Post by Solitaire on May 25, 2017 9:51:21 GMT -5
“I constantly find it amusing how everyone tries to quantify time and achievement as if those things are not only comparable- but complimentary.
While I can appreciate reminiscing as much as the next woman, it makes very little difference to simply say ‘I was this way and now I am this way’. It is on par with a caterpillar coming out of the cocoon as a slightly less ugly and far more irritating caterpillar but proclaiming that some life altering change had been made within secret insect goo.
Time doesn’t change you as a person, it does not contribute to your achievements.
A year is a long time granted and no doubt you have changed- however so has the temperature of the earth and the direction the wind blows, that doesn’t mean it is a world altering change regardless how you advertise it- which in this case is poorly.
Those changes you discuss, they are supposedly what has brought you to this moment and still I find myself rather blasé on the whole thing, that’s not said to undermine however I won’t simply lie either just to make you feel a little better about yourself before I choke you out.
You see Ms Millar, the problem here is that you honestly believe that people not only care, but are willing to indulge you in your self-serving process of constant public humiliation. With these declarations that you are suddenly a slightly less awful person is meant to shake people to their cores, however it simply leaves many lukewarm and wondering why you happen to still be employed.
I want you to understand though, that time in itself is not a measure of achievement- you’ve been here much longer and done, well, not all that much that stands the test of time. Defining yourself in that way is on par with saying that everything you have done matters more because you showed up sometimes.
Attendance isn’t key, consistency is. Talent is. Not being a sycophantic theatrical troll is.
Lets take my predecessor for example- it would be easy to define Ms Roberts solely by the length of her reign, however it would also be a detriment to her talent. Ms Camacho is another that could be defined by the length of time she held the top gold, Ms Smyth the new holder with the same length of reign as yours truly… I trust you get the picture.
Women who cannot be defined by the simple length that they have held gold, by those they have beaten to reach that place- I suppose to do so would be on par with saying that fourth time lucky at the Marquee title is a detriment to anyone with a shred of talent.
Yet you continually make the point of asking who I have beaten before now, rattling off names as though I am simply the sum of those I have beaten, that I am simply pigeonholed by the number of days I have held the Marquee title. Know this Ms Millar, unlike you I did not simply waltx on into a title opportunity because I wanted one- I EARNED my shot and I capitalized regardless of circumstances.
No doubt you would say the same thing if you hadn’t already managed to blow as many shots as matches I’ve had.
While I haven’t got the tenure beneath my belt, there is something that the women noted before happen to share with yours truly that you sorely lack Ms Millar.
In fact it’s a couple of things, but I’ll only focus on the one for the moment.
All have been fighting champions, and all have beaten you.
Of course- that’s not really a career defining achievement either, at least not these days, its simply par for the LAW course. While it can be argued that perhaps once you might have been the standard bearer, the bar perse for those looking to make their name- and maybe you can still claim to be, it is just a shame that you have no awareness to how low the bar you took so much pride in truly is.
You are no longer one to set the standard Ms Millar, you’d be wise to learn that quickly before it becomes painfully obvious that you are little more than a stepping stone in an ever deepening LAW pond. So you just go ahead and cobble together whatever fragile argument you can for why you think you stand a chance, blurting out anything that might make you sound less utterly inept at anything but disappointment and spew forth that you should be Marquee champion because… reasons.
It’s the only weapon you really have.
Please keep running your mouth Ms Millar, talking about things you have no understanding of… I can assure you that if you do though, my hyper efficient choke holds you so dread will quickly become the least of your concerns."
******
“I respectfully decline your offer.”
I have no doubt that Nikolay was not expecting the response, perhaps due to the presence of an audience and the official nature of my request to meet him like this- I wanted all to hear the statement from my own lips rather than gossip laden hearsay where the truth would become all manner of distorted and trite.
