Post by Emma Danielson on Aug 19, 2012 2:46:47 GMT -6
We open on the eyes of Emma Danielson, staring out into the night with a supremely unamused expression on her face. She’s on the phone with someone, and she’s clearly not happy with her circumstances, as the razor-sharp anger in her voice communicates.
”I didn’t want to do this. You knew that. …***damnit, that does NOT give you license to sign me up for stuff behind my back!…you paid how much? …okay, Jesus, fine, I’ll go in. I probably look like crap anyway. …oh, very reassuring, jackass. I’m hanging up now. I hope you get your teeth punched in by Xander.”
Emma hangs up, sighing, and we pull back to see Emma standing outside a hall with a sign reading “Young Singles Speed Dating! 7:00-8:30” taped to the wall. She’s dressed in a nice button-up white shirt, the pink streak’s tucked back along with the rest of her hair in a ponytail, her makeup is nicely done, and the whole look is completed by a high-quality pair of jeans and nice formal flats. She sighs, pocketing her phone, and walks inside, milling about and grabbing her card. After a few minutes, the organizer steps up in front of the room and gets everyone’s attention.
”Alright ladies and gentlemen, here’s how this is going to go! Ladies, sit down at your assigned tables. Men, the number on the back of your card is the table you start at. Every three minutes, the bell will ring…”
He obliges with a demonstration, and Emma sighs as he continues, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
”…and you’ll move one table clockwise. No exchanging personal information. At the end of the night, you can give us the names of the people you want to connect with, and we’ll do the rest. We’ve got thirty tables’ worth of people to get through, so be quick on the draw! Are you all read y to find the person of your dreams?”
A few people cheer enthusiastically, but Emma just rolls her eyes, turning and walking to her table. She sits down, looking ahead and groaning. Thanks to the magic of editing software, we don’t have to sit through all 90 agonizing minutes. Instead, we can get the highlights and summary…and here they are!
Emma bites her lower lip, looking across the table at her partner.
”What do I do? Uhh…”
Several different flashes of Emma answering this question.
”I’m an athlete.”
“I’m a, uh, performance artist.”
“I beat the crap out of people for a living.”
“I’m what the Spanish would call una luchadora profesional.”
Some of her hapless suitors, trying to impress her, and Emma’s reactions to each , ranging from amused to disturbed to rather annoyed.
”I haven’t been caught driving drunk in over a month!”
”You know, as a medical student I have a very…intimate…knowledge of anatomy. That has its benefits in certain…situations…”
”Oh, I’m a film critic for the St. Louis Park Sun-Sailor. I had to review that dreadful film The Expendables 2. All of those savages using so much violence! Can you imagine anyone who lived like that?”
This time, we get to see the person in question as they sit down. It’s none other than Will Washington’s buddy Rocky Kingman. He sits down, looking around, and as he sees Emma’s face recognition dawns on him.
”Heeeey! I know you! We met at that one party Will hosted, right? Man, that was a hell of a time! So how you been, baby?”
Emma has to resist the urge to slap the taste out of his mouth.
”Yeah, we met at that party. You also beat the ever-loving hell out of my best friend with a tire iron a few months ago. This ain’t going anywhere, so why don’t you just use this as a piss break?”
After a few seconds, Rocky nods, standing up and hurriedly walking away as Emma groans, resting her head in her hands. A few moments of shame later, and we cut to Emma standing up as the last bell is rung. Instead of walking up and handing in any names, Emma walks straight out of the hall, heading for the parking lot. A few seconds after she clears the door, her phone rings. Emma answers, pissed off.
”Well, genius, I tried it, and it SUCKED. Hell, I met that one guy, Will’s black friend. He was putting the moves on me until I mentioned your client, then he clammed up real quick.”
Thanks to the magic of nCw technology, we get the other end of this call: the lovely manager of Andrew Jacobsen, Danielle Chase. Her voice communicates her frustration clearly as she addresses her friend.
”Dammit Emma…you found at least ONE person, right?”
”Nope. They were all a pack of creeps and freaks. I’m never wasting time on s*** like that again, you got it? Never again.”
Danielle sighs as Emma walks up to her ride, grabbing her helmet and jacket from a storage compartment under the seat.
”But hey, you said Rocky was hitting on you. You got positive male attention. That’s a step forward, right? Look, I still say this self-confidence thing is ridiculous. You’re beautiful and you’re smart, what the hell wouldn’t a guy want that you have?”[/i]
Emma mutters back, shrugging on the jacket and cradling the phone against her shoulder and cheek as she replies testily.
