Love & Truth

It wasn’t but just last year that I was SCW United States Champion, I was on top of the world, and then I lost it all.  I hit the skids after losing to Jinn and I didn’t recover, not until The Future Is Now and the beginning of the contendership series.  There, in the series, I beat former world champions Ace Marshall and Christy Matthews.  I made people sit up and take notice.  I reminded people that I was The Crown Jewel of Professional Wrestling.

That performance alone opened the door to many opportunities in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  And as if that weren’t enough, I now have yet another opportunity thrust at me.  The Sisterhood, my mother and aunt, are both leaving SCW.  Which makes me the last Jones standing in SCW.

I always wanted to be my own person, to be the FIRST Marie Jones as opposed to the next Angelica Jones, but carrying the Jones banner all by myself in SCW is very important as well, and I do not intend to let the family down.  Which means it’s time to get serious.

There is a time for fun and games, there is a time for goofing off, and then there is a time for taking things seriously.  In very short order I dispatched Derek Adonis and showed both him and the rest of the SCW universe that I am a force to be taken seriously and, more importantly, that I mean business.  Derek Adonis, and the SCW Television Champion Aaron Blackbourne, should hopefully realize that I am deadly serious when I say that I am ready to put championship gold around my waist once again.

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Off Camera

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“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word.”

--- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. truly was an eternal optimist.  He believed that peace and love would conquer the racism of his day.  In some ways he was right but in other ways the problem continues to pervade society.  But just his mere example of hope and optimism, as well as his unwavering belief in the power of love, gives everyone a real moral standard to live by.

The Crown Jewel of Professional Wrestling, Marie Annabelle Jones, has been meditating on those words of Dr. King right now more than ever as she faces one of the toughest, most difficult challenges of her personal life.  It isn’t a challenge that she didn’t see coming.  It isn’t a surprise.  She knew she would have to face it one day.  It is a reality that she has had to face due to the consequences of what happened so many years ago, when she was much younger.

Marie didn’t get to choose the father of her son.  Oliver Hardy Sr. forced himself on her, had his way with her, raped and impregnated her.  But Marie did have a choice to have an abortion to give birth and raise the child.  As an orthodox, practicing Catholic, Marie chose to have the child and raise it.

She knew there would be consequences, both good and bad, that would come as a result of her choice to give birth.  She knew she would eventually have to face the nightmare of the assault and rape again.  She knew she would one day have to tell her child the truth of what happened.

The time has come.  Her son, Sean Connor Jones, is at an inquisitive age where he wants to learn many things and he has already become curious as to why his friends all have mothers and fathers whereas he just has a mother and Arthur Pond.  He wants to know the truth about his existence and while his mother agrees that he has a right to know, it is proving very difficult to tell him the truth that he seeks to know.

Marie’s situation and current challenge is shared by one other member of her family.  This entire difficulty is tied into someone else, another relative, someone whom she wishes to converse with and seek advice from before she ever approaches her son.

It’s bitter, cold, and dark outside in a gloomy, creepy cemetery on the outskirts of Boston, Massachusetts.  Inside this cemetery are trees, some are alive and well, but most of them are dying.  The grass is also dying, as indicated by its brownish color.  Lightning can be seen flashing in the background the wind can be heard howling off in the distance.  Leaves are blown about and while most of the headstones in the cemetery are upright and stable, others look as if they could topple over any moment, they look in total disarray.  Not a person, squirrel or even bird can be seen.  Its eerily quiet and empty, just completely empty.  Off to one side a new looking headstone stands out. Even the ground in front of the stone is fresh dirt.  The smell of moss and decaying leaves permeates the air.  Off in the distance is a marble stately mausoleum, which is in direct contrast to the rest of the cemetery, which is in clear disarray and has been neglected.

Standing directly in front of the entrance to this magnificent mausoleum is The Crown Jewel of Professional Wrestling.  She is wearing an ankle length leather skirt, black patent leather pumps, and a red long sleeve sweater.  Her long red hair hangs unrestrained to shoulder length.  Standing beside her is her aunt, Kayla Jones-Snow.  Normally Kayla is dressed nice, dressed to the “T” in her Sunday best almost every day.  But this mausoleum is different, it makes her feel uncomfortable.  Being here at this particular site makes it feel inappropriate to be dressing so nice.  This is the mausoleum hosting the remains of her foster father, Oliver Hardy Sr., the same individual who raped Marie Annabelle Jones.

