Changes

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Off Camera

==========

The calm before the storm.

The calm before the storm is a phrase that refers to a period of peace before disturbance or crisis.  You could compare it to that strange, almost eerie stillness that seems to occur right before a major storm is about to strike.

Suzanna Smith, an administrative assistant at Jones Wrestling Incorporated, has worked with Kayla Jones for many years.  Samantha has been with Kayla during the good times and the bad times.  Samantha was one of Kayla’s first hires when the company was just a modeling company. She assisted Kayla in the transition from just a modeling company to being a managerial agency when Jones got the idea that she wanted to manage the careers of wrestlers as well as wrestle for herself.  Samantha watched Kayla during the ups and the downs of her wrestling career and she knows what Kayla, and really all Jones women, to be perfectly frank, are like when they succeed.

Victory and success for the Jones women tends to go to their head.  Success makes them think they are invincible.  Success makes them think that they are unstoppable.  Success makes Jones women think that no force under heaven in the earth itself can stop them.

Unfortunately, failure can also have a very severe affect upon the Jones women.  Whether it’s Angelica, Kayla, or Angelica’s daughters Marie and Corey, it seems that a storm comes whenever they fail.  Failure brings about a storm of angry feelings, negativity, and hatred from the usually happy-go-lucky Jones women.

And that’s putting it mildly.

The SCW pay per view, Violence In Vegas, has come and gone.  Kayla Jones went up against Ravyn Taylor with the United States Championship on the line.  It appeared as if Kayla perhaps had things well in hand going into the match.  Two Breakdown episodes in a row, Kayla left Ravyn lying in the center of the ring after a Kaylan Wind Kick.  Despite Kayla and her sister’s somewhat underhanded tactics, it did indeed seem as if Kayla was destined to become champion.  Even Samantha herself began to believe that Kayla was going to win the SCW United States Championship.

Samantha could only have imagined what things would have been like had Kayla Jones succeeded in upending Ravyn for the championship.  It is doubtful that you could stand to be around her for any period of time.  That’s how much her bragging and gloating would no doubt get on Samantha’s nerves, anyway.  But things did not turn out that way and Samantha does not have to worry about that.  Instead she has to fear about what may be potentially a worse consequence; namely, the rage that will accompany Kayla Jones losing to Ravyn Taylor at Violence In Vegas.

As much as Kayla may want to be champion right now, she has to put that match, that failure, out of her mind and focus on her next match against Jackson Bowker.  Unlike Kayla, Bowker had a successful night at Violence In Vegas, defeating Tommy Griffin.  Now he hopes to keep up the momentum with a win over a member of the famous Jones family.

Yes, that’s the match Kayla should be focus on right now but Samantha knows her well enough to know that she will still be upset and raging over the outcome of her own match at Violence In Vegas.  She is just sitting here at her desk in Kayla’s office doing paperwork, patiently waiting for the calm to pass and for the storm to come.

Just then the door swings wildly and violently open.  Samantha looks up from her paperwork to see Kayla Jones stomping and storming in angrily.  The angry red-head doesn’t even bother to speak to or look at Samantha.  She walks right past her and to her own desk where she sits down in the comfortable leather roller chair.  She props her elbows up on the desk and her head rests in her hands.

The quiet from Kayla is strange; too strange.  Samantha does not like it.  Something is wrong and, while logic tells her to leave it alone, she cannot help but inquire as to her employer’s state of being.  She and Kayla have worked so long together that she views her as a friend more than a boss and thus she cannot help but feel bad for her.  Samantha wants to help.

“Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Jones?”

Kayla looks up from her desk and glares angrily at Samantha.  If looks could kill, Samantha would be dead, and she knows it, especially from the ice cold glare she is receiving from her employer right now.  Samantha is now beginning to question the wisdom in her decision to speak to an obviously upset Kayla Jones.

“I’m not in the mood to talk, Samantha.”

Venom drips from Kayla’s voice, making it abundantly clear that she is not to be trifled with right now.  Samantha nods her head and goes back to her paperwork.

“I apologize, Ms. Jones…”

Kayla Jones stares at her administrative assistant for several seconds, contemplating what she just said.  Feeling guilty, the redhead sighs and nods.

“I’m sorry, Samantha.” Kayla states quietly. “I should not have snapped at you.  You’re only trying to help and what happened at Violence In Vegas was not your fault.”

Samantha looks up from her work and smiles at Kayla. “It’s ok, it’s just one match anyway, Ms. Jones, and that isn’t anything to get too upset over.  Is it?”

Kayla frowns. “Just one match?  Excuse me, Samantha, but you really don’t understand professional wrestling, now do you?  I mean, how could you understand when you yourself are not a professional wrestler?”

Kayla’s face contorts as she grows more and more intense.  The nervousness inside Samantha grows as well as she watches her boss’s ever changing facial features.

“This was a championship match, Samantha.  This was not just a simple one on one may the best competitor win.  This was about championship gold.  Do you know what being United States Champion would have meant for this company, for Jones Wrestling Incorporated?”

“I imagine it would have meant a great deal, Ms. Jones…” Samantha says, her voice trailing off.

“Damn right it would have meant a great deal.” Kayla’s voice rises as she grows more intense. “But I didn’t win the title, now did I?”

Samantha shakes her head. “No, you did not.”

