The Ante (Cynthia Rose Promo for KotW)

(The camera opens inside a makeshift press room sporting Wrestleworld's insignia on a crest just above a podium on stage. In the press pit below a number of well dressed men, women, and non-binary types have congregated with cellphone cameras and recorders at the ready. They murmur among themselves in anticipation. A stage frightened Cynthia Rose peeks out from the curtain and studies the distracted room. After a hushed 'go' from an unseen Percy, Cynthia awkwardly jogs to the podium with her European Championship under her arm, looking not-so-thrilled with the situation. As soon as she sets foot through the curtain, the press immediately turns into a singular mass of camera flashes and writhing bodies. Taken aback, Cynthia stares ahead like a deer in headlights as she just stands tall enough to see over the podium.)

The Press: Miss Rose! Miss Rose! C'mon Champ! Over here! Over here!

(Cynthia stands on her tiptoes and leans over the podium to speak into the microphone.)

Cynthia Rose: Uhm...hi.

(After a brief pause from the shy introduction, the press go back into full swing of catcalling and snapping, each trying to catch her attention. Cynthia gives a nervous double take off to the side of the stage. Her shoulders hunch as she tries to hear Percy's advice over the crowd. Seemingly getting the gist of what he's saying, she nods meekly and turns back to the press. After scanning the crowd in confusion, she looks away and points at one of the press members at random.)

Dirt Sheet Writer: Hi! Gary I'm with Wrestling World Wide Magazine. I just wanted to ask you how you've enjoyed your reign as champion so far?

(The room falls silent awaiting Cynthia's answer. The demure champion finally finds the guts to turn back to the crowd. She scans it with a perplexed look, before planting her finger on her chest and blushing.)

Cynthia Rose: O-oh! Were you talking to me?

(A wave of charmed amusement goes over the crowd briefly before they all fall silent once more.)

Dirt Sheet Writer Gary: Yeah.

Cynthia Rose: Right right, that...that makes sense. Hnh. It's not like there's another European Champion in the room right now.

Percy: (whispering off stage) Get it together kid!

Cynthia Rose: H-huh?

Percy: (whispering off stage) Don't look at me! Talk to them! Talk. To. Them!

Cynthia Rose: O-oh...r-right. Well, it's been a real test of my abilities as a young and up-and-coming wrestler for sure. It's also taken it's toll on my heart and mind if I'm being completely transparent here.

Dirt Sheet Writer Gary: How come?

Cynthia Rose: Well I didn't take retiring Colt Montoya lightly for one. He tried me, pushed me, and tested my mettle and morality. Like others he tried to push me out of my comfort zone as a wrestler. Looking back, I feel as though he was trying to get me ready for men like Layne. I don't know though, I might be over romanticizing it. I tend to do that. Next question.

(Hands go flying, nearly making Cynthia jump backward at the sudden burst of life from this moving mass of media. Impulsively, she points at someone in the front row just to end the nerve wrecking experience.)

Dirt Sheet Youtuber: Hello, hollaatyaboi it's everyone's favorite youtube sensation Puke Bucket!

Cynthia Rose: Hmhm my, that's an interesting name for a youtube channel.

Dirt Sheet Youtuber: I regret it every day of my life, but enough about me: I want to know what your relationship with Percy is and if there are any other potential suitors on the horizon.

(The crowd lets out a comical 'wooooooo' as Cynthia once again finds herself looking off stage at Percy confused.)

Cynthia Rose: He's my trainer.

Dirt Sheet Youtuber: That's not what I heard. I heard through the grapevine that the two of you were hookin' up at Eden.

(A bigger 'wooooo' goes through the crowd as Cynthia darts her head around the room with a nervous and disgusted look on her face.)

Cynthia Rose: Yeah. To train. Most of Wrestleworld stays at Eden.

Dirt Sheet Youtuber: Oh heard.

(Puke Bucket turns his camera phone back at himself and mouths something into the lens while making an overly exaggerated expression before sitting down anticlimactically.)

