Post by Mercedes Vargas on Aug 28, 2011 0:49:16 GMT -6
So much for destiny, right, Michelle?
I guess tag team wrestling just isn't your thing. As it turns out, my prediction came true. But don't thank me, thank your partner for making this all possible. Now, I know this loss must be embarrassing for you, so I can understand why you failed to even mention Kat and myself by name, and that's a shame. You should know your Tag Team Champions.
Don't worry, you can pretend that this match never happened. It's all in your mind, a figment of your imagination.
It's too bad 17,000 people saw it before their very eyes.
For all that talk about your family legacy and dynasty, you seem to be, well, not living up to expectations, and that, too, is a shame. You get on this little winning streak and suddenly you think you were invincible, untouchable, but little did we know; little did we know, Michelle, that your pursuit of perfection was not meant to be. The higher the pedestal, the greater the fall. And oh how the mighty have fallen.
What makes this so interesting is the fact that even though you lost, you somehow think you're the cream of the crop here in the women's division. Now, I don't know about that, Michelle. You're like a fajita. More steak, less sizzle. Hey, but at least your better half won his match, so the night wasn't that bad.
And for the record, you were pinned TWICE. You can deny what happened at Picture Perfect, but facts are facts.
Oh, and you're welcome.
Now, Crystal, Michelle isn't the only one who has noticed you haven't been yourself lately. Has the mirrors stopped talking to you? Did you forget your little book, hmm? Is Steve Awesome avoiding you for fear you might blow up at him again?
We did give the fans a match they would never forget, but like Michelle, I don't think you would like to remember that night either. The better team beat the very best, and that is something Kat and myself should be commended for. I'm not holding my breath.
It doesn't really matter. You call these past three weeks “bad luck”? No, that's not it. The Gospel According to Mercedes says that we just branded your ass as a loser.
That's right, Crystal. You're a loser. And I'm glad you had enough courage to admit it. You did say you lost everything that mattered to you.
You've lost matches, you've lost your mind, you've lost my respect, and now you're about to lose something else...
Your career.
I mean, you are supposed to be retiring soon, right? And who knows maybe this match with Michelle could be your very last match.
Perfection never fails.
(The outside of an laundromat at night. Through the window we see a few people inside. Next to one of the larger machines, we see a woman having laundry thrown at her to put into the dryer. She catches a few pieces before holding her hands out to catch a few more items, two or three at a time. Some flew past her and ended up on the floor, which she scrambles to add to the pile. Sitting behind a desk is the laundromat operator, a man in his mid-thirties. He is wearing a wifebeater and reading the newspaper.. )
(Distracted by the plasma television on the wall, the woman stopped to watch the news. She grabs another article of clothing from the air without even looking.)
“First an earthquake, now a hurricane? Thank God I live in California.”
(A sweater slaps her in the face which she peels off.)
“Mercedes!”
“What?”
(Listening to music through headphone and dancing, Mercedes wanders over to where her cousin stood and looks up at the screen. The weather map was outlined in a mess of arrows and diagrams highlighting the hurricane's path. Mercedes removed her headphones to better hear the details before she started losing interest.)
Mercedes: This is bad. This is really bad, Carmen. I don't know if I'll even have an apartment when I get back.
Carmen: Would you like some advice?
Mercedes: Is it good advice?
Carmen: Depends.
Mercedes: I think I'll take my chances. So, what is it?
Carmen: Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
Mercedes: Easy for you to say.
Carmen: I know, that's why I said it. What could possibly go wrong?
Mercedes: Do you want me to make you a laundry list?
(A tall, handsome man enters the laundromat with a bag of laundry over his shoulder. He is texting on his phone.)
Carmen: Not a bad idea. Why don't you get on that?
(The man walks into Mercedes. She looks up at him.)
Mercedes: Excuse me.
Man: Not a problem. (Carmen squints at Mercedes before filling up a cart with some more laundry. She opens another dryer as Mercedes leans on the door.)
Mercedes: (in Spanish) See that guy over there? (Carmen turns to see him doing his laundry. She turns back to toss in a sock) I bet I can take him.
Carmen: (sighs; in Spanish) Please don't. Not tonight. (shuts the door)
Mercedes: (in Spanish) What...?
(Waiting for her clothes to dry, Carmen is sitting down reading a magazine. Mercedes is next to her drinking a soda. The man joins them sitting two seats away..)
