Mentioned: Andrew Ashton, Jonathon Collins, Demonica, Joey Jackson, Sebastian Boch, Da Man, Pete Ebdon, “Prime Time” The Vine, Illumina Emotoas, The Gorditas, Reno Frost, Piter Svoboda
Appearances By: None


D-Day
Countdown To Zero Hour


“The Wait” by Metallica


The Vancouver nightlife had already begun to bore me. Abused strippers, submissive bouncers and ass hole street racers just weren’t cutting it for me at the moment. It was time to go and find someone else to pick on. Idly, I thought about playing with my opponents in my up-coming match for the World Title. Then again, both of then were self-righteous and completely enthralled with themselves. Not my cup of tea. Andrew Ashton, openly, didn’t respect me. Fair enough. I didn’t respect him either, and not because of his companions. I may not have been in N.E.W. for very long, but I know a slime ball when I see one.

Then there’s Jonathon Collins: an ‘up-and-comer’, just like me without a Belt to his name and an ego that could feel a maximum capacity football stadium. It’d be fun to fuck with his mind. To slowly tear apart each layer of egotism and find the snivelling shell of a quote-unquote ‘man’. I cherish the idea. Too bad he was so full of himself that he can’t really see how large his head his. I’m honestly surprised he can fit through the door. Perhaps he’s compensating for something.

Obviously, I was the underdog going into the World Title match. All bets were against me. Well, all bets are off. Two male, block-headed friends against little ol’ me.

Standing at five feet, eleven inches, weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-eight pounds, the current N.E.W. World Champion: Andrew Ashton. Now entering the ring, standing at six foot, three inches and weighing in at two-hundred pounds, Jonathon Collins. And finally, standing at a mere five foot, eight and weighing in at one-hundred and forty-five pounds, some gothic bitch with the International title. I can so see that. It makes me giggle on the inside. For what am I? But a lone woman trying to hold her own against two brute, strapping young gents who are trying to make a different and be positive role-models.

Words of advice, gentlemen: the world isn’t what your deluded and narcissistic minds want to see. I’ll use the term seeing the world through rose-coloured glasses. Life is peachy. In your perspectives, anyway.

Andrew, your arrogance blinds you. Poor bastard. You’ve been in power for so long, you think that nobody is a threat. Well, listen up, Junior, I’m the threat, the challenge you’re looking for. I went up against Pete Ebdon, and won. Honestly, do you not think of me as a threat now?

Jonathon, after an absence, you’ve returned. I hope you’ve found yourself; found your center after the death of your wife. My condolences, by the by. Hmm… Apparently my sarcasm fails me once again. Pity. Pull out all the stops. C’mon, I dare ya. Hell, team up with Ashton to put me out of commission if you feel it necessary. I’ve been complimented a few times on my encounters with Demonica. Everyone else seemed to enjoy it. And how can you honestly say you didn’t pop a boner from it? I mean, c’mon now, if I had a penis and thought with it constantly, I’d sure as hell have one. Maybe you’re just a dominant at heart. In the closet, so to speak. Too afraid to try something new. Or, you’re just, dare I say it… jealous.

‘Tis a sad ay when two men help each other to dismantle a lone woman. I won’t deny it. You both are larger and, in turn, stronger than I. But since when has that honestly mattered? Let’s have a look, shall we?

  • Joey Jackson: two matches. Win ratio: 50%.
  • Pete Ebdon: one match. Win ratio: 100%.
  • Sebastian Boch: one tag team match with Joey Jackson. Win ratio: 100%.
  • Da Man: one match. Win Ratio: 100%.
  • “Prime Time” The Vine: three matches. Win ratio: 33% (National Title Winner)

    And there’s more. Those matches, however, are the ones that have stuck out in my mind as great accomplishments. All men, all strong, all holding longer careers than I. Not withstanding, I have lost in the past. But who doesn’t? Hell, I guarantee I’ll lose in the future. It’s the way life rears its ugly head to scare the shit out of you and knock you off your pedestal. Apparently, dear hearts, you’ve not been forced from your pedestal; kicked off your high horse; taken down a notch. Life has sent me to you, to teach you a proverbial lesson.