“Ms Reilley, surely you speak in haste. Perhaps you would like to consider the offer further-“
Maybe I was the only one who noticed, although it was difficult to say due to the noise of the group before me murmuring excitedly between each other while exchanging furtive glances in my direction, the venom in the Russians voice. No doubt he wasn’t exactly pleased, and was attempting to save some kind of face where it had already crawled halfway across the floor.
“- or perhaps it could do with some sweetening to change your perspective.”
It was difficult to tell if it was a bribe or threat he was proposing, I suppose it made little difference in the end considering the malicious glint in his eyes. His posse standing rigid, straight backed and staring forward as though nothing had happened and their boss hadn’t been somewhat humiliated by a much smaller being.
“While I appreciate the kind gesture, the concern and the co-operation you have extended during our brief dealings, I will continue to respectfully decline. I feel the present and the future of this establishment is better handled by the hands that built it. I trust you can understand my perspective.”
I hadn’t meant to hiss, an automatic reaction to the condescending nature of his speech. It seemed like everyone else had stopped listening, partaking in their own conversations now and yet we still whispered harshly despite barely being able to hear ourselves think over the din.
“I do, however I can assure you Ms Reilley, going forward you will want to have our protection. Atlantic City is indeed a rough place and I’d hate to see anything befall you or your establishment.”
Now that was a thinly veiled threat, I could tell that at least.
“Such as attempted arson?”
My allusion to his previous attempt to raze my building glanced off his bear-like features, leaving little more than a superficial verbal wound to his already battered pride.
“Perhaps, a tragedy is a tragedy regardless of its form, no? Now if that is all we have to discuss, I shall take my leave- I have other matters of business to attend to in the vicinity as much as I appreciate your warm hospitality. Unless you have anything of further importance to add Ms Reilley-”
“I cannot think of anything in this moment, however should I happen to remember later- I shall be in touch.”
Cold pleasantries were simply a last ditch effort at saving face no doubt and with a minimal hand gesture towards his cronies, Nikolay flanked himself with the suited goons once more. Towering over the pair almost comically so, I’d have liked to believe I would have found it far more amusing if he hadn’t repeatedly made illusionary threats towards myself and my business only moments before.
“That went well…”
One of my employees, pseudonym Amethyst however her real name was the equally charming Carmen, sidled up beside me with a mischievous grin. Her lip ring with dangling purple gem catching the low light as though winking impishly, watching as the three Russians exited without making a further statement beyond slamming the door in their wake.
Carmen was one of my managers, taking upon herself to keep things running in my somewhat regular absences, a confidant as such in matters like the one that had taken place.
“As well as I imagined it would have.”
“He’s not done yet, is he?”
Her question should have come across more foreboding, yet something about the singsong quality of her tone made it sound oddly casual. Something I found a modicum of comfort in, at least for now.
“I suppose that would depend on your definition of ‘done’, wouldn’t it?”
“You know what I mean.”
I did, although I didn’t verbalise as such. I didn’t need to, she understood. Perhaps the only one in the building who could have, she knew my ability to handle myself and had called upon my assistance on multiple occasions when patrons had become too rowdy for their own good. There was no doubt I could handle my own, however I had more than just myself to consider in this instance.
“He will do whatever he feels is necessary.”
“I don’t like it. Creep.”
Nikolay Vashenchko was more than a creep, although once again I chose not to verbalize my thinking for fear of escalating the feeling of dread. He was a narcissist clearly used to everyone around him bending to his desired whim, a chauvinist although I suspected that came with his heritage and most importantly a ruthless businessman- which I dared not share gave me the most reason to dislike him.
“You have every reason not to.”
“So what will you do if he, you know.”
“Precisely the same I imagine. Whatever is necessary.”
******
“It pains me to admit when I agree with you.
The Marquee title has a certain level of credibility, a way of making women into something more and thus elevating the title itself- you spoke of previous holders, including the aforementioned Ms Camacho and Ms Roberts. Both women who are entirely out of your punching bracket.