Carmen: (still reading; in Spanish) You should give him a striptease.
Mercedes: (in Spanish) Well, the night's still young.
(Mercedes take another sip of her drink.)
Man: (looking up from a folded newspaper; in Spanish) Really?
(Mercedes spits out soda while Carmen barely gives a passing glance.)
Man: Haven't I seen you two someplace before?
Mercedes: Yes, that's why we don't go there anymore.
Man: A week has seven days. How many do you have for me?
Mercedes: A riddle, for me? (feints astonishment) Well, how many days are in a year?
Man: 365.
Mercedes: That's how long I'll be avoiding you.
Man: Why aren't you married yet?
Mercedes: Why aren't you thin?
Man: I can always lose weight.
Mercedes: There's no time like the present.
Man: I agree. I'm attracted to yes and allergic to no. What'll it be?
Mercedes: Hmm, I don't know. You also seem to be attracted to food and allergic to exercise.
(Carmen is at the folding table and looks back at Mercedes, shaking her head and mouthing the word “wow”)
Man: How many people have you killed so far...with your smile?
Mercedes: Smile? Oh no, my weapon of choice is black with a hallow tube barrel, trigger, and it's very portable. I kind of lost count of how many I've killed, but I would have to say its more or less equal to the amount of calories you've gained...in a day. Shall we continue?
(Mercedes moves quickly away and joins Carmen. She throws in a second basket of clothes in the dryer and slams the door, dusting her hands off. Just as soon as she turns..)
Man: (squints at Carmen) She always like that? (Mercedes heads over to check the dryer)
Mercedes: Hey, I found an odd shirt in here.
Carmen: Looks can be deceiving. I'm actually the mean one. (extends her hand out) Hi, I'm Carmen. (He takes her hand) Nice to meet you. (Carmen smiles)
Man: I'm Luke.
Mercedes: Use the force, Luke. (carrying a basket full of laundry from the dryer)
Carmen: (Looking at Mercedes, than back to man) And that's my cousin, Mercedes. I'll be right back.
(The man tends to his own laundry as Carmen stops Mercedes at the door.)
Carmen: (sitting on a washing machine) That was mean.
Mercedes: [swivels her hips like Elvis; smiles] Thank you, thank you very much.
Carmen: Do you have to ruin every social situation I'm in?
Mercedes: What's wrong with that?
Carmen: Um, it's not normal.
Mercedes: Which is also just a setting on the washing machine.
Carmen: Mercedes, knock it off, alright.
Mercedes: Did you see how he was putting me through the spin cycle? What was that?
Carmen: I'm just glad you're not staining your image by airing your dirty laundry in public.
Mercedes: At least I have a working dryer at home.
Carmen: You must be having loads of fun at my expense. I doubt that dryer will be the only thing that survives Irene, though.
Mercedes: (setting basket on table) Am I getting a timeout?
Carmen: No, we're leaving.
Mercedes: What?
Carmen: NOW.
(Luke turns around seeing them going through the door.)
Luke: Leaving already?
Mercedes: (from outside) It's 4 AM. Do you know where your midnight snack is?
Carmen: (sheepishly) She's off her meds.
Luke: That was my first guess, too. So, when will I see you again?
Carmen: Um...
Mercedes: Please leave a message after the beep. Thank you.
Well, well, well. I have to admit that fifty percent of the time, I'm usually wrong, but when it comes to you, Emma Danielson, ninety percent of the time, I'm usually right.
What was it that you said? An opportunity to prove yourself? Well, you got your match against Alysson, you got your shot, and you did show everyone what you can do.
Choke.
What's more shocking than Alysson becoming Women's Champion is you, Emma, getting a title shot at the pay-per-view. When I heard the news, I laughed my ass off. What, was it Karoke Night and you invited Ruston Bourne for a few beers and somehow got him drunk so you can have this match? Because that's the ONLY reason why this could have happened.
Let's face it, sweetheart, your track record speaks for itself. This is your, what, fifth title match overall? And the one time you did win the title, you, um, CHOKED, in your first title defense. How the hell do you manage to lose to Trish Newborn? I'm still scratching my head over that one.
And I'm also scratching my head over why there is a certain name missing on Kelly Knite's poll question of the week. Oh, that name would be yours, Emma, because after Alysson is through with you, there's no reason why you shouldn't be the first inductee into the NCW Hall of Shame.