Needless to say, Kayla feels no respect towards that man, neither in death nor in life.  Thus Kayla is wearing denim jeans, black flats, and a red long sleeve shirt.  Respect for the dead is not exactly in her mind at this point in time.

“Why did you want to come here, Aunt Kayla?” A curious, inquisitive Marie Annabelle Jones asks of her aunt.  Kayla responds with a light chuckle.

“It’s funny, I asked the same thing when your mother and my brother brought me here in October.  It took me this long to finally figure out the wisdom of what they did for me back then.” Kayla turns her attention to Marie and smiles warmly at her. “Hopefully you’ll be smarter than me.”

“Great, I hope so too, but…” Marie’s voice trails off as she stares curiously back up at the mausoleum “…uh, where IS here?”

“Oh that?  That’s the Hardy Family Mausoleum.  Inside you will find generations of the Hardy family; my own brother, Oliver Jr., has a spot there for when he passes on, and included inside is its most recent addition, Oliver Hardy Sr.”

“Wait a sec,” Marie’s eyes grow wide as a realization comes over her “you’re saying he’s inside?”

“What’s left of him, at least.  The family came to me and my brother and asked for the ashes.  They wanted to place his remains in the mausoleum.”

“What did you do?”

“Well at first I was opposed to the idea.  I was completely opposed and wouldn’t hear of giving them anything.  But that was rage blinding my judgment. I was still angry at Oliver for what he did to me growing up, for what he later did to you, and despite the fact that he was dead and gone and his family had nothing to do with any of his actions, I still took it out on them.”

“So did you ever give them the ashes?”

“Yes,” Kayla answers, nodding her head “but it took a great deal of convincing.  My brother Oliver and your mother had to bring me here, to Oliver Hardy Sr.’s final resting place, in order to snap me out of it.  But when I did finally snap out of it, when I let go of the grudge I held against that family and gave them what they asked for, it was like a great weight lifted off of my shoulders.”

“I’m not sure that’s going to help me.” Marie remarks as she looks away from the mausoleum, shaking her head. “This is different from your situation, Aunt Kayla.  You dealt with his family.  They wanted something from you and you had to let go of the past.  But for me, this involves my son.  This doesn’t involve that family.”

“And how does that NOT involve the Hardy family?” Kayla asks with a knowing look on her face as she looks at her niece.  “Oliver Hardy Sr. was my foster father, and he also is the same monster who raped and impregnated you, which makes him your son’s biological father.”

“You don’t get it, Aunt Kayla!” Marie exclaims.  She turns her back to Kayla and starts crying, real tears flowing down her cheek from her red eyes. “How could you possibly understand?!”

“How could I understand?” Kayla places a hand on Marie’s shoulder. “You forget, what he did to you he did to me…every day of my teenage life…the man is a monster, Marie, and I know from firsthand experience.  Yes, I know what you’re going through.  And I know all about the nightmares that result from what he did. I’ve had them too.”

Marie slowly turns around to face her Aunt Kayla.  Tears are still flowing down her cheek as the two women meet eye to eye once more.  Marie sighs as she tries to regain some composure.  Then she embraces her in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Kayla!”

“No need to apologize for anything, Marie.  It’s a tragic, difficult time.  It’s ok to feel this way.”

“But Aunt Kayla,” Marie breaks from the embrace and looks her aunt square in the eyes “the nightmares…they’re terrible…”

“I know,” Kayla remarks, nodding her head before motioning back to the mausoleum “but that’s precisely why we need to go inside.  Everything boils down to your fear, fear of that event, fear of him, even.”

“It’s not about the fear.  It’s about my son!”

“Yes, but you can’t tell your son because you fear having to face the past.  You need to face your fear, face the past, and move on from it in order to deal with your son.”

Marie pauses momentarily as she takes in the words of her aunt.  She looks over at the mausoleum almost as if it were her next opponent, daring her to come inside.  Marie then looks back at her aunt Kayla, tears once again flowing down her cheek.

“If I go inside, will the nightmares stop?”

“I’m not going to lie to you, Marie.  When I went inside, the nightmares did slow down but they never completely stopped. What I can tell you is that the nightmares will become more manageable.”

