Post by Mercedes Vargas on Apr 15, 2011 21:17:47 GMT -6
(We open our scene with a long view of an alley way in the afternoon. What debri that scattered the area was suddenly picked up by the small gust of wind, which sends it every which way.)
(A litter of kittens surround a dumpster in search of scraps. The camera focuses one tomcat who separated itself from the group. A piece of bread is thrown in its direction to which gets the attention of the others as they begin to contest over it. At first we only see the arms and hands of the person before the camera pans to reveal that it is Mercedes Vargas, though one wouldn't recognize her simply by looking. She seemed withdrawn, almost out of it. Her eyes are bloodshot, possibly due to crying or maybe, just maybe she was under the effect of drugs)
(Tossing her hair back, she finally acknowledges the camera.)
So, this is the competition I'm up against? (chuckling) I thought it would be much harder. Since joining nCw, I have seen some pretty strange characters. Some wear masks; others are just crazy. And when it comes to the women's division? Forget watching the Twilight Zone, I'm in it. Well, you know what they say: misery loves company. I'm going to cancel my subscription - the issues that my opponents have are best left to the professionals and Dr. Phil's of the world. I guess all of you have me confused with someone who give a damn about your problems. (shrugs) When I look at all of you, I don't see five opponents who I have to worry about; what I see is five women whose last group therapy session didn't go too well.
Que pasa, Stephanie Sullivan? Long time, no talk to. And how is little Tyler and Grandma doing, hmm? I sure hope they'll be watching this Sunday night because I think we ALL know what you'll have in store for us in two days: you coming down that ring and shaking what your neighbourhood plastic surgeon gave you, enticing the fans. Fact. Here is another fact: you have only two wins to your name here in NCW. I'm going to pause and let you all go 'oooooooh'. Okay. And here's another fact, Steph: the last time we met in the ring, you were in a position I'm sure you're very familiar with, and that's on your back. I don't know. Maybe you found your dignity there, too.
Now, I'm sure the history between you and Alysson Gardner in Ring of Beauty would make a good bedtime story, but to be honest, I could care less. This is one lover's quarrel I refuse to get involved in. You talk about having faith and believing in yourself? Yeah, thanks for the Afterschool Special, Steph, because if there is anyone who has anything to teach us, it's you. You want to know what I believe, Steph? I believe that you're going to be an easy target this Sunday in the match, and I have enough faith that if Alysson isn't the one who's going to eliminate you...then I'll be more than happy to do the job for her. As far as Alysson Gardner goes,
(Mercedes gives a slow applause as a smirk crosses her face.)
You deserve an Emmy for that tough girl performance, sweetheart. You call yourself the "Hardcore Icon". You, an 'icon'? I guess the standards must be pretty damn low in your case. Seriously, Aly, I've seen your type before. You can pull that crap with everybody else, but deep down inside, you probably cry yourself to sleep at night. Again, I'm not going to start analyzing your problems - you already took care of that with your weekly visit to the shrink. I will say this: other than yours truly, you're one of the favourites to win the battle royal, and there's a pretty good chance that we'll be the last two standing. If you ever hope of winning this Sunday, you'll have to get past me first.
Too many freaks, not enough circuses. Take Nexus for instance. I mean, you don't deserve to be in a wrestling ring, you deserve to be locked in a straightjacket. Crazy or pleading for temporary insanity? Inquiring minds want to know.
Kathleen Conway, The Wildcat, the Queen of Diamonds. How about I help you come up with a new nickname? From now on, you'll be known as...NyQuil. You put me to sleep, Kathleen. You think you're the X-factor going into Sovereign? How about the Z factor... (begins closing her eyes before quickly opening them again) So, you think you're the luckiest woman in the entire world, huh? Yeah, that's about right. You're just returning to NCW until a waffle house opens up or maybe returning behind the counter selling make-up products for minimum wage just isn't good enough for you. (makes a cat paw motion at the camera) Hiss!
As for you, Mercedes Lewis...
(Mercedes becomes quiet, head down. She heaves a deep sigh before slowly looking up at the camera.)
I guess you have me all figured out. I guess you know me all too well. (her voice begins to break) I mean, look at me. My clothes are tattered, my hair is a mess. I've been living on ramen for days on end.
(She covers her face with her hands.)
I, too have a problem, Mercedes, and admitting it is the first step to recovery. My name is Mercedes Vargas, and I have an addiction...
(Mercedes lowers her head in shame, but she just as soon looks up again.)
AN ADDICTION TO KICK...YOUR...ASS! And I'm not going to reach a natural high until I eliminate you and whoever else gets in my way. In case you forgot - and that's quite possible - (points at herself) I beat (points at camera) you in my debut match in nCw, and you have yet to win a match. Do you know how easily I could make this match the worst night of your life, Mercedes? Do you? You started at the bottom here in this company, and it's been downhill ever since. You run your mouth, and I'll run my business. And no, it's not in the drug trade, you estúpido, ignorante grasa maloliente puta. Open your mind and shut your mouth, both are empty anyway.
(Mercedes stands to her feet, dusting herself off from the dirt and grime. She draws the camera towards her with a curve of her finger.)
Trish Newborn, Roxxxxie, whoever walks out of Sovereign as the Women's World Champion, I want you to take a good look at your next opponent. And if I were either of you - and I'm sooooo glad I'm not - I wouldn't plan on keeping that title for very long.