So, it all comes down to this.
The match everyone has been waiting for.
The moment of BWA's rise atop the women's division.
If only it were so easy.
I know, I know, you're probably going to say that the only reason why this match is before the main event is because you two are in it. And you know something? That makes me feel oh so much better. Because I want everyone to see the humiliation on your faces this Sunday.
Rayne, Ayla, I sat back and I thought about what you said last week, and you know it really made me think.
And then think again.
So, let me see if I understand this. If you manage to beat Kathleen and myself, that makes the two of you...the next pretenders to the throne? Okay, I think we're getting somewhere. Have any of you thought of the possibility that Leonard Fox won't fall for your intimidation? If a member of his own family couldn't do it, what makes you think you have any chance?
You talk about fakes? Ayla and Rayne, you're the biggest FAKES of them all. With a few exceptions, you question the other “Starlets” about their desire in the ring, what their purpose is in NCW. I've been called a lot of things, but one thing I am not...is a HYPOCRITE. But you see, ladies, you're in good company. Not too long ago, there was a woman who said she didn't care what anybody else thought about her, that she wasn't going anywhere. The one who claimed to be the brightest star in this company. Well, that star faded.
And now here you are, the both of you, criticizing me and Kathleen that because we haven't coaxed her out of her little safety net, we're not real champions? Here you are belittling us for something we refuse to do. Look at Shelly Taylor Jones. For weeks on end, her empty threats went unanswered until she finally realised that it was a waste of time.
I hate to disappoint you ladies, but that girl is not coming back. No matter how much you bitch and moan, she's done with NCW. But I can see why you would want her back. This whole “war” you've got going on is nothing but a smokescreen, and this is the part where you should really pay attention. You said it the first night you got here, Rayne. You and Ayla weren't here to build a division from the ground up, the only reason why you cockroaches are back is to state your claims as the best tag team in this company. You may have fooled everybody else, but I'm the only who saw through your smoke and mirrors, your pack of lies. And believe me, you both know that if it wasn't for that girl, your careers would have gone nowhere, and nowhere fast.
And I guess losing to that girl is being 'challenged by a real wrestler'. Finally, it dawned on me, it finally dawned on me – you two, and Emma, like having that girl around, don't you? You just love it when you find yourselves on the losing end against her. Rayne, you beat her once, but I would swear that you won the lottery or something with the way you always mentioning it. Every woman has their Emma Danielson moment, but you're forgetting one thing – neither you or Ayla could beat that girl when it mattered. You couldn't get the job done even with Tara Fenix to help you in that handicap match. And Ayla, in back-to-back pay-per-views, you couldn't beat her with three other people involved, let alone by yourself. As a matter of fact, it's funny that we're heading back to Madison Square Garden, because in that one-on-one match, you lost the Millenia Title.
Oh, and you tapped out that night.
Tap, tap, tap.
And we can't forget about the Riot match, where Emma won her only Women's Championship. Case in point, ladies, if at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried. You two are back in this company not only to prove yourselves as the best tag team in the company, but so you can get that proverbial monkey off your backs, and that's beating that girl on the grandest stage.
You two helped built this division, you were the first tag team since its inception. Now ask me if I care.
Go on.
Ask me.
I guess you think I'm supposed to be impressed.
But I'm not.
People tell me that I should be singing your praises.
But I won't.
People say that I should be intimidated by the likes of you.
But I'm not.
How can you become what you already are?
No, not bitches. You've got that part down.
You're walking contradictions, the both of you.
But I can tell you what's not a contradiction. After last week, I thought the two of you would be satisfied. You wanted a REAL challenge, right? Well, since Kathleen and I are the REAL champions and you two are the REAL wrestlers, we are putting our titles on the line in a REAL match in exchange for the end of Bitches with Attitude.
Should be REAL fun.
No, no, Ayla. This Sunday, unlike a typical soap opera, isn't going to be scripted. There won't be time for a dress rehearsal or to read your lines, but I promise you that you'll have your precious fifteen minutes in the spotlight before I ship your ass overnight delivery in a crate back to "Muntreal". That's how you pronounce it, right? "Muntreal" not "Mahntreal".
I think we all come out winners here. And at match end, the four of us get what we deserve.
Kathleen and I getting respect.
And the two of you getting an ass-kicking of a lifetime.