“No, I did not.  But…”

Kayla gets up, standing up from the chair, and she begins to walk away from the chair and desk.  Jones makes her way towards her administrative assistant’s desk where she stops, and sits down on the edge of the desk.  She looks down at Samantha, smirking.

“…I have a plan.”

“A plan?”

“That’s right, I have a plan.” Kayla states confidently. “This is not the end for me.  This is a setback, but setbacks are just setups for a comeback!”

Kayla hops up off of her assistant’s desk and then walks back over to her own desk where she takes her seat again.  Samantha looks curiously at Kayla, frowning.

“Uh, Ms. Jones, may I speak freely?”

“You may.”

Samantha nods her head. “Good, because I consider you a friend and I worry about you.”

After staring at Samantha for a few moments, a smile forms upon her face.  Kayla is genuinely touched by this statement by her administrative assistant.

“Thank you, Samantha.  I had no idea.  I mean, I haven’t exactly been endearing myself to anyone lately.”

“You haven’t endeared yourself to wrestling fans nor have you endeared yourself to your fellow wrestlers but you have always treated me well.  You have treated me with the utmost dignity and respect from the moment you hired me.  I appreciate that.”

Kayla nods her head. “Yeah and I appreciate you too, Samantha.”

“Now look,” Samantha begins, her demeanor changing ever so subtly “I know you have your goals and your agenda, and I know it hurts to lose to Ravyn Taylor when a championship was at stake, but you need to move on.  You have more important things to deal with, to worry about than her.”

Kayla laughs ever so slightly under her breath. “If you’re talking about Jackson Bowker, then you can rest assured that I will kick that loser’s teeth right down his damn throat.”

Samantha shakes her head. “I wasn’t talking about him.”

The administrative assistant opens a drawer to her desk and reaches inside, pulling out a folder, the contents of which remain a mystery as she walks away from the desk, folder in hand, and places the folder upon Kayla’s desk.  Jones looks at the folder and then back up at Samantha.

“Open it.”

Kayla, without speaking, nods her head.  She takes the folder into her hands and opens it up.  Jones gazes at the contents with wide eyed surprise. They are photos of a woman, a redheaded woman whom Jones seems to know quite well.  After looking at the folder and its contents quite thoroughly, Kayla places the folder back down on the desk and looks up at Samantha.

“That’s Anastasia…”

“Not quite.” Samantha remarks. “Actually that’s her mother, her birth mother whom your father adopted her from.”

Kayla narrows her brow as she studies Samantha.  She is shocked that she knew all of this, seeing as she did not tell her any of it.  She has done her best to keep this within the family.

“How did you…”

“How did I know about her?” Samantha asks, Kayla nodding her head in response. “The answer to that is simple.  She came by our office for a visit.”

Kayla’s face goes white as a sheet. “She did?”

“I don’t know why she wants you to have these pictures but she asked me to give them to you and so I have.  She also wants to talk to you.”

“She wants to talk?”

“To you and your sister both.  But Ms. Jones…”

“Yes?”

“Be careful.” Samantha says quietly. “Something doesn’t seem right about this.”

Kayla pauses momentarily as she stares at the photos again.  Finally…

“Yeah…I think you’re right…”

Kayla sighs as she rests her head in her hands. “What have I done?”

Samantha gazes at her friend, her boss, Kayla Jones and she smiles warmly.  She feels bad for her and does her best to offer what little comfort she can, even though she cannot possibly understand the trouble Jones is going through right now.

The assistant gets up from her desk and walks over towards Kayla’s desk.  Samantha pats her employer on the back, gently, comfortingly, and speaks warmly to her, hoping it can comfort her.

“It’s nothing you did, Ms. Jones…”

“Kayla.”

“Huh?”

Kayla smiles. “Call me Kayla.”

“Ok,” Samantha smiles back at her “Kayla, it isn’t your fault.”

“Is it my father’s fault for not telling me and my sister about this?  About her?”

Samantha shakes her head. “No, I don’t think this is his fault, either.  I’m not sure now is the time to be blaming anyone, anyway.  Now is the time for answers.  And you know what you must do?”

Kayla nods her head. “I need to talk to Anastasia…or my father…”

“They are the only ones with any answers, Kayla.”

==========

On Camera

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The camera rolls. Kayla Jones immediately is seen entering the scene from stage left.  The beautiful redhead is wearing a figure flattering short lace dress that features a sheer mesh insert that accentuates her trim waistline.  The sheer hemline on the hip skimming pencil skirt adds to the glamour and a delicate sheer lace covers the romantic cutout back.  Her feet are encased in black high heeled sandals and her long red hair hangs unrestrained to shoulder length.  Her nails, both finger and toe, are painted a bright red color.

“Yes, yes, I am facing Jackson Bowker on Breakdown, and yes, I will address that piece of garbage in a moment.  But before I do that, I need to first address one other incident that occurred at Violence In Vegas.”

The redhead makes the title belt motion around her waist. “Notice something that’s missing?  Yeah, I do too.  The SCW United States Championship SHOULD be around my waist right now but, unfortunately, due to clear cheating on behalf of Supreme Championship Wrestling, I did not come out victorious and that washed up no-talent bat Ravyn Taylor is still champion.”