Ms Steele is another name I heard you drop admist the drivel, another diamond in the rough left buried beneath the crushing weight of a disappointing tag team partner and another name that I have defeated squarely in the middle of the ring.
Now I’ll admit that my record isn’t flawless, Ms Steele indeed leaves a certain mark which I cannot erase- however I did something that you have, on multiple occasions, failed at when necessitated. I learned from my mistake- and as such, I defeated the woman who has the sole right to claim a victory over me.
It doesn’t wipe away the mark, however it does prove I happen to have a greater capacity for improvement than you.
It must be something I’m sure, to find yourself pressed up against your own bulletproof glass ceiling while watching others soar beyond your visual range and knowing that you have reached the peak of your potential while others start not far from where your best happens to fall.
Of course it doesn’t stop you from trying, and try you do Ms Millar, an adequate lesson for your daughter also- although her teacher could always be a lot more qualified in discussing what it means to reach your potential when it’s not 4 feet off the floor.
That’s the thing about this show- Validation and it’s what we both seek.
You need to prove that you aren’t quite as washed up and broken down as everyone believes, you’re more so. As for me? I need to prove that my victory over Ms Roberts wasn’t simply a fluke based on personal circumstance and a lucky break.
Of course I’m already well on my way to achieving mine having taken the first steps, whilst you’re still trying to refigure how to tie your shoelaces without resorting back to Velcro. There’s no shame in is Ms Millar, some people just need a little more help than others…
I’m making great strides and you continue to make excuses as to why you haven’t already won- you got cheated, you underestimated your opponents, you just weren’t up to it on the night but any other night would have been different…
It always would have been different- right Ms Millar?
Change the circumstances, the night, the way you walked in and the order to which you put on your gear. Change everything and maybe the outcome might have changed- truth be told, the only way the outcome would have changed would be if you weren’t the supposed challenger.
I’ve proven it doesn’t take four attempts, I did it in one.
And yet you think that this time will be different, a new Crystal Millar and a new perspective, new friends and new underwear… Whatever your superstition happens to be.
A new champion, right?
If only I shared your optimism, that enthusiasm and real ‘can-do’ attitude. You’re the little no-hoper that could, puffing away up the Marquee hill only to learn that your best efforts are going towards a Sisyphean task.
Look it up, Ms Millar- I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.
Do your supposed friends share your confidence, or is it simply to your face while the scoff and judge once your back is turned. In truth it doesn’t really matter- if anyone tries to interfere I have no issue choking them out as quickly as I plan on doing to you…
Oh but of course, you aren’t planning on tapping- right? How thoughtless of me, my poor memory must be a shambles to forget that little gem.
You’ve admitted more than once that my submission style ‘clashes’ with you, that you don’t like getting choked out as though that’s more a unique though and not that of everyone not into erotic asphyxiation. You hate the way they feel and your pain tolerance is low… yet you work as a professional wrestler and determined that the woman you desperately wanted to face for her title happens to be a former MMA fighter and submissions expert.
It is no wonder people turn on you so easily with inept comments like those…
Allow me to fill you in a little, you will tap. If you don’t, you will break.
I don’t consider it to be such a difficult concept, you can claim that you’ll fight to the end- and I have no doubt about it- but you will fight a losing battle and your hand will be slapping the canvas and breaking another promise that you had no intention of keeping.
Just continue that streak of disenchantment and anti-climaxes, those close to you will grow used to it eventually I’m sure.
I don’t want you believing I’m simply all words, all cocky and running my mouth. I speak what I consider to be truth, and I won’t stand by and lie to you in an effort to preserve feelings- you can call me your juvenile names, your mediocre insults and acting like you somehow have earned the right to drop my name like some pipe bomb.
I won’t stoop to your level Ms Millar, I won’t allow my emotions to overcome me because I have none invested in you, I have none invested in this match because I know how to separate my business and my personal life.