I guess tag team wrestling just isn't your thing. As it turns out, my prediction came true. But don't thank me, thank your partner for making this all possible. Now, I know this loss must be embarrassing for you, so I can understand why you failed to even mention Kat and myself by name, and that's a shame. You should know your Tag Team Champions.
Don't worry, you can pretend that this match never happened. It's all in your mind, a figment of your imagination.
It's too bad 17,000 people saw it before their very eyes.
For all that talk about your family legacy and dynasty, you seem to be, well, not living up to expectations, and that, too, is a shame. You get on this little winning streak and suddenly you think you were invincible, untouchable, but little did we know; little did we know, Michelle, that your pursuit of perfection was not meant to be. The higher the pedestal, the greater the fall. And oh how the mighty have fallen.
What makes this so interesting is the fact that even though you lost, you somehow think you're the cream of the crop here in the women's division. Now, I don't know about that, Michelle. You're like a fajita. More steak, less sizzle. Hey, but at least your better half won his match, so the night wasn't that bad.
And for the record, you were pinned TWICE. You can deny what happened at Picture Perfect, but facts are facts.
Oh, and you're welcome.
Now, Crystal, Michelle isn't the only one who has noticed you haven't been yourself lately. Has the mirrors stopped talking to you? Did you forget your little book, hmm? Is Steve Awesome avoiding you for fear you might blow up at him again?
We did give the fans a match they would never forget, but like Michelle, I don't think you would like to remember that night either. The better team beat the very best, and that is something Kat and myself should be commended for. I'm not holding my breath.
It doesn't really matter. You call these past three weeks “bad luck”? No, that's not it. The Gospel According to Mercedes says that we just branded your ass as a loser.
That's right, Crystal. You're a loser. And I'm glad you had enough courage to admit it. You did say you lost everything that mattered to you.
You've lost matches, you've lost your mind, you've lost my respect, and now you're about to lose something else...
Your career.
I mean, you are supposed to be retiring soon, right? And who knows maybe this match with Michelle could be your very last match.
Perfection never fails.
_______≈₪≈______
(The outside of an laundromat at night. Through the window we see a few people inside. Next to one of the larger machines, we see a woman having laundry thrown at her to put into the dryer. She catches a few pieces before holding her hands out to catch a few more items, two or three at a time. Some flew past her and ended up on the floor, which she scrambles to add to the pile. Sitting behind a desk is the laundromat operator, a man in his mid-thirties. He is wearing a wifebeater and reading the newspaper.. )
(Distracted by the plasma television on the wall, the woman stopped to watch the news. She grabs another article of clothing from the air without even looking.)
“First an earthquake, now a hurricane? Thank God I live in California.”
(A sweater slaps her in the face which she peels off.)
“Mercedes!”
“What?”
(Listening to music through headphone and dancing, Mercedes wanders over to where her cousin stood and looks up at the screen. The weather map was outlined in a mess of arrows and diagrams highlighting the hurricane's path. Mercedes removed her headphones to better hear the details before she started losing interest.)
Mercedes: This is bad. This is really bad, Carmen. I don't know if I'll even have an apartment when I get back.
Carmen: Would you like some advice?
Mercedes: Is it good advice?
Carmen: Depends.
Mercedes: I think I'll take my chances. So, what is it?
Carmen: Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.
Mercedes: Easy for you to say.
Carmen: I know, that's why I said it. What could possibly go wrong?
Mercedes: Do you want me to make you a laundry list?
(A tall, handsome man enters the laundromat with a bag of laundry over his shoulder. He is texting on his phone.)
Carmen: Not a bad idea. Why don't you get on that?
(The man walks into Mercedes. She looks up at him.)
Mercedes: Excuse me.
Man: Not a problem. (Carmen squints at Mercedes before filling up a cart with some more laundry. She opens another dryer as Mercedes leans on the door.)
Mercedes: (in Spanish) See that guy over there? (Carmen turns to see him doing his laundry. She turns back to toss in a sock) I bet I can take him.
Carmen: (sighs; in Spanish) Please don't. Not tonight. (shuts the door)
Mercedes: (in Spanish) What...?
(Waiting for her clothes to dry, Carmen is sitting down reading a magazine. Mercedes is next to her drinking a soda. The man joins them sitting two seats away..)
Carmen: (still reading; in Spanish) You should give him a striptease.