“It shouldn’t come as to any surprise that SCW would screw me over at Violence In Vegas.  The truth is that everyone is jealous of athletes from New England.  Just look at how the NFL tried to railroad the defending and soon to be future Super Bowl 50 champion New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady.  Deflategate was just an invention by the NFL to try and ruin a great team’s reputation.  But it didn’t work.  They have made it back to the AFC Championship and soon they’ll be in the Super Bowl.”

“As for me, SCW did not concoct a fake scandal to screw me over.  Instead they used computer technology.  You see, I never tapped out to Ravyn.  It only looked like I tapped out due to camera tricks and CGI.  I never tapped out because, you know, that move of hers doesn’t actually hurt.  She clearly doesn’t know how to apply it properly.  But SCW had its rotten referee call for the bell, end the match, and they even added the fancy camera tricks and CGI to make it look like I tapped out when in reality I did not.”

“I promised to make SCW and America great again by winning that United States Championship but, clearly, SCW wants to remain in a dismal toilet of complete and utter mediocrity and they want to drag this country down with it.  That’s fine, but I will not be a part of it.  So, as of now, until Ravyn Taylor is no longer United States Champion, I am renouncing my United States Citizenship.  I am now a citizen of the great Republic of Nauru.”

A wide ear to ear grin forms across her face as she winks at the camera.

“And I dedicate my next match, my next VICTORY, to the great people of Nauru, my new home!” She smirks.

“Now then Bowker, I’m not sure what part of you disgusts me the most.  There’s your cheesy as hell entrance.  Seriously, Bowker?  Queen?  The 1970s called and they want their song back, you pathetic bastard.  But I’ll tell you one thing for a fact, you will NOT be rocking anyone that night.  But you can expect to have your jaw rocked, rolled, and knocked off when I kick your in the damn mouth.  Or maybe I’ll just kick your stupid ass so hard that you’ll go flying out of the arena and up to the waiting arms of Megatron and  Optimus Prime.  That’s where you supposedly reside.  Cybertron?  Once again, who the fuck but a cheesy loser claims to be from there?  You’re an adult, Bowker.  At least, I thought you were.”

“Now I can give credit where credit is due.  You did succeed at Violence In Vegas whereas I failed, albeit due to a screwjob from SCW management.  Nevertheless, you were successful over that Griffin guy, right?”

Kayla shakes her head. “Beat someone of note and we’ll talk, Bowker.  I am a legend in this business and to me you are nothing but dirt underneath my heel.  It is an insult to me and my greatness that I am even having to face the likes of you.  This match is going to be your shining moment in the spotlight, your chance to share the ring with a superstar, a real live superstar in this business, someone who has done it all from training wrestlers, managing wrestlers, owning a wrestling company, and even wrestling herself.  You should feel honored, Bowker.”

“Well, normally you would feel honored by this, but the truth is that you should feel afraid, oh so very afraid, because the fact is that you drew my number at the worst possible time in your pathetic career.  I am severely pissed off right now and I am going to take all of my frustrations out on you when I kick your teeth down your god damn throat!”

“Now excuse me for being a little cheesy here, but considering how your entire make-up and personality is nothing but cheesy, I think I’m entitled to a little bit of it myself.  I’m going to end you on Breakdown, Jackson.  Why?  Because I can.  Watching you writhe in pain, watching you get carted off on a stretcher will make me feel better.  So yes, I am going to end you on Breakdown and I am going to do it for me, for my sister Angelica, and for the few loyal TRUE friends I have who continue to support me, unlike SCW, who have cast me aside like yesterday’s garbage and the fans, the fans who are so stupidly fickle that they don’t even know who they support from hour to hour on a wrestling show.”

She smirks. “I’m going to so enjoy beating the hell out of you in front of the fans.  I am going to enjoy leaving you a bloody mess in front of the fans.  And most importantly, I will enjoy standing victorious over your beaten and battered body.”

Change We Can Believe In

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Flashback

Off Camera

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About thirty years before Kayla Jones and her sister Angelica became active members of the Supreme Championship Wrestling roster, they were children, separated from one another, their mother dead, and their father missing.  They do not know where he is.

It’s probably best that they do not know where he is.  He is not in a safe place.  Bart Jones is on his own.  He looks older than he actually is and that has mostly to do with the hand he has been dealt.  Bart has loyally and proudly served his country as a member of the FBI.  He put himself at risk so many times without a second thought.  He genuinely wanted to serve and protect the United States and he expected that, if push came to shove, the United States would one day protect him.

Things have changed.  Now Bart is walking the streets of Moscow, Russia and he finds himself beginning to doubt whether his beloved country actually will come through for him during his own time of need.  By order of his superiors at the FBI, Bart has saved the lives of others.  But now Bart’s own life and livelihood are in danger.  The life of his family is in danger.

The Bratva, or Russian Mafia, has been the target of the United States FBI and the bureau put Bart Jones in charge of the primary investigation into their operations within the United States.  Bart was perfectly happy to go after them at first.  He was an idealist then.  The Bratva were criminals and it was his patriotic duty to bring them to justice.  So he put the pressure  upon them.  Bart Jones chased the Russian Mafia, their operatives, and their allies in Massachusetts, Los Angeles, and Miami.  He disrupted their narcotics, money laundering, and prostitution operations.  Shockingly enough, even to the FBI itself, Bart Jones had become the Bratva’s worst nightmare.