Cynthia Rose: As for the other half of that compound question, the answer is no. I've been overly focused on my training lately and it hasn't left much room for romance...or friendship...or even making many new allies...saying hi to people in the hallway....It's not like I haven't tried to put myself out there in the past, but you've all seen how it went down with Kimberly Chase, and now I think Lillie hates my guts by association. Stephanie Matsuda has been gun shy and I can't blame her considering the year I've had. Speaking of, don't even get me started on Sweet Melody. The short answer is no though. No. No boyfriends, no girlfriends, no friend friends. It's the kind of sacrifice that's came with this title since day one of holding it. Every prospect, every iron in the fire, and every potential allegiance turned into a question of motive and a side-eye. I just want friends, ya know? I'm beginning to think there's something wrong with me. I can't even get Percy's girl...Percy's friend to hang out with me without her getting annoyed with my existence.

(Puke Bucket pops up again, his camera stretched out in front of him as he roots through his pocket.)

Dirt Sheet Youtuber: Oh fr fr?

Cynthia Rose: I don't know what that means, or at least I've never heard it verbalized before today. Why are you rooting in your pocket?

(Puke Bucket pulls out a small black velvet box, to which Cynthia puts her hands up and shakes her head.)

Cynthia Rose: N-no. Sorry Mr. Bucket. I'm sure you're a nice guy, I just don't-

Dirt Sheet Youtuber: Nah boo, s'cool! Ja boy just had to shoot his shot. Besides, he had ten gifted subs on twitch ridin' on him even doin' it. Pay up Wrestleholic37! WOOP WOOP!

(Cynthia tilts her head and stares down the youtuber with a mix of pity, disgust, and confusion as the oblivious semi-public figure starts scrolling through his phone.)

Cynthia Rose: Oh...Okay.

(Before the press can even raise their hands, Cynthia points at a tween aged female reporter in the middle of the crowd.)

Cynthia Rose: Howdy! What's your name.

(The young girl lets a flash of a smile cross her face before putting on her serious reporter scowl and looking at her notes written on her hands.)

L'il Dirt Sheet Podcaster: Hi! I'm Cassy Jo from the "Dad & Cassy's Classy Wrestling Podcast".

Cynthia Rose: Ohmigosh! I'll have to give it a listen.

Li'l Dirt Sheet Podcaster: Really?! Oh. Sorry. I mean, erm, thank you. Every view counts ma'am.

Cynthia Rose: That's a great outlook to have. What's your question?

L'il Dirt Sheet Podcaster: I was wondering if-that is to say or...or...

Cynthia Rose: Calm down. No need to be worried. Just pretend like it's you and I talking and no one else is here. Girl I sure am trying to do that right now.

(A bemused chuckle goes through the crowd as Cynthia looks down at the somewhat embarrassed looking girl poring over her sweaty palm, looking for her full note.)

Cynthia Rose: It's okay. Just ask me what you want.

(The young girl nods and takes in a big inhale.)

L'il Dirt Sheet Podcaster: I was wondering what you're going to do to beat Layne Driver at King of the World on Sunday?

(Cynthia blinks at the surprisingly matter-of-fact bluntness with which the girl delivered her question. After looking down for a moment in lost thought, Cynthia starts fidgeting with the belt clutched against her hip as she cuts her eyes back down to the girl.)

Cynthia Rose: Well...that's the million dollar question isn't it?

(The little girl furrows her brow and gives a nod as she hangs her head.)

Cynthia Rose: Don't be ashamed, it was a good question. It was the question that was so good and so big that only you could've asked it. Everyone else so far has danced around that elephant in the room as I watch it get bigger and bigger as the title nestled in the crook of my arm gets heavier by the moment. This isn't my kind of match. I don't think it should be anybody's kind of match if I'm honest. Since I won this title I've fought to preserve the sanctity of the ring that it represents by being an example for the division going forward. We shouldn't be out there intentionally trying to hurt one another. We should be wrestling to see whose the best at this sport, this craft, this artistry of ours. Then someone like Layne Driver comes along and turns the sporting nature of it all into a dog fight, the craft into some sort of cheap advertisement, and the artistry into a chorus of bones cracking and voices crying out in pain and anguish. He's trying to take what I've ate, breathed, and studied since before I even stepped into a Wrestleworld ring and turn ending the careers of others into a cheap hobby to fluff his ego.