Mercedes: (in Spanish) Well, the night's still young.
(Mercedes take another sip of her drink.)
Man: (looking up from a folded newspaper; in Spanish) Really?
(Mercedes spits out soda while Carmen barely gives a passing glance.)
Man: Haven't I seen you two someplace before?
Mercedes: Yes, that's why we don't go there anymore.
Man: A week has seven days. How many do you have for me?
Mercedes: A riddle, for me? (feints astonishment) Well, how many days are in a year?
Man: 365.
Mercedes: That's how long I'll be avoiding you.
Man: Why aren't you married yet?
Mercedes: Why aren't you thin?
Man: I can always lose weight.
Mercedes: There's no time like the present.
Man: I agree. I'm attracted to yes and allergic to no. What'll it be?
Mercedes: Hmm, I don't know. You also seem to be attracted to food and allergic to exercise.
(Carmen is at the folding table and looks back at Mercedes, shaking her head and mouthing the word “wow”)
Man: How many people have you killed so far...with your smile?
Mercedes: Smile? Oh no, my weapon of choice is black with a hallow tube barrel, trigger, and it's very portable. I kind of lost count of how many I've killed, but I would have to say its more or less equal to the amount of calories you've gained...in a day. Shall we continue?
(Mercedes moves quickly away and joins Carmen. She throws in a second basket of clothes in the dryer and slams the door, dusting her hands off. Just as soon as she turns..)
Man: (squints at Carmen) She always like that? (Mercedes heads over to check the dryer)
Mercedes: Hey, I found an odd shirt in here.
Carmen: Looks can be deceiving. I'm actually the mean one. (extends her hand out) Hi, I'm Carmen. (He takes her hand) Nice to meet you. (Carmen smiles)
Man: I'm Luke.
Mercedes: Use the force, Luke. (carrying a basket full of laundry from the dryer)
Carmen: (Looking at Mercedes, than back to man) And that's my cousin, Mercedes. I'll be right back.
(The man tends to his own laundry as Carmen stops Mercedes at the door.)
Carmen: (sitting on a washing machine) That was mean.
Mercedes: [swivels her hips like Elvis; smiles] Thank you, thank you very much.
Carmen: Do you have to ruin every social situation I'm in?
Mercedes: What's wrong with that?
Carmen: Um, it's not normal.
Mercedes: Which is also just a setting on the washing machine.
Carmen: Mercedes, knock it off, alright.
Mercedes: Did you see how he was putting me through the spin cycle? What was that?
Carmen: I'm just glad you're not staining your image by airing your dirty laundry in public.
Mercedes: At least I have a working dryer at home.
Carmen: You must be having loads of fun at my expense. I doubt that dryer will be the only thing that survives Irene, though.
Mercedes: (setting basket on table) Am I getting a timeout?
Carmen: No, we're leaving.
Mercedes: What?
Carmen: NOW.
(Luke turns around seeing them going through the door.)
Luke: Leaving already?
Mercedes: (from outside) It's 4 AM. Do you know where your midnight snack is?
Carmen: (sheepishly) She's off her meds.
Luke: That was my first guess, too. So, when will I see you again?
Carmen: Um...
Mercedes: Please leave a message after the beep. Thank you.
_______≈₪≈______
Well, well, well. I have to admit that fifty percent of the time, I'm usually wrong, but when it comes to you, Emma Danielson, ninety percent of the time, I'm usually right.
What was it that you said? An opportunity to prove yourself? Well, you got your match against Alysson, you got your shot, and you did show everyone what you can do.
Choke.
What's more shocking than Alysson becoming Women's Champion is you, Emma, getting a title shot at the pay-per-view. When I heard the news, I laughed my ass off. What, was it Karoke Night and you invited Ruston Bourne for a few beers and somehow got him drunk so you can have this match? Because that's the ONLY reason why this could have happened.
Let's face it, sweetheart, your track record speaks for itself. This is your, what, fifth title match overall? And the one time you did win the title, you, um, CHOKED, in your first title defense. How the hell do you manage to lose to Trish Newborn? I'm still scratching my head over that one.
And I'm also scratching my head over why there is a certain name missing on Kelly Knite's poll question of the week. Oh, that name would be yours, Emma, because after Alysson is through with you, there's no reason why you shouldn't be the first inductee into the NCW Hall of Shame.