”I dunno, the fact that I can probably out-bench him? Look, Dani, I appreciate it…but I might have the match of my life this week. I don’t want to screw around with all these diversions. Say hi to Andy for me. I’m gonna roll. Gotta salvage this night somehow…time to hit the bar.”
She hangs up on Danielle’s protesting, shaking her head, and slings her leg over the motorcycle. Emma reaches back, pulling her hair out of the ponytail, and shakes it loose before pulling the helmet on. Danielson roars the cycle to life with a grin, and tears out of the parking lot, roaring down the road as we fade out.
”This is a referendum. Not just on the ideas that’ve been laid out by me, Aly and Ayla. No. This is a personal referendum. Do the nCw fans want me getting this shot? If they say they want Aly in there, or Ayla, or Mercedes…I’d understand. But if I get this chance, if the fans say they want to see Emma Danielson challenging for the nCw Starlets’ Championship…well, then I promise them they’ll not have wasted their vote. If I’m the one that ends up going out there, I promise you beyond a shadow of a doubt you’ll be seeing a new Starlets’ Champion at the end of the night.”
“How can I promise this? Because this chance is everything to me. This is redemption for me. I have a chance to reclaim what I once held, silence a persistent critic…I’ve spent two years being treated as a joke. I’ve heard every single half-brained insult under the sun. I’m tired of being defined by other people, by what I’m not…I want to be defined by what I am, and what I want to be is the World Champion. Because unlike you, Jenny, I’ve walked a long and hard road to get to where I am today.”
“I’ve had to fight for every single thing I have in life. I had to scratch and claw my way to this spot. I have had to fight for my spot week in and week out, and I will NOT squander anything that I earn, no matter what it is! So if I’m out there in the ring with Jennifer Williams, I will upend her ass and pin her one-two-three. It’s that damn simple. No complicated ulterior motives. Sure, I’d like to bring the title to someone who actually respects wrestling and competition, but my end goal is what it’s always been: to be the one at the head of this division.”
“That journey started a long time ago. I don’t think I ever really got to the top. I can trace that back to the ego problems of Jenny Williams’ role model…see, she thought she was better than the entire Women’s Division. She thought that we weren’t worth it. And that pissed me off. See, nobody’s bigger than this division. None of us are bigger than this title. We’re here for that. We’re here because that title symbolizes one thing: being the absolute best. It’s the culmination of years of hard work, of blood, sweat, and tears shed in the name of being THE BEST!”
“Jenny, I’m sure you’ve busted your ass to become the champ. You’ve worked hard to fit in here, to prove that you belong, but here’s the difference between you and each of the women that you’ve got staring you down right now: we’ve all been doing this for a while. Hell, the person with the least pro experience in this match is Ayla, and Ayla St. James is one of the hardest-working, most talented people I know. She’s been here since Day One, just like me, and just like me I know she’d love nothing more than to flatten your ass and pin you down for the count. Because we are WRESTLERS, plain and simple.”
“That’s the distinction, really. We’re wrestlers. We don’t have second jobs. We don’t get to walk away and go back to a boardroom position at a large company. If I left nCw? I’d be back to bingo halls and whatever other promotion would have me. We’ve dedicated our lives to this craft, and you? You just wandered in off the street. You’re an outsider, Jenny. That’s how you’ve defined yourself here…you’re not one of us. You’re not the kind of person that would be wrestling in front of twenty people at the local VFW just for the thrill of the ring. It got even worse when you decided to adopt the ‘gamer girl’ persona. Hint for you: I’ve seen it done much better, and it’s kinda sad to see someone become a pale imitation of HER.”
“You think taking out Crystal makes you a better champion? You think it intimidates ANYONE? It was desperation. You knew nobody bought you as a legitimate threat, and that was your panicked response. It just pissed me off, because no matter how much I insult her or she insults me, I still respect her. At the end of the day, I would take Crystal Williams over your ass ten times out of ten. No question about it. Because she knows what it’s like to have to walk that road. Yeah, she’s Hollywood, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t had to work for what she got, just like the rest of us.”
“Jenny, I might not be the one across from you. But no matter who it ends up being, I can guarandamntee that you aren’t going to be champion past A New Dawn. Mercedes Vargas is a sneaky, cunning wrestler, if a bit boring and unfunny on the talking side of things. Ayla St. James has a dedication to what she does that I’ve never seen before and I doubt I’ll ever see again. And Alysson Gardner? I’ve see Aly pissed off. This is more than just being pissed. This is a thirst for revenge. This is more than fired up, this is a walking INFERNO of anger. If the fans vote Alysson Gardner into that ring, there won’t be a Jenny Williams left at the end of the night. Say your prayers, Jenny. Hell is calling for you, and you. Will. BURN.”[/i]
”I didn’t want to do this. You knew that. …***damnit, that does NOT give you license to sign me up for stuff behind my back!…you paid how much? …okay, Jesus, fine, I’ll go in. I probably look like crap anyway. …oh, very reassuring, jackass. I’m hanging up now. I hope you get your teeth punched in by Xander.”