Needless to say, Bart Jones quickly became public enemy number one for The Bratva.  They needed to get rid of him and do it quickly.  The obvious, easy way to get rid of him is to kill him.  Failing that, they could just put a scare into him, scare him enough that he would back off.  And The Bratva knew exactly what plan they needed to put into place.

A Bratva hitman, named Dmitri Talon, went to Boston, Massachusetts and broke into the home of Bart Jones.  The plot was simple: if Bart was there, kill him.  If he was not there, kill whoever was there, thus putting a major scare into Bart Jones.

Talon broke in and found that Bart was not there.  Instead he found Bart’s wife Kelly and daughter Angelica.  He brutalized them both.  After the physical brutality, Talon took things to the next level.  He tied Angelica to a chair and forced her to watch as he raped Kelly.  After the rape, Talon murdered Kelly, all while Angelica was forced to watch.

The senseless rape and murder of his wife shattered Bart’s life in more ways than one.  His wife was gone.  His eldest child’s innocence was lost.  He was tasked with raising two children on his own while at the same time fighting The Bratva.  And what’s more, he realized now what lengths these Russian Mafia thugs would go to in order to stop him.

Kelly’s life wasn’t the only thing Dmitri Talon killed on that fateful night.  He also killed Bart’s idealism.  No longer did he feel as if his family were safe.  No longer did he feel as if his beloved country that he served loyally would protect his children.  He also no longer believed that he could take care of his children while at the same time going after The Bratva.  His children would always be in danger.

Bart knew he had to make some life changing decisions.  The decisions he made were unorthodox to say the least.  With the knowledge that The Bratva would always be coming after him, and thus his children would always be in danger as long as they were associated with him, he made the fateful decision to separate them.  He sent them to foster care with no personal knowledge or seeming care in his mind as to what the foster care would do with them.  Despite his lack of faith in the government, he had just put the safety of his two children Angelica and Kayla in the hands of social services.

Meanwhile Bart Jones finds himself in Moscow, during a bitterly cold Russian winter, tracking down members of The Bratva, specifically Dmitri Talon, the man who raped and murdered his wife.  And this isn’t about protecting and serving his nation, although he is using the FBI as justification for his quest.  This, for Bart, is all about revenge.  Bart had so much taken from him, now he will take as much as he can away from The Bratva.

“Net , ne nado!”

Bart’s ears immediately perk up.  As an FBI agent tasked with tracking down the Russian Mafia, learning to speak Russian became important.  He is fluent in Russian and knows precisely what this female voice just said…

He scans the area and finds on a nearby street corner a woman and man, and based on the woman’s attire she is clearly a prostitute and the man her pimp.  Normally Jones would keep out of this but seeing as prostitution is among The Bratva’s operations, he realizes that this could be an opportunity to stick it to his old enemies again.

Jones makes a beeline towards the man and woman.  Along the way he picks up on some of their conversation, which further convinces Bart of his suspicions…

“Vy zamknuty mne den'gi , suka.”

“Net, ya dal tebe vse, chto imel.”

Bart narrows his eyes in hatred.  He watches as the man places a hand around her throat.

“YA tebe ne veryu.”

Bart places a hand on the man’s shoulder.  This startles him enough that he releases his grip on the woman.  He turns to face Bart, incredulous to see him there.  The two stare each other down for a long, tense moment, while the woman stands in the background, clearly scared out of her wits.  Bart is the first to break the ice and he does so with English, suspecting that if this guy is indeed Bratva, that he would also know at least limited English.

“Leave her alone, friend.”

The man scowls. “What’s it to you?  Her man or something?”

“No.  Women like her don’t have men like me.”

The man smirks. “Then you know what kind of woman she is.  So again I ask, what is it to you how I treat her?”

“I have my reasons.”

“Well stranger, take my advice,” the man pulls out a blade “stay out of my business and forget the woman.”

Bart Jones chuckles lightly before whipping out a blade he had been concealing.  He thrusts it deep into the shoulder blade of the man and pulls it out.  The man collapses onto the ground.  The woman shrieks loudly but doesn’t run.  Bart stares down at the man and then kicks him square in the ribcage.  He kicks him in the ribcage again.  And again.  The man starts to cough up blood and Bart Jones then points a finger down at him.

“Tell your friends, tell The Bratva, that Bart Jones is here in Russia!”

Jones gets in between the man and the woman.  He waits as the man slowly pulls himself up.  He watches as he slowly staggers away.  Once the man is gone, Bart Jones turns to face the woman, who is still shivering, not due to the cold but due to fear, fear out of what just happened between this stranger and her pimp.  Bart holds out his hand as a token of peace and friendship, hoping this will comfort the woman.

“Ne boysya.”

“I…” the woman sighs “…I speak English.”

Bart blinks curiously a few times.  This takes him by surprise.  He did not expect a mere prostitute to know English.  The Bratva, yes, they would know English.  But their whores would have no need to know English.  Jones smiles warmly as the woman take his hand and shakes it.

“Excellent.”

He looks off in the direction of where the man ran.  He then turns and looks back at the prostitute and frowns.

“What was his problem?”

“He thought I cheated him out of the money I owed him.”

Bart smirks knowingly. “Did you?”