Marie again looks over to the mausoleum, almost sizing up her next challenge.  She turns back to face her Aunt Kayla and slowly nods her head.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

Both women look reluctant and even are hesitant to make the first steps forward.  But once Kayla reaches out and snatches her niece Marie by the hand and gives a tight squeeze, both seem to feel a little more confident as they begin to make their way walking hand in hand towards the mausoleum.  Kayla and Marie push open the doors and step inside.

Inside of the mausoleum is full of marble and granite.  It’s exquisite, definitely befitting a family with connections.  The Jones Family is one of those families that has connections but even Kayla and Marie are somewhat taken aback by the luxury of the Hardy Mausoleum.

“So many markers…” Marie’s voice trails off as she gazes around the extravagance of the place.

“A few of them are empty.  My brother’s is here somewhere but he’s not dead yet.” Kayla walks over to the center of the wall near the back of the mausoleum.  There are three larger markers there which Kayla points out. “These three represent three of the patriarchs of the Hardy family.”

Marie reluctantly joins Kayla over by the three larger markers.  Marie looks at them, reading them from the top down.

“Samuel Oliver Hardy…”

“My brother’s great grandfather.” Kayla answers.

“Samuel Oliver Hardy Jr.”

“My brother’s grandfather.”

“Oliver Hardy.”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Kayla says, slowly nodding her head. “That’s the man responsible for the biggest nightmares of both of our lives.”

Marie stares at the marker for a long time.  She runs her hand across it, shaking her head. Kayla, for her part, has no idea what her troubled niece will do next.  Marie then drops to her knees and starts to pound on the wall with her balled up fists.

“Why me?!  Why did you do this to me?!  Why did this have to happen to me?!” Marie buries her face in her hands and starts crying.  Kayla gently rubs her back in order to calm her.  Marie then flings her head back and shouts again. “This just isn’t fair!”

“No, it isn’t fair.  It isn’t fair to you or to Sean.”

“Sean…” Marie’s voice trails off.

“What Oliver Hardy did to you wasn’t right.  But what your son is going through isn’t fair either.  He’s a smart boy, Marie.  He can figure out that he doesn’t have a biological father to speak of.  That’s a missing piece of his life and you are the only one who can fill in that blank.”

“But do I really tell him this story?” Marie asks pointing at the Oliver Hardy marker on the wall “Should he really know that his father was a sexual predator?”

“You could lie to him, I suppose.  Or you could tell him the truth.” Kayla shakes her head.  “I can’t tell you what to do, Marie.  All I can tell you is that your son deserves an answer.  You need to tell him something because none of this is going away until you do tell him something.”

“I just worry, you know?”

“Worry about what?” Kayla asks, her head tilted ever so slightly as she studies her niece intensely.

“My son is smart, very smart.  But he’s also a Jones and you know how we’ve historically taken bad news.”

“Not too well.”

“Right, and that’s what I’m afraid of.”Marie remarks. “Remember how mom snapped when she found out about the secrets of grandma Kelly’s family in Russia?  You yourself admitted that you lost it just because Oliver Hardy’s relatives wanted his ashes.”

“That’s right…” Kayla’s voice trails off “…and you’re wondering how Sean will react to this news?”

“I don’t want to risk losing him, Aunt Kayla.  Sean is my entire life, but what if he hears this news and hates me?”

“He would never hate you.” Kayla answers, shaking her head.

“How do you know?!  He may hate me for keeping that secret from him for so long.  He may become depressed or suicidal when he realizes he is the result of a rape.”

“You’re being melodramatic.” Kayla says, shaking her head. “Just like your mother.”

“I’m NOT being melodramatic!”

“Oh yes you are.” Kayla says, actually chuckling lightly finally. “Just like your mother.”

“Quit saying that!”

“But it’s true.  Your mother has a daughter, you know?  A few of them in fact.  One of her daughters never got a chance to know her biological father either and that was because your mother killed him.”

Marie rolls her eyes.  Kayla is talking about her and Marie knows it.  Angelica did kill Marie’s father.  Angelica kept it a secret from Marie for as long as she could, until she had to face the reality.  Until she had to face the truth.

“Those things you’re saying to me about how your son might hate you, how he may never forgive you; your mother said the same things to me back then regarding you.”

