By Any Other Name

[Mercedes Vargas]

Sunday Night Collision
Sunday, June 10, 2012
CenturyLink Arena; Omaha, Nebraska

Gloria Descolorida – Faded Glory

You ever had one of those days where you just don't feel like coming to work?

“Hello, wrestling fans. Carly Robins here for the Collision Post-Show.”

This is one of these days.

Carly Robins: “I'm standing by with former Starlets Tag Team Champion, Mercedes Vargas. And Mercedes, tonight spells another tough loss for you as we witnessed Amy Marshall's first victory against you here in NCW. With this being your fourth loss in seven matches since returning from a nearly six month absence due to a concussion, I just have to ask you, what are you going to do next?”

Good question, Carly.

Mercedes Vargas: “I'm going to Disney World!”

Carly Robins: “Really?”

Mercedes Vargas: “Why not? It's not like anyone is going to miss me around these parts. Want to come along?”

Carly Robins: “You don't need to tell me twice!”

Mercedes Vargas: “Um, I was being sarcastic? I hope you noticed that.”

Carly Robins: “Oh...”

Poor Carly. Even if she was twice as smart, she would still be an idiot.

Carly Robins: “Well, what's your reaction after seeing that kiss between Ayla St. James and Alysson?”

Mercedes Vargas: You know, I was really hoping to burn that image out of my mind, but thanks to you, I have to relive that all over again. Was this what Steve Awesome was talking about, HLA? If NCW wanted to have a “WTF” moment, there you have it. I bet this is trending on Twitter right now. Look, I could care less about what happened out there. All I care about is the end result.

Now, as far as Amy Marshall is concerned, I guess she needed this win more than I did. Obviously, she has her work cut out for her at the pay-per-view, so any kind of momentum is a good thing. But on the other hand, she beat Mercedes Vargas. What else is new? Three years from now, three weeks from now, three days from now, no one is even going to remember that match, let alone care. I know she won't, either.”

Carly Robins: “Well, the Reborn pay-per-view is one week from tonight, do you see yourself having some role at the event in Des Moines, Iowa?”

Mercedes Vargas: “Oh yeah, I do. I'll probably be backstage at catering serving all of those hungry fans who paid good money to see their favourite NCW superstars.”

And if those fans are really nice to me, I'll even offer them my autograph!

Carly Robins: “And you were being sarcastic there, too?”

Mercedes Vargas: “No, Caroline, that time I was being serious.”

A male intern named Dan exits an office carrying a cup of ice coffee and a stack of papers as he walks up to them.

Mercedes Vargas: And who are you?

Dan: Oh, I'm Dan. Nice to meet you.

Mercedes Vargas: Hi, Dan.

Without warning, Mercedes nails Dan with Be Still My Heart sending the papers and the ice coffee comically flying through the air.

Mercedes Vargas: Bye, Dan.

With a withering look at Carly, Mercedes storms off, kicking the cup which contained the coffee out of her way. Our scene fades with the backstage interviewer fanning Dan in an attempt to revive him.

_______≈₪≈______

Well, as I'm sure everyone saw on Collision this past weekend, live and in living color, your Starlets World Champion, Alysson Gardner, proved to the world just how mature she really is by, well, throwing another temper tantrum.

At my expense, obviously.

And as expected, everyone loved, loved, LOVED it. Kelly Fox ate it up. It sure made for great TV, didn't it, Aly? Act your age, not your shoe size doesn't apply to you, I guess. If only you saved all that energy for your title defence. I don't know, maybe you haven't quite recovered from that concussion as I thought. See, I'm not the opponent you're facing this Sunday.

It's Amy Marshall.

The same Amy Marshall who felt she got snubbed from the Road to the Gold tournament, the same Amy Marshall, who, unlike you, wasn't as fortunate to have a chance encounter with Ashlie, which turned into two opportunities at a title shot, the same Amy Marshall who just needed to do the only thing that mattered...

Pinning your shoulders to the mat for the 1,2,3.

I don't know if you've noticed, but you seemed to have pissed off a few people since your return, Alysson. But then, that's your style, right? That's your gimmick: “Biker chick who like to piss people off.” Here's the funny thing about that, you don't like it when we do it to you. See, what you're forgetting, Alysson, is that it works both ways.

Like I said, you pissed off a few people. And, sure, it's a short list right now, but give it a few weeks, give it a few months, and that list will start getting longer and longer.