The woman pauses momentarily.  She isn’t quite sure how to answer and Bart can tell she is still fearful.  Perhaps she thinks that Bart is part of The Bratva himself and he too will tell her?  Jones shakes his head.

“Do not fear.  I am not part of The Bratva.  Quite the opposite, actually.  I am here to make their lives a living hell, much in the same manner they made mine a living hell.  I don’t care if you stole money from them.”

Upon hearing that the woman eases up some and finally nods her head. “Yes, I did cheat him.”

“Cheating The Bratva is a dangerous game to play.” Bart says half-scoldingly, almost as if he would say to one of his own children. “What made you take such a risk?”

“I had no choice, sir.” The woman says as she begins to weep.  Bart wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “There were no other options but to cheat them.”

Bart tilts his head to one side, studying this weeping lady very carefully.  He frowns.

“What makes you say that?”

“My daughter!” The woman exclaims. “I had to feed my daughter!”

Approximately one hour later, Bart Jones finds himself following the woman, who he would later learn is named Nicola, into a worn down, beaten up apartment.  This goes against all of Bart’s instincts.  This goes against everything he was taught by the FBI.  Can he truly trust this woman, who had worked as a prostitute for The Bratva?  Not really.  And yet he is following her into this apartment, this place she claims is her home.  It very well could be a trap and yet Bart Jones doesn’t seem to care.  There is something that tells him that he can trust Nicola.

As the two walk further into this place, the sound of crying becomes louder and more intense.  A child is here.  An infant.  This tends to lend more credence to Nicola’s story and makes Bart feel a little more comfortable as he follows this stranger into this strange place.  Yet still, he has to ask…

“Is it safe here?”

“The Bratva do not know where I live.”

Bart Jones gazes at her curiously before shaking his head. “You do not actually believe that, do you?”

“Of course they don’t.  The Bratva never followed me home.”

“The Bratva always know where you are at all times.” He points a scolding finger at her, almost as if to discipline her. “Believe me, I know.”

She shakes her head. “You give them too much credit.”

“You don’t give them enough credit.”

The pair make it to the end of a hall.  Nicola reaches for a doorknob but Bart Jones places a hand on the door to keep it shut.  He turns to face Nicola.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”

She shakes her head. “No, you never introduced yourself, sir.”

“My name is Bart Jones.  I am an FBI Agent tasked with tracking down the Russian Mafia and bringing them to justice.”

“Is that your quest, sir?  Do you wish to bring them to justice?”

He shakes his head. “Not any longer.  They sent a hitman after me.  They tracked me down, found out where I lived in the United States and they sent a deadly message to me by killing my wife.”

He sighs deeply, trying to control his emotion. “So if you think they cannot reach you here then you are foolish.”

Nicola is quiet.  Bart frowns and runs a hand through her long red hair. “I apologize for sounding harsh, but it is the truth.”

Nicola does not say anything.  Instead she simply motions towards the door and forces a smile upon her face.

“Let’s go inside.”

Bart nods his head.  He steps aside and allows Nicola to turn the doorknob and open the door.  The pair steps inside the door and Nicola shuts it behind her.  The crying from earlier is louder now, for it is coming from this room.  Nicola takes Bart by his hand and guides him to a shoddy, makeshift crib.  She reaches inside and produces an infant.  She gazes lovingly down at the child.

“This is my daughter…her name is Anastasia…”

Nicola turns to face Bart.  Suddenly she looks grim, almost as if she knows death is coming to take her.

“Mr. Jones, I know everything you have told me is true.  The Bratva are fiercely brutal individuals and I have had to work as a prostitute for them for a long time.  I was content to settle for this life.  But things changed.”

“Your daughter changed.”

Nicola nods her head. “Yes, Anastasia changed things for me, Mr. Jones.  I knew my daughter had to take precedence. ”

“So you took their money.”

“Correct.  And I thought that would work but clearly it isn’t.  I am endangering myself and my child.  Now I know I must do something else, something far more drastic.”

Nicola holds out the child towards Bart.  He takes one look at Anastasia and shakes his head.

“I cannot take your daughter…”

“Please!” Nicola is clearly begging now. “I cannot protect her from the dangers here in Russia!  Take her with you!  Raise her as your own!  Do what I cannot!”

Bart studies her carefully and closely.  Eventually he does take the child into his arms and he looks into the eyes of the little infant girl.  He realizes that the girl’s mother, Nicola, is very much similar to him.  He abandoned his two daughters, Angelica and Kayla, out of fear that he could not protect them from The Bratva.  Now this woman Nicola wants to give him her child for the exact same reasons.  It makes no sense and yet his hardened heart is warmed by her pleading.  Finally he nods his head.

“Yes, yes I will take care of her.”

==========

On Camera

==========

“Oh beautiful for spacious skies, for amber waves of grain,”

An American flag is shown in the background, waving proudly.  The chords of America The Beautiful can be heard as well as the sound of a female singing this traditional, patriotic song.  Eventually Kayla Jones steps into view from stage right wearing an American flag print sleeveless dress with a hemline that stops just below the knee.  Her feet are encased in red high heeled pumps.  Her long red hair hangs unrestrained to just below the shoulders.

“For purple mountain majesties, above the fruited plain! America! America! Your savior has arrived!”

Kayla smirks knowingly. “What?  Don’t like my revised version?”

Jones laughs nastily, the confident smirk remains etched across her face as she gazes deep into the camera.