“But Sean is my life…I can’t risk it…”

“Your mom said that, too.  She went a little further, in fact.  She said that you were the glue that kept her together, that kept her sane. But she told you the truth.  Did you hate her?”

“A little at first…” Marie admits.

“And there will always be a shock at first, but you learn to get a grip on it.  That’s another thing we Joneses are good at.  We are strong willed and determined not to let anything break us.  If Sean has any of that Jones spirit in him, he won’t let this secret break him.” She places a hand on Marie’s shoulder. “And he’ll always love you.”

“How can you be sure?”

“You’re his mother.  He’ll always love you.”

“Love conquers all?”

“Love conquers all.” Kayla repeats. “Truth and love will conquer any foe any day of the week.  I believe this and deep in your heart I’m sure you believe it too.”

There is a pause as Marie stares into her Aunt Kayla’s eyes.  There is a lot to consider now that she’s been here at this place, this mausoleum that she didn’t even know existed.  It is the final resting place of Oliver Hardy, the man who kidnapped and raped her, the man who is the biological father of her son Sean Connor Jones.  There is a lot of history here and not all of it good.  But one thing Marie knows for certain is that she wants this nightmare to end and that her son deserves at least some kind of an answer.  And maybe, just maybe, the truth will set her free.  A grin forms on her face.

“Thank you, Aunt Kayla.  I think I know what to do.”

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A Few Hours Later

Off Camera

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“So, how did things go with your Aunt?”

Arthur Pond is sitting with his wife on their plush cream colored leather sofa in the living room of their home in Boston, Massachusetts.  The living room area is comfortably big with carpeting that is cream colored, matching the sofa.  There is a flat screen television mounted to the wall above the fireplace.  There is a window against the wall allowing sunlight from outside to stream in. But that sunlight won’t last much longer.  It’s late in the day and the sun will begin to go down soon enough.  Two large potted plants are on either side of the window.

Marie has already changed out of her attire from her earlier visit with Kayla at the mausoleum.  She now is clad in merely a pink nightgown with a matching pink robe overtop.  Her husband Arthur is wearing denim jeans, a plain white shirt, and brown loafers. He stares with a slight look of concern at his lovely redheaded wife.  And he has reason to be concerned.  She was on the verge of a breakdown not too long ago when her son, Sean Connor Jones, asked about his real father…

…his real, biological father.

“Pretty much what I expected.” Marie says with a sigh before shaking her head. “Well, not exactly what I expected.  I didn’t expect her take me to the mausoleum where the son of a bitch was resting in hell.”

“Ouch,” Arthur remarks, wincing as if he could feel that pain himself “I could only imagine how that was for you.”

“You have no idea.” Marie runs a trembling hand through her long red hair. “In any event, it did bring back some memories…some of those bad memories…and Kayla didn’t exactly say anything I wasn’t expecting her to say, but…”

“But?”

“…but I realize she was right.  She was right about me and about this situation.  She told me what I already knew, Arthur, I just didn’t want to admit it.”

“Well I think you and I both knew that you had to tell your son the truth eventually.  If it took your Aunt Kayla telling you this in order for you to face that reality, then so be it.  Point is that you do now know what you must do, correct?”

“Yeah,” Marie says, slowly nodding her head. “I know.  I’m still scared though.”

Marie casts a gaze out of the living room and into the hall.  She gets a slight glimpse of the stairs that leads upstairs where her son Sean is probably waiting.  Jones then turns her gaze back to Arthur and sighs.

“I’m worried that he’ll hate me when he finds out.”

“He won’t hate you.” Arthur responds, shaking his head.

“Yeah, that’s what Aunt Kayla said, and I want to believe her, but there’s still that lingering doubt.  Besides, can he HANDLE the truth?  Will he snap if he finds out who his father was and that he is the result of a rape?”

“I’ve been around that boy for quite some time, Marie and he’s strong, very strong.” He reaches out and grasps her hands tightly. “Just like his mother.  He can take it, trust me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.  But if you really are that concerned, I can go with you when you tell him.”

“Well, maybe…” Marie turns and looks again down the hall and at the staircase before turning back to face Arthur; Marie shakes her head “…no, I have to do this on my own.”

“That’s fine, Marie, but it’s my turn to ask are YOU sure?”

“Positive.” Marie nods her head. “I’m his mother. It’s my responsibility.”