    Hell, any man who ‘gets beaten by a girl’, should feel wretched. This is my quest: to emasculate every male with an ego. Hell: that narrows it down to… well, everyone. With Demonica by my side, it’s a quest much more feasible. I’m not a woman scorned. I’m a woman with hopes and dreams: too bad I’d be arrested for castration. Cruel and unusual punishment: that’s where it’s at. I suppose those hopes shall have to take a backseat… for now.

    Y’know, now that I think about it, labels suck. I’m just me. I hear this Illumina broad has been talking about me. All I can say is that her disgust is poorly placed. If you can be bald, I reserve the right to do as I please. I stand out, yes, and by my choice. It’s not for attention, per say, but for personal expression. Do I honestly need to justify myself? I enjoy drawing the attention, yes. I get off on the weird looks. It makes me horny. Scared yet?

    The Gorditas. Do I even really have to say anything? I hear they’ve been talking trash, saying that I sucked Reno’s dick to get my place in the match with Asthon and Collins for the World Title. I assure you… if I were to suck someone’s dick, it definetly would not be Reno’s. Can you say, shrivelled old man balls?

    Svoboda… do you have a problem? I’ve been around longer than you. I’ve worked my ass off for this federation and I deserve this belt. Had that ass hole Sebastian Boch not interfered, I would have won anyhow. Can you honestly say you’ve beaten Jackson? On your own power? Without my assistance? I thought not.

    Nervous? Me? Nahh. I’m only in a main even match against two of the so-named ‘Untouchables’. World Title? I can taste it. Don’t know about Ashton or Collins. See, there’s a difference between want and need. I want the belt. Need, to me, means you can’t live without it. Looks like you’re a dead man, Jon.

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    The Day Of Breakout


    Guess who tracked me down? That’s right. Katie Winters. I needed to use the gym in the arena to prepare for my match. Winters had snagged me and dragged me into an interview room. If I wasn’t wrestling, I didn’t like cameras. I had managed to avoid interviews for every event save for my debut. I guess all streaks have to come to an end. One of the camera guys signalled for Katie to start the interview. I sank back into my seat, wincing at the lighting. Katie regarded the camera.

    “We’re here with the International Champion and World Championship contender, Gwenivere Jordan. Now, Gwen,” she began, turning to look at me. I shifted comfortably, folding my hands across my stomach. “How do you feel about winning the International Belt?”

    “How do you think I feel? After that fuckin’ draw a few weeks ago, I’m ecstatic,” I replied, careful not to stumble over my words in front of the camera. I really hated cameras.

    “Fair enough. You’re about to head into a match against Jonathon Collins and Andrew Ashton for the World Title. How have you prepared?” Kate asked. I sighed and rubbed the side of my face in thought.

    “Just relaxed. I find that I wrestle better when I’m not tense or over-stressed. I usually don’t think about wrestling until the day of. Helps me concentrate. It’s like cramming for an exam.

    “Andrew Ashton said that he doesn’t think you or Collins are a threat,” she said, gazing at me more closely. “What do you have to say to that?” I laughed faintly, splaying my fingers across my calf.

    “I’m afraid he is sorely mistaken. The lust for the World Title soars over friendship and hatred. Ask anyone in this federation and they will tell you they have eyes for the World Championship. If they say they don’t, then they’re bloody liars. He challenged Collins to hold back no punches, and told me to pull out everything I had. He’s either a masochist, has a death wish or thinks Collins and I pose no threat. Personally, I think he should go over his strategy a few more times. I’ve got mine. I’m set. I hope he’s ready to lose and be paraded around as a man who lost the World belt to a woman,” I said, not realizing I was truly babbling until it was too late. I shrugged my shoulders coolly, slumping into my chair.

    “One last thing that’s really been bugging me, Gwen,”

    “Hmm?”

    “Are you a lesbian?” She asked, almost nervously. I smirked a bit, shrugging my shoulders.

    “Does it truly matter if I am or not in the end?” With that, I got up and left the room, swinging my duffle bag over my shoulder. I brushed my fingers across the International title in my hand as I walked towards the gym.


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