I understand that your life must be kept at a constant level of drama for you to feel safe and secure, oh silver screen queen, however I find mine to be much simpler and therefore much more successful when I don’t create a tornado around me for the sake of creating a tornado.
You are a lost cause, a low standard and your precious little fanbase deserves to know and understand that they are wasting their time on a woman who will never deliver on anything she promises- you are all kinds of contradictory in a single breath while managing to disillusion all those with the misfortune of calling you a ‘friend’.
As for your daughter- she deserves better than you Ms Millar, and she has the right to know that as well.
So continue to try and rag on me for the names I’ve beaten that have since moved on, desperately try and call me on a win you ‘caused’ via distraction despite the fact the result was inevitable and you just couldn’t stay out of the spotlight for a whole five minutes. Even the champions challenge where I did more than you by managing to actually win a title, that automatically qualified me and while I swallow the lack of a win like a bitter pill- I can rest easy that I still managed to be better than you without having my hand raised.
Oh, and the tag match? It’s a team effort- Ms Smyth and I won as a team, regardless of who claimed the pin. Its just a shame that YOU let your team down, something I’m sure Ms Roberts won’t soon forget either in the lead up to tangling with Ms Smyth. I did my part, I contributed and you ended up flat on your back… I suppose its not that unusual though, is it?
Maybe you would have preferred to lose then and get the initial sting out of the way before Validation.
Honestly I’m not bothered either way.
Validation isn’t win or lose, Ms Millar. For you it’s just another loss.
Take a really good look at the Marquee for Validation Ms Millar, take a picture and save it as your screensaver if you must- because it’s the closest you’ll get to being the Marquee champion while I hold the belt. Hell, I’d rather beat you and then forfeit the belt just to win it again so you cannot have it- if only out of spite and a strong dislike of your determination to be a hypocritical drama queen.
Tap when I give you the chance Ms Millar, I’ll only be presenting the option once. Failure to comply will mean the next time you get locked in, I won’t be letting go no matter how you squeal, how you tap, how you beg and plead for the sake of your daughter.
If you think I’ve been a bitch before now, just wait until Validation.
xoxo Amirai"
While I can appreciate reminiscing as much as the next woman, it makes very little difference to simply say ‘I was this way and now I am this way’. It is on par with a caterpillar coming out of the cocoon as a slightly less ugly and far more irritating caterpillar but proclaiming that some life altering change had been made within secret insect goo.
Time doesn’t change you as a person, it does not contribute to your achievements.
A year is a long time granted and no doubt you have changed- however so has the temperature of the earth and the direction the wind blows, that doesn’t mean it is a world altering change regardless how you advertise it- which in this case is poorly.
Those changes you discuss, they are supposedly what has brought you to this moment and still I find myself rather blasé on the whole thing, that’s not said to undermine however I won’t simply lie either just to make you feel a little better about yourself before I choke you out.
You see Ms Millar, the problem here is that you honestly believe that people not only care, but are willing to indulge you in your self-serving process of constant public humiliation. With these declarations that you are suddenly a slightly less awful person is meant to shake people to their cores, however it simply leaves many lukewarm and wondering why you happen to still be employed.
I want you to understand though, that time in itself is not a measure of achievement- you’ve been here much longer and done, well, not all that much that stands the test of time. Defining yourself in that way is on par with saying that everything you have done matters more because you showed up sometimes.
Attendance isn’t key, consistency is. Talent is. Not being a sycophantic theatrical troll is.
Lets take my predecessor for example- it would be easy to define Ms Roberts solely by the length of her reign, however it would also be a detriment to her talent. Ms Camacho is another that could be defined by the length of time she held the top gold, Ms Smyth the new holder with the same length of reign as yours truly… I trust you get the picture.
Women who cannot be defined by the simple length that they have held gold, by those they have beaten to reach that place- I suppose to do so would be on par with saying that fourth time lucky at the Marquee title is a detriment to anyone with a shred of talent.