Emma hangs up, sighing, and we pull back to see Emma standing outside a hall with a sign reading “Young Singles Speed Dating! 7:00-8:30” taped to the wall. She’s dressed in a nice button-up white shirt, the pink streak’s tucked back along with the rest of her hair in a ponytail, her makeup is nicely done, and the whole look is completed by a high-quality pair of jeans and nice formal flats. She sighs, pocketing her phone, and walks inside, milling about and grabbing her card. After a few minutes, the organizer steps up in front of the room and gets everyone’s attention.
”Alright ladies and gentlemen, here’s how this is going to go! Ladies, sit down at your assigned tables. Men, the number on the back of your card is the table you start at. Every three minutes, the bell will ring…”
He obliges with a demonstration, and Emma sighs as he continues, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
”…and you’ll move one table clockwise. No exchanging personal information. At the end of the night, you can give us the names of the people you want to connect with, and we’ll do the rest. We’ve got thirty tables’ worth of people to get through, so be quick on the draw! Are you all read y to find the person of your dreams?”
A few people cheer enthusiastically, but Emma just rolls her eyes, turning and walking to her table. She sits down, looking ahead and groaning. Thanks to the magic of editing software, we don’t have to sit through all 90 agonizing minutes. Instead, we can get the highlights and summary…and here they are!
Emma bites her lower lip, looking across the table at her partner.
”What do I do? Uhh…”
Several different flashes of Emma answering this question.
”I’m an athlete.”
“I’m a, uh, performance artist.”
“I beat the crap out of people for a living.”
“I’m what the Spanish would call una luchadora profesional.”
Some of her hapless suitors, trying to impress her, and Emma’s reactions to each , ranging from amused to disturbed to rather annoyed.
”I haven’t been caught driving drunk in over a month!”
”You know, as a medical student I have a very…intimate…knowledge of anatomy. That has its benefits in certain…situations…”
”Oh, I’m a film critic for the St. Louis Park Sun-Sailor. I had to review that dreadful film The Expendables 2. All of those savages using so much violence! Can you imagine anyone who lived like that?”
This time, we get to see the person in question as they sit down. It’s none other than Will Washington’s buddy Rocky Kingman. He sits down, looking around, and as he sees Emma’s face recognition dawns on him.
”Heeeey! I know you! We met at that one party Will hosted, right? Man, that was a hell of a time! So how you been, baby?”
Emma has to resist the urge to slap the taste out of his mouth.
”Yeah, we met at that party. You also beat the ever-loving hell out of my best friend with a tire iron a few months ago. This ain’t going anywhere, so why don’t you just use this as a piss break?”
After a few seconds, Rocky nods, standing up and hurriedly walking away as Emma groans, resting her head in her hands. A few moments of shame later, and we cut to Emma standing up as the last bell is rung. Instead of walking up and handing in any names, Emma walks straight out of the hall, heading for the parking lot. A few seconds after she clears the door, her phone rings. Emma answers, pissed off.
”Well, genius, I tried it, and it SUCKED. Hell, I met that one guy, Will’s black friend. He was putting the moves on me until I mentioned your client, then he clammed up real quick.”
Thanks to the magic of nCw technology, we get the other end of this call: the lovely manager of Andrew Jacobsen, Danielle Chase. Her voice communicates her frustration clearly as she addresses her friend.
”Dammit Emma…you found at least ONE person, right?”
”Nope. They were all a pack of creeps and freaks. I’m never wasting time on s*** like that again, you got it? Never again.”
Danielle sighs as Emma walks up to her ride, grabbing her helmet and jacket from a storage compartment under the seat.
”But hey, you said Rocky was hitting on you. You got positive male attention. That’s a step forward, right? Look, I still say this self-confidence thing is ridiculous. You’re beautiful and you’re smart, what the hell wouldn’t a guy want that you have?”[/i]
Emma mutters back, shrugging on the jacket and cradling the phone against her shoulder and cheek as she replies testily.
”I dunno, the fact that I can probably out-bench him? Look, Dani, I appreciate it…but I might have the match of my life this week. I don’t want to screw around with all these diversions. Say hi to Andy for me. I’m gonna roll. Gotta salvage this night somehow…time to hit the bar.”