“Get used to it my fellow Americans, because in these trying times of turbulent tribulation in this great country, during this period of great change, America needs a strong, firm, yet gentle hand to guide it into glory. And that strong, firm, yet gentle hand damn sure doesn’t belong to Ravyn Taylor.”

Angelica Jones, Kayla’s older sister, can be seen walking by in the background, behind Kayla, carrying sign.  The sign reads “New Leader. New Vision. New Direction. Kayla Jones For US Champion.”  She exits the scene while Kayla continues to speak.

Jones shakes her head. “Sorry, Ravyn, but your time is up.  The people are anxious for a change.  The people are tired of the same old, same old.  They want something new, something fresh.  They want change and I, Kayla Jones, will bring about that change.”

Angelica reemerges into the scene, still behind Kayla, and carrying a new sign, this time one that reads “Secure Your Future. Support Kayla Jones for New United States Champion.” She exits the scene while Kayla continues to speak.

“I will bring about that change because I have that strong, firm, and gentle hand necessary to guide the US Championship back to greatness, a greatness that was lost during Ravyn Taylor’s lackluster reign.  My hands will make the championship great again…”

She smirks and looks down at her foot “…or maybe my feet will!”

Yes, here comes Angelica Jones for a third time, and carrying a new sign.  This sign reads “Kayla Jones: Change We Can Believe In!” She exits the scene while Kayla continues to speak.

“As you should know Ravyn, as you and everyone else should know, when you or anyone else faces me one on one, you are always one kick away from defeat.  One kick away from taking that United States Championship away from you and placing it where it belongs…”

She makes the title belt motion around her waist “…around this sexy gorgeous waist!  Yes I can!  Yes I can!”

Angelica reemerges from the back, this time carrying no sign, and instead chanting “Yes She Can!” at the top of her lungs until she exits the scene on the opposite side.  Kayla smirks confidently.

“It’s morning again in Supreme Championship Wrestling and I will be your NEW United States Champion when I kick Ravyn’s teeth down her throat.”

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Off Camera

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You know what it’s like on those dark and stormy nights? The loud thunder makes your cat run for cover and you sigh in relief knowing that you don’t have to go out in that mess. Unfortunately, some people have to go out in that mess. Perhaps they desperately need to see someone or perhaps they work nights and they have to drive to work.

But for whatever reason, Annunciation Roman Catholic Church is open on this night. The priest, Father Fitzgerald, has decided to open up his doors.  If asked, he would tell you that he felt moved by the Holy Spirit to allow visitors to come and talk with him on this dark and stormy night. But the question has to be asked, what person in their right mind would go out in this mess to talk with a priest?  This clearly leads to the conclusion that there may be more to this story than meets the eye.

Kayla Jones is and has been a devoted Roman Catholic all of her life.  Going to confession is part of her weekly ritual.  She makes no pretense of being a good person who does not need forgiveness from a higher power.  Every week she comes to her priest in order to confess the sins of her guilty conscience.  In this case, her most recent guilt comes from the assault she perpetrated upon the United States Champion Ravyn Taylor at the conclusion of Breakdown.  Is she here to confess that sin to her priest Fr. Fitzgerald?

Not likely.  Kayla feels she is perfectly justified in her assault of Ravyn.  The Sisterhood, her and her sister Angelica, feel that they have been overlooked, overlooked far too long by SCW management.  They lost the tag titles to Autumn Valentine and Gable Winchester and yet they still have not received a rematch at the titles.  Clearly they want to push new stars ahead of them.

That’s fine.  Kayla will make her own impact.  She will make her own chances and her own opportunities, even if it is at the expense of Ravyn Taylor.  Some may question the ethics and morals of Kayla’s actions in attacking Ravyn, but these assaults have now given her a shot at the US Championship coming up at Violence In Vegas.  An opportunity Kayla will not take lightly.

And that leads us to where we are, why we are here, and where shall pick up. We open on a dark and stormy night in the parking lot of Annunciation Roman Catholic Church located in beautiful Boston, Massachusetts. The parking lot is completely empty except for one dodge viper. One has to wonder, why would anyone be here on this night in a storm?  The door to the dodge viper opens and Kayla steps out of the vehicle. Kayla is dressed appropriately for a meeting with her priest.  Kayla is attired in a long black skirt that goes down to her ankles, a white blouse, a matching black jacket, and black high heeled pumps.  She quickly opens up her umbrella and walks up to the front doors of the Church. Kayla fumbles around with her umbrella in an attempt to close it. After a few attempts, she gets the umbrella closed. Kayla looks down and takes a good look at herself, to see if she got wet. Thanks to the umbrella, she didn’t get as wet as she could’ve.

With one hand, Kayla flicks her long red hair back. Then she knocks on the front door and patiently awaits an answer. Unfortunately for Kayla, there is no answer. Kayla knows that the priest is there, he did, after all, call her and schedule this meeting himself; so she knocks one more time. Again, after a short wait, no one comes to the door. Kayla is getting a little impatient now. Kayla rears back and knocks for a third time. This time, the doors open and she sees a nun standing there. Kayla frowns as she sees who this is. It’s Sister Mary, the same nun who keeps trying to drive away the visitors when the priest stays over late. She’s tried to keep Kayla away on the last three visits Kayla had with Fr. Fitzgerald.