Yet you continually make the point of asking who I have beaten before now, rattling off names as though I am simply the sum of those I have beaten, that I am simply pigeonholed by the number of days I have held the Marquee title. Know this Ms Millar, unlike you I did not simply waltx on into a title opportunity because I wanted one- I EARNED my shot and I capitalized regardless of circumstances.
No doubt you would say the same thing if you hadn’t already managed to blow as many shots as matches I’ve had.
While I haven’t got the tenure beneath my belt, there is something that the women noted before happen to share with yours truly that you sorely lack Ms Millar.
In fact it’s a couple of things, but I’ll only focus on the one for the moment.
All have been fighting champions, and all have beaten you.
Of course- that’s not really a career defining achievement either, at least not these days, its simply par for the LAW course. While it can be argued that perhaps once you might have been the standard bearer, the bar perse for those looking to make their name- and maybe you can still claim to be, it is just a shame that you have no awareness to how low the bar you took so much pride in truly is.
You are no longer one to set the standard Ms Millar, you’d be wise to learn that quickly before it becomes painfully obvious that you are little more than a stepping stone in an ever deepening LAW pond. So you just go ahead and cobble together whatever fragile argument you can for why you think you stand a chance, blurting out anything that might make you sound less utterly inept at anything but disappointment and spew forth that you should be Marquee champion because… reasons.
It’s the only weapon you really have.
Please keep running your mouth Ms Millar, talking about things you have no understanding of… I can assure you that if you do though, my hyper efficient choke holds you so dread will quickly become the least of your concerns."
******
“I respectfully decline your offer.”
I have no doubt that Nikolay was not expecting the response, perhaps due to the presence of an audience and the official nature of my request to meet him like this- I wanted all to hear the statement from my own lips rather than gossip laden hearsay where the truth would become all manner of distorted and trite.
“Ms Reilley, surely you speak in haste. Perhaps you would like to consider the offer further-“
Maybe I was the only one who noticed, although it was difficult to say due to the noise of the group before me murmuring excitedly between each other while exchanging furtive glances in my direction, the venom in the Russians voice. No doubt he wasn’t exactly pleased, and was attempting to save some kind of face where it had already crawled halfway across the floor.
“- or perhaps it could do with some sweetening to change your perspective.”
It was difficult to tell if it was a bribe or threat he was proposing, I suppose it made little difference in the end considering the malicious glint in his eyes. His posse standing rigid, straight backed and staring forward as though nothing had happened and their boss hadn’t been somewhat humiliated by a much smaller being.
“While I appreciate the kind gesture, the concern and the co-operation you have extended during our brief dealings, I will continue to respectfully decline. I feel the present and the future of this establishment is better handled by the hands that built it. I trust you can understand my perspective.”
I hadn’t meant to hiss, an automatic reaction to the condescending nature of his speech. It seemed like everyone else had stopped listening, partaking in their own conversations now and yet we still whispered harshly despite barely being able to hear ourselves think over the din.
“I do, however I can assure you Ms Reilley, going forward you will want to have our protection. Atlantic City is indeed a rough place and I’d hate to see anything befall you or your establishment.”
Now that was a thinly veiled threat, I could tell that at least.
“Such as attempted arson?”
My allusion to his previous attempt to raze my building glanced off his bear-like features, leaving little more than a superficial verbal wound to his already battered pride.
“Perhaps, a tragedy is a tragedy regardless of its form, no? Now if that is all we have to discuss, I shall take my leave- I have other matters of business to attend to in the vicinity as much as I appreciate your warm hospitality. Unless you have anything of further importance to add Ms Reilley-”
“I cannot think of anything in this moment, however should I happen to remember later- I shall be in touch.”
Cold pleasantries were simply a last ditch effort at saving face no doubt and with a minimal hand gesture towards his cronies, Nikolay flanked himself with the suited goons once more. Towering over the pair almost comically so, I’d have liked to believe I would have found it far more amusing if he hadn’t repeatedly made illusionary threats towards myself and my business only moments before.
