Post by Admin on May 7, 2022 3:02:24 GMT
Cara Strader’s Firehouse
Redwood City, California
May 4th, 2022
(off camera)
“Well, here goes nothing, I guess.”
Veronica turns off her silver ‘98 Corvette V8 powered Pontiac Trans Am, looking out through the passenger side window through the rain as she takes a deep breath. The OCW TransAtlantic champion usually isn’t afraid of anything, especially after her trips through the PORTAL POTTY, entering a jungle to take down the biggest threat she’s had since becoming a champion in OCW. Still, coming face to face with her fraternal twin made her nervous with anticipation. She notices two Harley Davidson motorcycles parked in front of the large garage door of the two-storey former fire station. John Nash Strader initially purchased the building for a Redwood charter of the Brothers of Mayhem, but he pulled the plug opting for Reno, Nevada instead. So he gave the place to Victoria and Cara.
“Uncle John’s 45 Panhead really is a gorgeous bike, and that’s moms Fat Boy. Maybe Cara will listen with these two here… I hope.”
Before Victoria sacrificed herself to save Veronica and everyone from the Affliction, she wanted her to make amends with Cara and possibly start being nicer to Matthew Knox, their father. Ronnie had been attempting to contact Cara. She hadn’t had much luck, but Cara was still pissed off; after all, she was thrown from the roof of the OCW Arena.
“Alright, Vee, wherever you are… wish me luck.”
She opens the sportscar door, her purple and white Converse Hightops hit the wet ground, and the rain leaves wet marks on her purple denim pants. She reaches into the backseat grabbing her Samurai jacket that was Victoria’s while in the alternate dimension, and she slides her arms into it, covering the black CFH hoodie she is wearing. With her black Gucci purse slung over her left shoulder, she makes her way up to the entrance just to the right of the big garage door.
KNOCK KNOCK
After a few seconds, she is greeted at the door by her mother, Meghan Strader, who has her and Cara’s little sister, Lizzie, in her arms. She smiles at them both, and the little girl is excited to see her big sister and leans towards Veronica with her arms out.
“Hey you,” Veronica coos at her two-and-a-half-year-old baby sister. She takes her from Meghan’s arms as she leans in, kissing her mom on the cheek. “Hi mom, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she said to Meghan, who is a bit taken back by the kiss. Still, Veronica could tell it meant to world to the Strader Family Matriarch that she did that. Without Valerie perverting and corrupting her true nature was coming out.
“Well, I flew to North Carolina to see my babies and Dustin. He flew out here with the kids so I could ride my bike from my ranch on the compound,” she replies, answering her oldest kid’s question. “What are you doing here? Coming to try and make things right with Cara?”
“Yeah, I was hoping to start the healing process, ya know?” Little Lizzie grabs a bit of Veronica’s hair, coos and says a line of gibberish. Big sister kisses her on the nose, and the siblings smile at one another. Meghan, with her hands on her waist, smiles while watching the two of them. She motions for Veronica to follow her with a wave of her right hand.
“Come, sit with your Uncle and me. He’s upstairs in the entertainment room with your little brother,” she could hear the happiness in her mom’s voice. Veronica wanted to make amends with Cara for her mom’s sake as much as her own and to honour Victoria. She was definitely scared, which is something considering she willingly walked into a jungle to battle Supreme Machine.
Walking up the stairs, she notices Cara has hung photos in black frames of the family. The one at the top causes her to tear up a bit, as it is of Victoria and Cara. Still, she chokes it back and touches the picture of Cara and Victoria standing in front of the fire station from when John had given it to them. After a second, she catches up to her mom, who takes little Lizzie back as little Clay’s steel grey eyes light up when he sees his big sister. Veronica drops to her knees and embraces her little brother from his clumsy toddler running. Meghan sits down on the brown leather couch directly facing the large 100-inch wall-mounted 8k television playing the replay of TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES, which looks to be about halfway through the Craze Championship match. John is right into it. He looks over at Meghan, nodding and smiling before looking back at the screen.
“Hey kiddo, sorry just watching your Auntie in… Fifty Shades of Tarzan? What kind of dork comes up with that match? OH! Damn, Tamika went all out in this! I knew she had it in her,” he points up at the screen with a big smile, proud of his twin sister while Meghan rolls her eyes obviously still a bit jealous. Veronica stands up, little Clay in her arms and turns to look at the TV catching the spot where Tamika swings on the vine, spearing Mark Storm in the air. “Oh, right fucking on, sis!”
Meghan smacks John in the arm giving him that mom look.
“Watch it, I’m not explaining to Dustin that my kids learned how to swear from their Uncle John,” another solid smack from big sister puts the biker MC President in his spot as he does the old “ow, not so hard” while rubbing the area she hit.
Veronica watched her mom and uncle, which had given her hope when it came to Cara. Their mom didn’t grow up with the twins, John and Tamika. Yet, their bond was unbreakable, and they had strong relationships with one another.
“Yeah, but mom never threw Auntie Tee off the PWA Dome in St. Louis.”
No sooner did she think about Cara her nostrils got the hint of weed in the air and her very distinctive loud voice.
“What the hell are you doing in my home Veronica?!”