Now, I know Kelly sees you as her most valuable investment. You're the golden girl, the main event, the biggest piece on her chessboard. She's backing you 1000% If this was Vegas, you would obviously be the odds-on-favourite. This Sunday at Reborn, you find yourself in a match Amy can't win, and you can't lose.

But let's play speculation for a moment: What happens if you do? What happens if you do lose, Alysson? I'm not saying that it might happen; just that it could happen. What then, Alysson, hmm? Are you going to throw a few more f-bombs our way? You're gonna say Amy was just lucky, that she got a fluke win over you? Or maybe you had it all planned from the beginning? Who are you going to blame now? You can't blame me. You can't blame Ayla. You can't blame Kelly. You can't blame the ref, the crowd, or even Amy. You want someone to blame...

you need only look in the mirror.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?

If you can't get the job done this Sunday, the answer to that question...

..won't be you.

According to you, you're going to make Amy walk into Reborn embarrassed she even crossed you, and show the world what she really is. What was it? “A weeping child, fumbling with bigger words, desperately seeking for some attention.”

Well, Alysson, if you don't deliver on your promise on embarrassing Amy like you say you will, if you don't destroy her, if you don't humiliate her? Don't even bother showing up after the pay-per-view. Then again, you're kinda use to doing that.

Not showing up.

Or do.

Do show up, Alysson. Because then you won't need to make up any more excuses, you ran out of those. All the prestige, all the swagger, all the hype, buying in on all your crap, everything that you worked for since your return will be all for nothing. Each and every week, you're going to have to look and listen to these people, including me, call you out for what YOU really are.

A transitional champion. Oh, too big of a word for you?

How about “paper champion”, instead. Yeah, that's much nicer.

Of course, you're going to try to prove us all wrong, aren't you, sweetheart? You wanted to save face as best you could, right? That's why you did what you did to me in our match. Crimson Spear, followed by your finisher at match end. Feel better now? Got that all out of your system? Good.

Look at you. You're just raring to go, aren't you, Cujo? I see you salivating, licking your chops in anticipation for what Amy has in store. Well, before you start to huff and puff and blow someone's house down, before you kneel at your bedside and pray tonight, before you even lay down and go to bed, before you close those pretty brown eyes, before you even kiss Michael goodnight, I want you to remember one thing, Alysson Marianne Gardner.

Two wrongs don't make a right.

I hope you have enough aggression left for your match. I hope to God that you retrain your title at Reborn. Because if you don't? If you don't win this Sunday, then everyone will laugh in your face. And the first person in line...

Well, that would be me. And hopefully you have a good dentist, because then, I'm going to knock your teeth so far down your throat, you'll find eating your own words almost impossible.

Now, you'll probably hate for that, but then...I don't care.

Three days, Alysson. Three days.

_______≈₪≈______

Saturday Night Trauma
Saturday, October 22nd, 2011
BJCC Arena ; Birmingham, Alabama

Podría ser peor...¿verdad? - Could Be Worse...Right?

We open our scene to the backstage area where we hear several voices all at once. Coming around the corner, we see a handful of EMTs as the body of Nathan Webb is being wheeled in a stretcher. Mercedes is walking alongside him in show of support.

Well, this night was going to hell.

EMT 1: “Don't touch him! Do NOT touch him!”

Mercedes: “Nathan, don't move, just stay still, alright?”

EMT 2: “Vargas, we said don't touch him! Out of the way.”

Mercedes: "Okay, okay.”

You know what? While we're at it, let's go ahead and make this official: My weekend is ruined. The first of many weekends, mind you. I lost again. Imagine that. I use to think it was surprising, but now it's gotten to the point where it's almost commonplace, not that anyone cares.

Mercedes stands idly by, dejected, as Nathan is being carried away.

Mercedes: “I don't even know why I'm here."

Well, OK, actually, that was a lie. I knew exactly why I was here, on Collision, a show I used to be on before, well, that forgettable night in New York City. After Stephanie Sanderson beat me the night before on Trauma – for the first time, too – I wanted to see Ayla St. James and Rayne falter in their match with Kelly Knite and Shelly Taylor-Jones later on that night. But right now, there seemed to be a change of plans.

As we head outside the arena, Mercedes arrives just as the EMTs is loading Webb's unconscious body into the ambulance. His head is wrapped due to the bleeding.

Mercedes: “Is he going to be OK?”

Driver: Please, miss, let us do our job.

The back door shuts and the driver doesn't even give her a second glance as he walks to the front, jumps into his seat, and starts the engine.

No one deserved this, not even Nathan. I almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost. This would have been the perfect time for a one-liner.