“That went well…”
One of my employees, pseudonym Amethyst however her real name was the equally charming Carmen, sidled up beside me with a mischievous grin. Her lip ring with dangling purple gem catching the low light as though winking impishly, watching as the three Russians exited without making a further statement beyond slamming the door in their wake.
Carmen was one of my managers, taking upon herself to keep things running in my somewhat regular absences, a confidant as such in matters like the one that had taken place.
“As well as I imagined it would have.”
“He’s not done yet, is he?”
Her question should have come across more foreboding, yet something about the singsong quality of her tone made it sound oddly casual. Something I found a modicum of comfort in, at least for now.
“I suppose that would depend on your definition of ‘done’, wouldn’t it?”
“You know what I mean.”
I did, although I didn’t verbalise as such. I didn’t need to, she understood. Perhaps the only one in the building who could have, she knew my ability to handle myself and had called upon my assistance on multiple occasions when patrons had become too rowdy for their own good. There was no doubt I could handle my own, however I had more than just myself to consider in this instance.
“He will do whatever he feels is necessary.”
“I don’t like it. Creep.”
Nikolay Vashenchko was more than a creep, although once again I chose not to verbalize my thinking for fear of escalating the feeling of dread. He was a narcissist clearly used to everyone around him bending to his desired whim, a chauvinist although I suspected that came with his heritage and most importantly a ruthless businessman- which I dared not share gave me the most reason to dislike him.
“You have every reason not to.”
“So what will you do if he, you know.”
“Precisely the same I imagine. Whatever is necessary.”
******
“It pains me to admit when I agree with you.
The Marquee title has a certain level of credibility, a way of making women into something more and thus elevating the title itself- you spoke of previous holders, including the aforementioned Ms Camacho and Ms Roberts. Both women who are entirely out of your punching bracket.
Ms Steele is another name I heard you drop admist the drivel, another diamond in the rough left buried beneath the crushing weight of a disappointing tag team partner and another name that I have defeated squarely in the middle of the ring.
Now I’ll admit that my record isn’t flawless, Ms Steele indeed leaves a certain mark which I cannot erase- however I did something that you have, on multiple occasions, failed at when necessitated. I learned from my mistake- and as such, I defeated the woman who has the sole right to claim a victory over me.
It doesn’t wipe away the mark, however it does prove I happen to have a greater capacity for improvement than you.
It must be something I’m sure, to find yourself pressed up against your own bulletproof glass ceiling while watching others soar beyond your visual range and knowing that you have reached the peak of your potential while others start not far from where your best happens to fall.
Of course it doesn’t stop you from trying, and try you do Ms Millar, an adequate lesson for your daughter also- although her teacher could always be a lot more qualified in discussing what it means to reach your potential when it’s not 4 feet off the floor.
That’s the thing about this show- Validation and it’s what we both seek.
You need to prove that you aren’t quite as washed up and broken down as everyone believes, you’re more so. As for me? I need to prove that my victory over Ms Roberts wasn’t simply a fluke based on personal circumstance and a lucky break.
Of course I’m already well on my way to achieving mine having taken the first steps, whilst you’re still trying to refigure how to tie your shoelaces without resorting back to Velcro. There’s no shame in is Ms Millar, some people just need a little more help than others…
I’m making great strides and you continue to make excuses as to why you haven’t already won- you got cheated, you underestimated your opponents, you just weren’t up to it on the night but any other night would have been different…
It always would have been different- right Ms Millar?
Change the circumstances, the night, the way you walked in and the order to which you put on your gear. Change everything and maybe the outcome might have changed- truth be told, the only way the outcome would have changed would be if you weren’t the supposed challenger.
I’ve proven it doesn’t take four attempts, I did it in one.
And yet you think that this time will be different, a new Crystal Millar and a new perspective, new friends and new underwear… Whatever your superstition happens to be.
A new champion, right?