“Good for you.” Arthur and Marie both rise up off of the sofa.  Arthur kisses her on the cheek. “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I may need it.”

Marie turns away from Arthur and exits the living room.  Marie heads slowly and quietly towards the staircase in the hall.  Looking up the stairs she takes a deep breath and begins her ascent.  She continues climbing until she gets to the top.  There she walks a very short distance down that hall until she reaches a slightly open door.  She pushes the door the rest of the way open and steps inside, finding her son sitting there on his bed, reading a Spider-Man comic book.

“Hi, Sean.” She motions to the comic he has in his hands. “Are you busy?”

“Oh, not busy at all mom.  Just reading.”

Marie walks further into the room, shutting the door behind her.  She stops at Sean’s bed and sits down on the edge.

“Mind if we have a little mother to son talk?”

“Sure.” Sean puts the comic down and then sits up on the bed next to his mom. “What’s up?”

“I think you know what’s up, Sean.” Marie smiles warmly at her son and winks at him. “You always have been an incredibly smart little boy.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He pauses and then sighs. “So this is about my daddy?”

“Yes, this is about your father.” Marie embraces her son tightly and kisses him on the cheek. “I love you, Sean.  Everything I’ve ever done to you and for you has been because I love you.  I wouldn’t even know what I would do without you.”

“I love you too, mom.”

“I kept the truth about your father from you because I wasn’t sure you could handle it.  But you’ve grown old enough that you deserve the truth and, to be perfectly honest, I think you can handle the truth.  You’ve always been a strong boy, you can handle this.”

“Handle what?” Sean asks, looking perplexed.

“There is a reason why your father was never around during your life.”

“Did you two break up?”

“It isn’t as simple as that, sweetie.” Mari e remarks, shaking her head. “Your father and I were never together in the first place.  Your father, he…he…”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Sean shakes his head. “You two weren’t together, so how did…”

“Your father hurt me, Sean!” Marie exclaims, finally deciding that, just like a bandage, it may be best to just rip it off. “He hurt me and had his way with me…he forced himself on me…but Sean…”

Marie reaches out and places both hands on her son’s shoulders.  She gazes deep into his eyes, eyes which are wide with wonder and awe.

“...every dark cloud comes a silver lining.  There is a good for every bad and you are the ultimate good that came from the evils he perpetrated.  You may not understand it all right now.  God knows it’s a lot to take in for a young boy like you.  But one day you’ll understand all of it fully.  Just understand that while your father was not a good man, that doesn’t mean anything about you and me.  I love you, Sean.  I always will.”

“So my daddy is…”

“He’s dead, sweetie.” Marie says with a great big sigh. “Your father is dead; another former victim of his ended up killing him shortly after he abused me.  I’m sorry.”

“Uh, it’s ok…” Sean lies back down and brings the comic book back over his face “…thanks for telling me mom, but uh, I think I just want to get back to reading right now.”

“Are you sure, Sean?  Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, mom…I’m fine…perfectly fine.”

Marie stares at Sean for a long time.  Her instincts tell her that he isn’t fine.  But her mind tells her that now is not the time to be digging further into this situation.  Marie listens to her mind as opposed to her instincts as she stands up off of the bed and starts to walk towards the bedroom door.  She exits her son’s bedroom, leaving him alone, and not even noticing the tears rolling down his cheek.

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On Camera

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Redemption…

To the religious community, redemption typically means absolution from a sin you have committed.  Others view redemption in a more secular sense; in short, payment of a debt.  But for me, redemption is more than just a word.  It’s more than a lifestyle.  Redemption is what I’ve based both my professional and personal life on.  My entire life has been a great big story of redemption.

Most observers know that my mother hasn’t exactly been the saintliest of human beings throughout her wrestling career.  Neither has my Aunt Kayla Jones.  My sister and I both became professional wrestlers in the first place not to follow in the footsteps of The Sisterhood, because if we had we would have called ourselves The Sisterhood.  Instead my sister and I called ourselves redemption because we were hell bent on redeeming the Jones family name.