Sister Mary doesn’t have the most pleasant of looks on her face either. She sees Kayla and she remembers how Kayla just loves to stop by and bother poor Fr. Fitzgerald.  Fr. Fitzgerald has important work to be done and can’t be bothered by visitors like Kayla. So what if Fr. Fitzgerald came here tonight to talk to visitors like Kayla? Sister Mary knows that he has work to be done that can’t be interrupted by Kayla. So, with that in mind, Sister Mary attempts to shut the door on Kayla but Kayla sees it coming and quickly sticks her foot in the door to block it from being closed. The nun glares at Kayla. Kayla shoots an equally angered look right back at Sister Mary.

“I really need to speak with Fr. Fitz…”

“I’m sorry, but Fr. Fitzgerald is too busy at the moment.”

Kayla scowls at the woman of the cloth. “You’re full of it.  Father called me and asked me personally to come down tonight.”

“Sister Mary,” the two women both turn to look inside the church sanctuary and they see the priest, Fr. Fitzgerald, emerging, dressed all in black with a white clerical collar and a polite smile on his face “I called Ms. Jones here tonight.  Please, let her in.”

Sister Mary pauses a moment to glare at Kayla but then she reluctantly steps aside and opens the door, allowing Kayla to step inside. Kayla walks inside, not letting her eyes off of Sister Mary, until she steps up to the doorway to the entrance to the actual sanctuary itself. Kayla looks up and she can see the massive crucifix at the front of the church. Without taking her eyes off of the crucifix, Kayla quickly makes the sign of the cross over her chest.

Fr. Fitzgerald motions to the confessional booth. “Please…”

Kayla nods her head and follows the priest towards the booths.  Kayla enters one while the priest enters the other.  The sliding window opens and Kayla can see the shadow of the priest on the other side.  Kayla bows her head and crosses herself again.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned.”

“Later.”

Kayla looks up, looking surprised at her priest’s response.  “Excuse me?”

“There will be plenty of time for confessing later.” Fr. Fitzgerald remarks. “I have something far more important to tell you right now.”

Kayla chuckles lightly under her breath. “This is new.  Normally I confess to you, not the other way around.”

“I know how unusual this must be for you and truth be told, I am probably breaking my code of privacy and silence.  For this secret I am about to tell you has to do with a confession made by your father and even now I am agonizing mentally over this.”

Kayla furrows her brow. “Ok, Father, you’re beginning to scare me.”

“I apologize, Kayla, and I am certain that this will no doubt upset you greatly but at the same time you deserve to know the truth.”

“My dad?”

Kayla blinks several times out of confusion.  She is afraid to ask the question that must be asked.  Part of her wants to just get out of this confession booth, get in her car, and drive away, leave this place.  She only just recently made peace with her father and she does not want to hear about any secrets that may destroy that peace.  And yet still, the curiosity is there.  Part of her wants to know what disturbing truth Fr. Fitzgerald is referring to.

“What’s wrong with my dad?”

“Kayla, this is going to be shocking…” Fr. Fitzgerald’s voice trails off.

“I don’t care.” Kayla snaps at him. “You brought me out here and hyped this up, now you’re going to tell me what this big secret is.”

There is a long, drawn out silence.  It is tense.  Finally Kayla can hear Fr. Fitzgerald sighing…

“Every good Catholic should go to confession regularly.  You know this.  But tell me, Kayla, where do we priests go to confession?”

“I supposed you would go to other priests for confession.”

“Correct.  Your former priest, Fr. Larry Heiney, came to see me for confession the other day.”

Fr. Heiney was the priest of Annunciation Catholic Church for a very long time.  His tenure at that parish goes all the way back to when Angelica and Kayla were teenagers.  He stayed long after the family crisis that ended in the death of their mother and Bart Jones separating the children.  As a matter of fact, only recently did Fr. Heiney leave and Fr. Fitzgerald take his place.  Any secret regarding Bart Jones may not have come from Bart himself.  It easily could have come from Fr. Heiny, who had heard all of Bart’s confessions.

And yet if this is what is going on, if Fr. Heiney has confessed to Fr. Fitzgerald as he is alluding to,  it does indeed go against his calling and promise.  Kayla knows this and would hate to force him to break his vows.

“Fr. Fitz, you don’t have to break your vow just for me.”

“Yes I do.  What I was told is something I cannot keep to myself.  You deserve to know this truth.”

Kayla sighs. “Then tell me…”

“A little over a year after your mother’s death, your father returned to Boston but he did not come alone.”

Kayla’s blood goes cold and a scowl forms across her face. The mere idea of Bart sending his children away only to find some younger Russian woman to sack up with now that his wife was dead makes Kayla’s blood boil.  She does try to contain her anger.

“Who did he bring with him?”

“An infant.  A baby girl named Anastasia.”

Kayla’s eyes grow wide.  She knows that name.  She knows it all too well.  It’s the name of a woman she knows in the pro-wrestling business, a woman claiming to be the adopted daughter of her father.  Kayla never believed her because she never believed her father capable of it.  She was angry with this woman, this Anastasia, because of how she was implicating her father.  But now she sees that she may be right…and that makes Kayla all that much angrier…

“No…”

“Kayla, I ask you to please remain calm.”