_______≈₪≈______
So, it all comes down to this.
The match everyone has been waiting for.
The moment of BWA's rise atop the women's division.
If only it were so easy.
I know, I know, you're probably going to say that the only reason why this match is before the main event is because you two are in it. And you know something? That makes me feel oh so much better. Because I want everyone to see the humiliation on your faces this Sunday.
Rayne, Ayla, I sat back and I thought about what you said last week, and you know it really made me think.
And then think again.
So, let me see if I understand this. If you manage to beat Kathleen and myself, that makes the two of you...the next pretenders to the throne? Okay, I think we're getting somewhere. Have any of you thought of the possibility that Leonard Fox won't fall for your intimidation? If a member of his own family couldn't do it, what makes you think you have any chance?
You talk about fakes? Ayla and Rayne, you're the biggest FAKES of them all. With a few exceptions, you question the other “Starlets” about their desire in the ring, what their purpose is in NCW. I've been called a lot of things, but one thing I am not...is a HYPOCRITE. But you see, ladies, you're in good company. Not too long ago, there was a woman who said she didn't care what anybody else thought about her, that she wasn't going anywhere. The one who claimed to be the brightest star in this company. Well, that star faded.
And now here you are, the both of you, criticizing me and Kathleen that because we haven't coaxed her out of her little safety net, we're not real champions? Here you are belittling us for something we refuse to do. Look at Shelly Taylor Jones. For weeks on end, her empty threats went unanswered until she finally realised that it was a waste of time.
I hate to disappoint you ladies, but that girl is not coming back. No matter how much you bitch and moan, she's done with NCW. But I can see why you would want her back. This whole “war” you've got going on is nothing but a smokescreen, and this is the part where you should really pay attention. You said it the first night you got here, Rayne. You and Ayla weren't here to build a division from the ground up, the only reason why you cockroaches are back is to state your claims as the best tag team in this company. You may have fooled everybody else, but I'm the only who saw through your smoke and mirrors, your pack of lies. And believe me, you both know that if it wasn't for that girl, your careers would have gone nowhere, and nowhere fast.
And I guess losing to that girl is being 'challenged by a real wrestler'. Finally, it dawned on me, it finally dawned on me – you two, and Emma, like having that girl around, don't you? You just love it when you find yourselves on the losing end against her. Rayne, you beat her once, but I would swear that you won the lottery or something with the way you always mentioning it. Every woman has their Emma Danielson moment, but you're forgetting one thing – neither you or Ayla could beat that girl when it mattered. You couldn't get the job done even with Tara Fenix to help you in that handicap match. And Ayla, in back-to-back pay-per-views, you couldn't beat her with three other people involved, let alone by yourself. As a matter of fact, it's funny that we're heading back to Madison Square Garden, because in that one-on-one match, you lost the Millenia Title.
Oh, and you tapped out that night.
Tap, tap, tap.
And we can't forget about the Riot match, where Emma won her only Women's Championship. Case in point, ladies, if at first you don't succeed, destroy all evidence that you tried. You two are back in this company not only to prove yourselves as the best tag team in the company, but so you can get that proverbial monkey off your backs, and that's beating that girl on the grandest stage.
You two helped built this division, you were the first tag team since its inception. Now ask me if I care.
Go on.
Ask me.
I guess you think I'm supposed to be impressed.
But I'm not.
People tell me that I should be singing your praises.
But I won't.
People say that I should be intimidated by the likes of you.
But I'm not.
How can you become what you already are?
No, not bitches. You've got that part down.
You're walking contradictions, the both of you.
But I can tell you what's not a contradiction. After last week, I thought the two of you would be satisfied. You wanted a REAL challenge, right? Well, since Kathleen and I are the REAL champions and you two are the REAL wrestlers, we are putting our titles on the line in a REAL match in exchange for the end of Bitches with Attitude.
Should be REAL fun.
No, no, Ayla. This Sunday, unlike a typical soap opera, isn't going to be scripted. There won't be time for a dress rehearsal or to read your lines, but I promise you that you'll have your precious fifteen minutes in the spotlight before I ship your ass overnight delivery in a crate back to "Muntreal". That's how you pronounce it, right? "Muntreal" not "Mahntreal".
I think we all come out winners here. And at match end, the four of us get what we deserve.
Kathleen and I getting respect.
And the two of you getting an ass-kicking of a lifetime.