I wish I could say I was always a better person than my mother, but this is just a case of the pot calling the kettle black.  Just like my mother, I wasn’t always a saint either.  Just ask Sophie James and Kimberly Williams about the #GingerHoax.  I let Kimberly pretend to be me in UWA, wrestling in my place out of protest because I was too busy throwing a tantrum over supposedly bad treatment.  It took a long time before I earned the trust and respect of the locker room and most importantly the fans.  But I went on that long, hard, redemption journey in order to earn that redemption and once again become that wrestler, The Phoenix that I was meant to be.

I used to hold championship gold here in Supreme Championship Wrestling.  I was the SCW United States Champion.  I had even managed to successfully defend the championship against a former world champion in Regan Street.  I was on top of the world and thought I was untouchable.

Then Puerto Rico happened and I lost my United States Championship to Jinn.

I was angry at first because I realized what had happened.  Not only had I lost the title but I lost the opportunity to go in to Rise To Greatness as a defending champion.  But then I realized it was my own fault.  I let down my guard.  I wasn’t competing at the level I knew I could compete.  That’s how Jinn snuck in and beat me for the title.  I let it happen through my own arrogance and laziness.

It’s taken several months now but I have finally fought my way back to where I need to be.  And I’m just not talking about competing for a championship, though that is a plus and it is a great big symbol of my current redemption journey.

I’m not just back to fighting at the same level I once was; oh no…I’m BETTER than I once was!  I have been tried and tested by the best SCW has had to offer; Ace Marshall, Christy Matthews, Alistair Alloco, Bree Mason.  I’ve fought them all.  I lost some but guess what?  I won some.  I beat former world champions.  And now I am ready to take into my possession a prize that symbolizes my arrival, that signals to the rest of the SCW universe that my redemption journey has reached its conclusion.

I’m ready to take possession of the SCW Television Championship.

And let me tell you, this should be a damn good one, am I right Aaron Blackbourne?  Two Massachusetts natives going head to head.  The people of Massachusetts are very prideful individuals.  Just look at what happened when the King of England tried to tax our tea?  We threw it into Boston Harbor and started a war later on.  I can imagine that one of us won’t exactly be in the best of moods when this is over, so I’ll go ahead and apologize in advance for taking that championship away from you.

It seems as if I’m not the only one on a roll lately.  Aaron Blackbourne, you beat Billy Breakdown and then finally Donovan Kayl to become SCW Television Champion.  Then you successfully defended that title against The Gothfather.

So this is how it all breaks down.  Back at Supreme Saturday Puerto Rico, I screwed up.  I let my guard down and I lost the United States Championship.  I’ve been fighting all this time, tooth and nail, fighting with every ounce of sweat, every drop of blood, trying to get back to that fighting spirit.  I haven’t just gotten back to that place, I’ve gotten BETTER than I once was.  And now I finally have a championship match.  My first singles one on one title shot since Puerto Rico. This redemption journey has taken me directly to you, Blackbourne, you and or Television Title.

I want that Television Title because it is the undeniable sign that my redemption journey isn’t just over but it was a success.

Therein lies the rub; success…it means different things to different people, just like redemption means different things to different people…but in the world of professional wrestling, those who come oh so close but can’t quite grab that brass ring are forgotten.

Think what you may about Jonathan Knots, he does have somewhat of a good point in that people pay attention to winners.  Now I’m not saying winning is everything, but damn you do make a hell of a lot more of an impact by winning than you do by coming real close only to lose at the very end.

I’m through with “close but no cigar”, I’m through with not “grabbing that brass ring”, and I’m damn sure going to make sure that THIS particular redemption journey is going to end on a high note for me.  So Aaron, I’m not going to give you my usual spiel about how we’re going to tear down the house, how it’ll be a hell of a match for the fans no matter who wins.

Now don’t get me wrong, we will tear down the house and we will give the fans a hell of a match.  But I’m telling you right now that I’m going to win that SCW Television Championship.  I have to win that SCW Television Championship.  As great as it’ll look to have a hell of a match on Breakdown, I won’t be remembered JUST for having a hell of a match.

I’ll be remembered for having a hell of a match AND winning the SCW Television Championship.

Yes, Aaron, you HAVE been on quite the roll lately. Unfortunately, in order for me to complete this redemption race the way I want to complete it, I have to do it at your expense.  I have to take your championship away from you and put a halt to any and all momentum you had built up.  And there’s nothing you can do to stop it, Aaron, because I am going to complete this redemption. I will be SCW Television Champion.