She hangs up on Danielle’s protesting, shaking her head, and slings her leg over the motorcycle. Emma reaches back, pulling her hair out of the ponytail, and shakes it loose before pulling the helmet on. Danielson roars the cycle to life with a grin, and tears out of the parking lot, roaring down the road as we fade out.
”This is a referendum. Not just on the ideas that’ve been laid out by me, Aly and Ayla. No. This is a personal referendum. Do the nCw fans want me getting this shot? If they say they want Aly in there, or Ayla, or Mercedes…I’d understand. But if I get this chance, if the fans say they want to see Emma Danielson challenging for the nCw Starlets’ Championship…well, then I promise them they’ll not have wasted their vote. If I’m the one that ends up going out there, I promise you beyond a shadow of a doubt you’ll be seeing a new Starlets’ Champion at the end of the night.”
“How can I promise this? Because this chance is everything to me. This is redemption for me. I have a chance to reclaim what I once held, silence a persistent critic…I’ve spent two years being treated as a joke. I’ve heard every single half-brained insult under the sun. I’m tired of being defined by other people, by what I’m not…I want to be defined by what I am, and what I want to be is the World Champion. Because unlike you, Jenny, I’ve walked a long and hard road to get to where I am today.”
“I’ve had to fight for every single thing I have in life. I had to scratch and claw my way to this spot. I have had to fight for my spot week in and week out, and I will NOT squander anything that I earn, no matter what it is! So if I’m out there in the ring with Jennifer Williams, I will upend her ass and pin her one-two-three. It’s that damn simple. No complicated ulterior motives. Sure, I’d like to bring the title to someone who actually respects wrestling and competition, but my end goal is what it’s always been: to be the one at the head of this division.”
“That journey started a long time ago. I don’t think I ever really got to the top. I can trace that back to the ego problems of Jenny Williams’ role model…see, she thought she was better than the entire Women’s Division. She thought that we weren’t worth it. And that pissed me off. See, nobody’s bigger than this division. None of us are bigger than this title. We’re here for that. We’re here because that title symbolizes one thing: being the absolute best. It’s the culmination of years of hard work, of blood, sweat, and tears shed in the name of being THE BEST!”
“Jenny, I’m sure you’ve busted your ass to become the champ. You’ve worked hard to fit in here, to prove that you belong, but here’s the difference between you and each of the women that you’ve got staring you down right now: we’ve all been doing this for a while. Hell, the person with the least pro experience in this match is Ayla, and Ayla St. James is one of the hardest-working, most talented people I know. She’s been here since Day One, just like me, and just like me I know she’d love nothing more than to flatten your ass and pin you down for the count. Because we are WRESTLERS, plain and simple.”
“That’s the distinction, really. We’re wrestlers. We don’t have second jobs. We don’t get to walk away and go back to a boardroom position at a large company. If I left nCw? I’d be back to bingo halls and whatever other promotion would have me. We’ve dedicated our lives to this craft, and you? You just wandered in off the street. You’re an outsider, Jenny. That’s how you’ve defined yourself here…you’re not one of us. You’re not the kind of person that would be wrestling in front of twenty people at the local VFW just for the thrill of the ring. It got even worse when you decided to adopt the ‘gamer girl’ persona. Hint for you: I’ve seen it done much better, and it’s kinda sad to see someone become a pale imitation of HER.”
“You think taking out Crystal makes you a better champion? You think it intimidates ANYONE? It was desperation. You knew nobody bought you as a legitimate threat, and that was your panicked response. It just pissed me off, because no matter how much I insult her or she insults me, I still respect her. At the end of the day, I would take Crystal Williams over your ass ten times out of ten. No question about it. Because she knows what it’s like to have to walk that road. Yeah, she’s Hollywood, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t had to work for what she got, just like the rest of us.”
“Jenny, I might not be the one across from you. But no matter who it ends up being, I can guarandamntee that you aren’t going to be champion past A New Dawn. Mercedes Vargas is a sneaky, cunning wrestler, if a bit boring and unfunny on the talking side of things. Ayla St. James has a dedication to what she does that I’ve never seen before and I doubt I’ll ever see again. And Alysson Gardner? I’ve see Aly pissed off. This is more than just being pissed. This is a thirst for revenge. This is more than fired up, this is a walking INFERNO of anger. If the fans vote Alysson Gardner into that ring, there won’t be a Jenny Williams left at the end of the night. Say your prayers, Jenny. Hell is calling for you, and you. Will. BURN.”[/i]