Sirens blanket the night air as the ambulance slowly drives off before gaining speed.

Mercedes: "'The Cold Spider.” Well, at least he lived up to his nickname."

Yeah, I'm not really good at this.

_______≈₪≈______

Open on Mercedes watching television in the living room of her apartment. By the expression on her face, she's not finding anything particularly interesting on. Sitcom re-runs, late night movies, some she have seen more than fifty times, or the occasional infomercial. Giving up, the TV screen goes blank and she tosses the remote at the far end of the couch.

"Six hundred channels and still nothing on."

Mercedes sighs and struggles to look up as the first words come out of her mouth.

"Rose, I...I guess you're right. I think it's time for me to come clean: I DID play a part in putting your brother on the shelf. If I wasn't the one who found him unconscious that night and called the paramedics, I don't think anyone would have known what happened to him. But, sweetheart, if you're planning on pointing a finger at me, then I'm sure three fingers are pointing back at you.

"You're Nathan's sister, aren't you? I mean, you two are supposed to be close. Though the way you two have been acting around each other, some might even say a little too close. I don't know, could be an incest thing going on between you two, but I'm going to withhold judgment on that.

"So, where were you that night, huh? You know what? Never mind that. This isn't my fault, but more importantly, Rose, this isn't your fault. If there is anyone who should be held accountable, it's your own brother. You have to wonder why all these unfortunate things are happening to him. Maybe it's due to a case of bad luck, or maybe there's a dark cloud hanging over over his head? No. No, that's not it at all.

"He's just too stupid to know when he's at the wrong place at the wrong time.

"It's why he usually ended up crossing Jake Conway's path, and paying dearly for it. Not once, but twice. And now he's picking a fight with Adam Knite? Yeah, Nathan is really asking for a death wish, alright."

She adjust her position now, lying on her side and with her head being supported by her hand as she smiles.

"But you...you're a different case, Rosie. I don't know what set Amy Marshall to snap at you like that and break your arm, but that's what happens when you play with fire, you get burned. I'm sure she has her reasons why she did it, but that's for another time.

"Let's talk about our match on Collision this Sunday. A match...I'm very much looking forward to for many reasons. Number one, just like I promised, we're going to be facing each other, one-on-one.
It just so happens that it came a lot sooner than I thought. That's right, Rose. No tag team partners, just the two of us. Well, three if you count the ref. The only things standing between me and you is the canvas between us, but don't you worry, that space is going to get smaller and smaller until I get my hands on you.

"Number two, we're going to find out if that arm of yours is really 100%. An injury like yours could happen again at any time. Number three? Well, that's going to be up to you. Because you're not going to be walking out of our match. No, you're going to be carried out. Now, how you're going to be carried out is really a matter of preference. Now, don't you move. I'll be right back."

Mercedes goes off-screen for a moment and returns pushing a standard wheelchair. She gestured to it with a sweep of her hands the way a model showcases a prize on the Price is Right.

"Would you prefer a wheelchair? Sure, they're kind of bulky, but it gets you around. Plus, you and Nathan can be a lot closer together as he takes you around to wherever your heart desire. No, doesn't sound interesting? Don't worry about it, I got the next best thing.

"You like to drive, right? Wait, are you...Are you even old enough to drive? Well, anyway, I'm going to assume that you are, Rose, because I got you a set of brand new wheels."

Again, Mercedes disappears before we see her riding what else but a power scooter. She goes around in circles a few times before facing the camera.

"I know what you're thinking. "Oh, Mercedes, you shouldn't have.' Oh, but I did, Rose, just for you. When the pace of life seems a little too slow, when you want to live on the edge, you can ride in style on one of these babies. Just make sure you remember to buckle up, it's the law, you know."

She smiles.

"Yes, Rose, you, too, can save on gas and the environment when you're on the go. But wait, there's more. If you act now, I'm going to throw in, yes, a handicap decal, good for up to a year. How convenient is that?!

"Couldn't we have put our differences aside just for one match? I was willing to forgive and forget, but no, you just had to be the selfish one and not only that, but you left me out there, causing me much embarrassment and anger. I think it's time we return the favour, yes? As much as it hurts me to say this, Sunday night is going to be a long night for you. I don't want this to end too quickly. Where's the fun in that?"

She steps out and with a flamboyant gesture and a wide grin.

"A rose by any other name is still a rose. With apologies to whoever sang that song, she's got it wrong. When I'm through with you, Rose, the only other name you'll have is 'cripple'".

With a smile and a wave at the camera, our scene fades.

"See you Sunday."