“Calm?  How the hell can I be calm when I realize now that what I was told for the better part of my adult life was nothing but a damn lie?!  How can I be calm knowing that my father is a liar?!”

“I’m sure your father had a reason for his actions.  Talk to him.”

“Talk to him?”

“Yes, talk to him.” Fr. Fitzgerald asks pleadingly.

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him alright.”

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On Camera

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Kayla Jones steps into the scene from stage right.  The beautiful Boston native is wearing a tight black form fitting dress with a hemline that stops just above the knee, black strappy high heeled sandals, and her long red hair left to hang unrestrained to shoulder length.  Jones turns to face the camera and a smug, perhaps somewhat arrogant look is written across her lovely face.

“Is this not what you expected, SCW?  Is this not what you wanted to see?  Did you expect to see the hero, the good girl of The Sisterhood fighting valiantly for truth, justice, and apple pie?”

Jones scowls nastily. “Well too damn bad.  This is who you have to deal with from now on.”

“I have been hearing the same old pile of garbage from each and every fan and wrestler for the past several days.  ‘Oh Kayla, what is wrong with you?  You have been corrupted!  How could you act in such an irresponsible manner!  How could you do such a thing?’”

Kayla snickers nastily. “It’s funny, because SCW management expected me and my sister Angelica to be the heroes.  We fought Silas World.  We fought James Evans and Jake Starr.  We did everything they wanted.  We fought side by side with Standing Room Only on behalf of old school wrestling tradition and competition and old school wrestling values.  In the process we became World Tag Team Champions.  Now I’m a veteran.  I know better than to expect my title reigns to last forever.  I knew that The Sisterhood would lose the belts eventually and I wasn’t ashamed to lose the titles to a very good team like Autumn Valentine and Gable Winchester.”

“What I AM upset about is the fact that SCW never gave me and Angelica a rematch for those belts.  We were left to flounder in the mid-card.  Then SCW finally gave one of us an opportunity but it was Angelica, not me.  Now I’m not jealous of my sister.  I am happy that she is in the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament.  She earned at least that much considering that neither of us had received our rightful tag team title rematch.”

“But where was my rematch?” Kayla shrugged her shoulders. “Where was my opportunity?  I never got one and in all likelihood SCW was never going to grant me an opportunity.  Watching so many other individuals get their opportunities ahead of me, that was my destiny if I just left it up to Supreme Championship Wrestling.”

“Does it sound like I’m whining?  Yeah, it does.  But there are a few things that Jones Women are not.  One thing we are not are whiners.  We are not whiners.  We understand that whining and crying about our situation will only get us so far.  I believe in my heart of hearts that SCW has treated me and my sister wrong but we aren’t going to sit back and just take it.  We aren’t going to take it lightly.”

Kayla shakes her head.  “Not gonna happen.  You see, I knew that there was only one thing I could do.  I knew that relying on wrestling tradition and competition would not get me what I wanted.  More extreme measures had to be taken.  I knew that I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“No more hero.  No more nice girl.  From now on you get a pretty mean bitch that will take whatever she damn well pleases and that includes Ravyn Taylor’s United States Championship.  I could have walked away with it on Breakdown but I chose not to.  I took it from her because I could and then I dropped it right back onto her trashy body because I could.”

“You see, ladies and gentlemen, I am Kayla Jones and I am a member of the most talented wrestling families in the sport.  I can beat anyone at any time with a snap of the fingers.”

She snaps her fingers.  “Just like that I’ll kick Ravyn’s teeth right down her throat and it’ll be over.  I’m going to beat Ravyn for the title at Violence In Vegas when I kick her head clean off her damn shoulders.”

Kayla smirks. “SCW desperately needs a fresh face at the helm reigning as the United States Champion and that’s a fact.  Seriously, this is the same woman who thrusts the US Championship aside like a piece of garbage so she can get catty and fight with Kelcey Wallace over the World Championship.  This is the same woman who thinks saying ‘quote the raven nevermore’ makes her cool when in reality all it does is make her guilty of copyright violation.  Edgar Allen Poe, some other guy whose name escapes me, and so many other punk kids trying to be cool have used or are still using that catchphrase.  Face facts, you’re not original in any way, shape, or form, Ravyn.  I see it and even SCW sees it due to the fact that they gave me this title shot after I whipped your ass on Breakdown.  The only ones who don’t see it is your tiny little fan base, also known as Dark Fantasy, who cannot seem to remove their lips from your ass long enough to come up for a breath of air.”

She points a finger at the camera. “Then there’s you, Ravyn.  You are deluded, living in a dream world.”

Kayla chuckles lightly. “So perhaps Dark Fantasy is an appropriate name for you and your little pajama party girls because you are living in a fantasy land if you believe you can defeat me and retain your championship.”

“Because this is my time now, Ravyn.  You’re done and over with and the little birdie’s wings are going to be clipped.  SCW and the fans and anyone else whose head is not shoved up your ass, they are all sick and tired of seeing you walking around with that championship.  And that makes me their savior, not the savior they want but the only savior they are going to get, the only person ready, willing, and able of taking you out and taking your championship.”

“So prepare yourself, little birdie.  Prepare yourself for a repeat of Breakdown because just like last time we met face to face in the center of the ring, I will leave you lying.  Only difference is this time I walk away with the US Championship belt, because it will no longer belong to you, it will belong to me.”