Meghan's eyes look up at Veronica, while John has learned how to tune out angry Strader women yelling and keeps on watching the PPV. She turns around to look at her sister, and she does not look happy, but Veronica knows she is lucky that Cara got stoned before coming home.
“Hey Cara. Can we talk?”
Pacific Coastline
South of Redwood City, California
May 4th, 2022
(on camera)
“I think I understand why you used to come out here now.”
Veronica sits on the hood of her silver Trans Am, her left leg up so she could lean forward, her arm on her elevated knee. The sun will be set in an hour or so, and Veronica was enjoying the cool breeze coming off the much cleaner Pacific Ocean she had come accustomed to while she was in that strange world OCW’s Portal Potty had taken her to. While it had been a week for everyone who wasn’t her or Victoria, it had been four months for them. Now, back in reality, without Victoria, she was learning to adjust having a head without three voices in it. Her hair gently blows back as we settle on her left side profile, and her glasz-coloured eyes look out over the waves washing onshore.
“Three years ago, when Vee started training to be a professional wrestler, I was beyond excited for Victoria as I was stuck as a passenger in a vessel I had no control of. I watched and learned, and when I took control completely the weekend of Death March when I won the TransAtlantic Championship I knew success was in my future,” she takes a small breath, her eyes squint slightly before continuing. “Since then, I have approached every match no matter the opponent, from the enhancement talent to Dylan Thomas to Bob Grenier to Kelson Hewitt to Supreme Machine, the same way: with my undivided attention to the match at hand.”
“You see, I am a true student of the game. Unlike many people who lost their jobs this week, I’m not looking to have promiscuous sex or getting involved in situations that look like they belong on daytime television that Great Gran Strader watches on television,” she says with a scoff as she turns her head to the left, which feels like she is looking us right in the eye. “No, I am like my mother and my aunt, the current successful defending Craze champion. I wake up thinking about wrestling; I eat wrestling, I breathe wrestling… it is absolutely everything to me,” her right hand raises up and in its grasp is the TransAtlantic Championship. “I took this title that had bounced from competitor to competitor since Ana Archia won it in July of 2014 against Jason Xavier and the man I am facing at Big Game Hunter, Dangerous Dan and gave it stability. Made it worth something. Now it’s widely considered the second most important title in the company. While I am sure Betsy Granger could’ve done what I have done, it wasn’t meant to be for her. I am proud of what I accomplished.”
Veronica slides off the hood of her car to her feet and puts the strap over her right shoulder as she walks toward the water. She looks at us again, the ocean being her backdrop with the setting sun, giving her a golden aura.
“See Cypher, one of the major differences between you and I is that I give my all to this sport that I adore. No matter who it is I am up against, I prepare. I watch old matches and previous promos and educate myself on who I will battle in the ring. When I watched your matches, you know what I saw?”
She smirks, shaking her head.
“I see a man, although I use the term loosely, who has all the potential in the world to be a top star in the business. I really do, but you piss it away by fawning over whatever console you have (or maybe it’s computer games that turn your crank), hacking into Lissie Hope’s Twitter account so you could interfere in a relationship you had no business being apart of instead of being focused on what matters in this business: winning. If you are going to piss around and only care sometimes maybe check out the XWF. Q Lazzarus will be waiting to show you all about the butt sex he apparently offers.”
She pulls out a soft pack of Marlboro Reds, taking one between her pink lips she lights it taking a long drag before exhaling into her words.
“In your promo for the triple threat match on April 11th’s Massacre, you talked about being in the coconut stipulation, but that wasn’t even your match. It was mine, and I won that match. That’s what I am talking about: no focus on the task at hand. That’s what I have been doing, Cypher. Focusing and winning. Since October, before the Purge and after, I have been setting a standard, and I set a record defending this title,” she says, tapping her title belt's faceplate. “You lack the focus to be a top guy in OCW, APWO or wherever it is you apply our trade. Part of that is being employed by multiple companies. Like the man I’m supposed to call ‘dad’, some can make it work. He has three titles across three companies because he is a whore to the business, but he has the ability to focus. Maybe that’s where I get it from, but nonetheless, it’s one of the major components to success that separates us. I have no doubt you’ll bring all you have to the ring on Monday Night Massacre’s main event and I imagine my Aunt’s dismissal of you probably aggravated you. Maybe you’ll actually find some of that focus you lack but it won’t be enough.”
The infamous Strader Sneer creeps across her face.
“I am The Great Marcus Welsh’s Chosen One for a reason. I have been proving why since December 5th, 2021. I know I’m not unbeatable, and eventually, someone will take my undefeated streak… but it won’t be you.”
She takes a long drag as she looks back at the water behind her as the sun begins to set. Looking back at us.
“I will do whatever it takes to win, Cypher. I have superkicked Dylan Thomas off a six-storey building. I put my hands inside Supreme Machine’s wounds ripping them open. I’ve leaped off the top of a cage after being electrocuted earlier in the match delivering a hard elbow to The Lost Stranger. I went through hell and back with Kelson Hewitt and Bob Grenier cracking open coconuts to free the referee to win that triple threat, you know the one you thought you were in? I’m not Easton Alexander or Sugar Valentine and you would be wise to remember these four words….”
“God forgives.”
“I don’t.”
With that, Veronica heads back towards her car and the TransAtlantic title fills the screen as she gets closer and the scene fades to the OCW logo.
