood and their sweat
and their tears, with the best coming out on top. And you are disgracing it by claiming to be a
king out of the ring and in the ring acting like a spoiled little bitch. Those were the crimes of Louis XVI. His kingdom, and his head, was taken from him
because of his actions, his acting like a spoiled little bitch.”
The young Lasiewicz nods her head. “I love history, I love it because a meticulous study of history will
show that history does indeed repeat itself, on large scales and on smaller
scales. In this sense, Scotty, you are
repeating the mistakes of Louis XVI your career is destined to meet his fate…”
“…decapitation.”
“But what about
me? How do I fit into all of this?” There
is a pause as a sinister grin forms upon her face. “Haven’t you guessed yet, Scotty?
I am who I always have been; The Morning Star.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “Did you pay attention to what I did to Brandy Daniele, Dakota Dark,
and Laurel Anne Hardy at Darkness Within?
They met The Morning Star and they were left lying broken and bloody
heaps. They stared into the red eyes of
the devil herself and they were incinerated.
That cage, that Dakota’s Ball, became Hell and The Morning Star tortured
them like they’ve never been tortured before.”
“As a result, I have
this,” she taps her FWA Xtreme Championship belt “the FWA Xtreme Championship.
And now you, Scotty, are my first challenger since winning the gold.”
She laughs quietly. “You
should really count your blessings, Scotty.
Your own hero whose dick you suck nightly, Dante, said it best himself;
some people don’t get any of the title shots they deserve and yet you got two
back to back title shots. You fucked up
your shot at the Intercontinental title and now you think you can make a go at
the Xtreme title?”
Jessica shakes her head. “You’re
wrong. Do not delude yourself into
thinking you can win because you cannot win.
Winning should not even be a goal here for you. Your goal should be survival. If you survive against me then you can count
your blessings.”
“But you’re not going
to survive against me. By winning the
FWA Xtreme Championship I unleashed a brand new Reign of Terror upon FWA, a
reign that will be guided by the red eyed monster.”
“I fought in Dakota’s
Ball and then went on to win a second straight time that night against The Lone
Star Outlaws and you think I’m going to sweat a whiny little bastard like you
who does nothing but make excuses for his own pathetic little failure of a
professional career?”
“And if you don’t
believe me, ask my mother.” She nods her head. “Yeah, you know, your new partner and friend? Angelica Jones knows the truth, though she
may not tell it to your face. She knows
that inside that wrestling ring I am an executioner.”
She points a long slender finger at the camera. “I am your executioner.”
“If you want to be a
king you have to deal with the good and the bad. The good, apparently, is that idiots like you
get back to back title shots. Even
though you lost already many times and
have done nothing to prove you’ve earned it. The bad is that now you have to go face to
face with the living embodiment of The Reign of Terror. The bad is that you now have to deal with the
fact that you are staring in the eye the fate, the destiny, that befalls every
failed king.
“Death.”
“You can’t change
fate. You cannot rewrite your destiny,
Scotty. I won’t stand here like Leviticus
did and try to prove that you are not a king.
Even though that nickname IS truly the most ridiculous nickname I have
ever heard in all of professional wrestling…except maybe for Kickass Smurf,
that one MIGHT be more ridiculous than The Last King…in any event, I’ll let you
have that claim if you want it. Because
the fact is, either way, the same four words will be uttered at the end of the
day…”
She holds up four fingers. “…off with his head.”
“…Dobranoc.”
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