If only I shared your optimism, that enthusiasm and real ‘can-do’ attitude. You’re the little no-hoper that could, puffing away up the Marquee hill only to learn that your best efforts are going towards a Sisyphean task.
Look it up, Ms Millar- I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.
Do your supposed friends share your confidence, or is it simply to your face while the scoff and judge once your back is turned. In truth it doesn’t really matter- if anyone tries to interfere I have no issue choking them out as quickly as I plan on doing to you…
Oh but of course, you aren’t planning on tapping- right? How thoughtless of me, my poor memory must be a shambles to forget that little gem.
You’ve admitted more than once that my submission style ‘clashes’ with you, that you don’t like getting choked out as though that’s more a unique though and not that of everyone not into erotic asphyxiation. You hate the way they feel and your pain tolerance is low… yet you work as a professional wrestler and determined that the woman you desperately wanted to face for her title happens to be a former MMA fighter and submissions expert.
It is no wonder people turn on you so easily with inept comments like those…
Allow me to fill you in a little, you will tap. If you don’t, you will break.
I don’t consider it to be such a difficult concept, you can claim that you’ll fight to the end- and I have no doubt about it- but you will fight a losing battle and your hand will be slapping the canvas and breaking another promise that you had no intention of keeping.
Just continue that streak of disenchantment and anti-climaxes, those close to you will grow used to it eventually I’m sure.
I don’t want you believing I’m simply all words, all cocky and running my mouth. I speak what I consider to be truth, and I won’t stand by and lie to you in an effort to preserve feelings- you can call me your juvenile names, your mediocre insults and acting like you somehow have earned the right to drop my name like some pipe bomb.
I won’t stoop to your level Ms Millar, I won’t allow my emotions to overcome me because I have none invested in you, I have none invested in this match because I know how to separate my business and my personal life.
I understand that your life must be kept at a constant level of drama for you to feel safe and secure, oh silver screen queen, however I find mine to be much simpler and therefore much more successful when I don’t create a tornado around me for the sake of creating a tornado.
You are a lost cause, a low standard and your precious little fanbase deserves to know and understand that they are wasting their time on a woman who will never deliver on anything she promises- you are all kinds of contradictory in a single breath while managing to disillusion all those with the misfortune of calling you a ‘friend’.
As for your daughter- she deserves better than you Ms Millar, and she has the right to know that as well.
So continue to try and rag on me for the names I’ve beaten that have since moved on, desperately try and call me on a win you ‘caused’ via distraction despite the fact the result was inevitable and you just couldn’t stay out of the spotlight for a whole five minutes. Even the champions challenge where I did more than you by managing to actually win a title, that automatically qualified me and while I swallow the lack of a win like a bitter pill- I can rest easy that I still managed to be better than you without having my hand raised.
Oh, and the tag match? It’s a team effort- Ms Smyth and I won as a team, regardless of who claimed the pin. Its just a shame that YOU let your team down, something I’m sure Ms Roberts won’t soon forget either in the lead up to tangling with Ms Smyth. I did my part, I contributed and you ended up flat on your back… I suppose its not that unusual though, is it?
Maybe you would have preferred to lose then and get the initial sting out of the way before Validation.
Honestly I’m not bothered either way.
Validation isn’t win or lose, Ms Millar. For you it’s just another loss.
Take a really good look at the Marquee for Validation Ms Millar, take a picture and save it as your screensaver if you must- because it’s the closest you’ll get to being the Marquee champion while I hold the belt. Hell, I’d rather beat you and then forfeit the belt just to win it again so you cannot have it- if only out of spite and a strong dislike of your determination to be a hypocritical drama queen.
Tap when I give you the chance Ms Millar, I’ll only be presenting the option once. Failure to comply will mean the next time you get locked in, I won’t be letting go no matter how you squeal, how you tap, how you beg and plead for the sake of your daughter.
If you think I’ve been a bitch before now, just wait until Validation.
xoxo Amirai"