(The last few seconds of the YouTube video ends as it seen from an open laptop placed on a table. We hear the sound of typing before the video is played again. Mercedes reaches for her bottle of water as she takes a small sip and sits back in her living room couch. Fade to black.)
(A litter of kittens surround a dumpster in search of scraps. The camera focuses one tomcat who separated itself from the group. A piece of bread is thrown in its direction to which gets the attention of the others as they begin to contest over it. At first we only see the arms and hands of the person before the camera pans to reveal that it is Mercedes Vargas, though one wouldn't recognize her simply by looking. She seemed withdrawn, almost out of it. Her eyes are bloodshot, possibly due to crying or maybe, just maybe she was under the effect of drugs)
(Tossing her hair back, she finally acknowledges the camera.)
So, this is the competition I'm up against? (chuckling) I thought it would be much harder. Since joining nCw, I have seen some pretty strange characters. Some wear masks; others are just crazy. And when it comes to the women's division? Forget watching the Twilight Zone, I'm in it. Well, you know what they say: misery loves company. I'm going to cancel my subscription - the issues that my opponents have are best left to the professionals and Dr. Phil's of the world. I guess all of you have me confused with someone who give a damn about your problems. (shrugs) When I look at all of you, I don't see five opponents who I have to worry about; what I see is five women whose last group therapy session didn't go too well.
Que pasa, Stephanie Sullivan? Long time, no talk to. And how is little Tyler and Grandma doing, hmm? I sure hope they'll be watching this Sunday night because I think we ALL know what you'll have in store for us in two days: you coming down that ring and shaking what your neighbourhood plastic surgeon gave you, enticing the fans. Fact. Here is another fact: you have only two wins to your name here in NCW. I'm going to pause and let you all go 'oooooooh'. Okay. And here's another fact, Steph: the last time we met in the ring, you were in a position I'm sure you're very familiar with, and that's on your back. I don't know. Maybe you found your dignity there, too.
Now, I'm sure the history between you and Alysson Gardner in Ring of Beauty would make a good bedtime story, but to be honest, I could care less. This is one lover's quarrel I refuse to get involved in. You talk about having faith and believing in yourself? Yeah, thanks for the Afterschool Special, Steph, because if there is anyone who has anything to teach us, it's you. You want to know what I believe, Steph? I believe that you're going to be an easy target this Sunday in the match, and I have enough faith that if Alysson isn't the one who's going to eliminate you...then I'll be more than happy to do the job for her. As far as Alysson Gardner goes,
(Mercedes gives a slow applause as a smirk crosses her face.)
You deserve an Emmy for that tough girl performance, sweetheart. You call yourself the "Hardcore Icon". You, an 'icon'? I guess the standards must be pretty damn low in your case. Seriously, Aly, I've seen your type before. You can pull that crap with everybody else, but deep down inside, you probably cry yourself to sleep at night. Again, I'm not going to start analyzing your problems - you already took care of that with your weekly visit to the shrink. I will say this: other than yours truly, you're one of the favourites to win the battle royal, and there's a pretty good chance that we'll be the last two standing. If you ever hope of winning this Sunday, you'll have to get past me first.
Too many freaks, not enough circuses. Take Nexus for instance. I mean, you don't deserve to be in a wrestling ring, you deserve to be locked in a straightjacket. Crazy or pleading for temporary insanity? Inquiring minds want to know.
Kathleen Conway, The Wildcat, the Queen of Diamonds. How about I help you come up with a new nickname? From now on, you'll be known as...NyQuil. You put me to sleep, Kathleen. You think you're the X-factor going into Sovereign? How about the Z factor... (begins closing her eyes before quickly opening them again) So, you think you're the luckiest woman in the entire world, huh? Yeah, that's about right. You're just returning to NCW until a waffle house opens up or maybe returning behind the counter selling make-up products for minimum wage just isn't good enough for you. (makes a cat paw motion at the camera) Hiss!
As for you, Mercedes Lewis...
(Mercedes becomes quiet, head down. She heaves a deep sigh before slowly looking up at the camera.)
I guess you have me all figured out. I guess you know me all too well. (her voice begins to break) I mean, look at me. My clothes are tattered, my hair is a mess. I've been living on ramen for days on end.
(She covers her face with her hands.)
I, too have a problem, Mercedes, and admitting it is the first step to recovery. My name is Mercedes Vargas, and I have an addiction...
(Mercedes lowers her head in shame, but she just as soon looks up again.)
AN ADDICTION TO KICK...YOUR...ASS! And I'm not going to reach a natural high until I eliminate you and whoever else gets in my way. In case you forgot - and that's quite possible - (points at herself) I beat (points at camera) you in my debut match in nCw, and you have yet to win a match. Do you know how easily I could make this match the worst night of your life, Mercedes? Do you? You started at the bottom here in this company, and it's been downhill ever since. You run your mouth, and I'll run my business. And no, it's not in the drug trade, you estúpido, ignorante grasa maloliente puta. Open your mind and shut your mouth, both are empty anyway.
(Mercedes stands to her feet, dusting herself off from the dirt and grime. She draws the camera towards her with a curve of her finger.)
Trish Newborn, Roxxxxie, whoever walks out of Sovereign as the Women's World Champion, I want you to take a good look at your next opponent. And if I were either of you - and I'm sooooo glad I'm not - I wouldn't plan on keeping that title for very long.
(The last few seconds of the YouTube video ends as it seen from an open laptop placed on a table. We hear the sound of typing before the video is played again. Mercedes reaches for her bottle of water as she takes a small sip and sits back in her living room couch. Fade to black.)