(Cynthia clenches her fingers around the leather of her belt as she fights back her anger while trying to talk to this young lady.)

Cynthia Rose: I assume you're a fan of Wrestleworld and wrestling in general if you have a podcast?

Li'l Dirt Sheet Podcaster: Yes'm.

Cynthia Rose: Whose your favorite?

Li'l Dirt Sheet Podcaster: Nobi.

Cynthia Rose: Yeah? That's sweet. Nobi's a good guy.

Li'l Dirt Sheet Podcaster: Oh! but you're definitely in the top five.

Cynthia Rose: No no, there's no need to walk back your fandom. Nobi's good, maybe one of the best ever even.

Li'l Dirt Sheet Podcaster: You are in my top five though! You're my number four of all time.

(Cynthia clutches her chest with her free hand, now trying to fight back the tears as she smiles down at the little girl.)

Cynthia Rose: Then you'd know that nothing I do is designed to permanently harm my opponent, or break a bone, or knock them out. Even the Hickory Stump Puller...

(The little girl stares at Cynthia blankly as Rose ponders what she's going to say next.)

Cynthia Rose: I mean at the worst it might hyper extend a knee, but I'd never apply the kind of pressure or positioning to do that. I just...I just couldn't, you know?

Li'l Dirt Sheet Podcaster: Then how are you going to win?

(Cynthia clutches her head in frustration, letting the title drop from her side in the process and thunk hard onto the stage as Rose fights to stay upright as she runs her fingers through her hair anxiously.)

Cynthia Rose: I don't know...I mean don't know. Ohmigosh I really don't know.

(Reading the room, Percy steps out onto the stage, putting his hand up and waving the press toward the door as he consuls his pupil with an arm around her shoulder. Cynthia buries her face in her hands as her mentor leads her off the stage. The little girl continues to watch as the two leave with a look of concern on her face as the rest of the press files out of the room. As soon as Cynthia exits her line of sight, the little girl's eyes immediately shoot toward the title on the stage ad the camera fades out.)

"I just don't know what to do with myself"

(The harsh licks of Jack White on guitar bring the camera back to life on a shot of Cynthia Rose judo tossing a trainee on the mat. She holds their arm hesitantly as Percy motions for her to wrench it at ringside and the camera cuts out once more.)

"I don't know what to do with myself"

(A repeat of the opening riff seemingly revives the feed to find Cynthia standing over a wrestling dummy. She bends down, cinching her arms around it and locking her fingers at it's waist and begins to dead lift it off of the mat as an impressed Percy looks on, nodding in approval. Just as Cynthia's about to bridge back, she falls forward with a belly-to-back front slam and mounts it's back. Percy shakes his head and squeezes the bridge of his nose as the camera cuts out once more.)

"Movies only make me sad
Parties make me feel as bad
Cause I'm not with you
I just don't know what to do"

(The camera comes back up on Cynthia, still mounting the dummy from behind and applying a half-hearted rear naked choke. She relents and sits up out of the hold, slamming her fists into the canvas beside of the dummy's head in frustration as Percy rips a page off of his clipboard and tosses it over his shoulder. Suddenly the gym door opens and a tiny figure steps in unnoticed, barely holding the European Championship on her shoulder as she pitter patters across the ring mats. Once she reaches the ring she tugs on Percy's shirt tail. He looks around momentarily confused, before finally looking down and spotting Cassy Jo from the press conference. She motions for him to bend down. After a brief whisper in his ear, Percy picks her up and puts her on the ring apron. Hesitantly she approaches the now slumped over champ on the dummy, burying her face into her crossed forearms and gently lays the belt across her back. Cynthia sits up just in time to see the little girl pad back across the canvas and step through the bottom and middle rope as Percy holds them open for her. Cynthia smiles and then looks over her shoulder at the title laying on the small of her back. She watches as the little girl exits the gym and disappears out of her life. She looks over to Percy, her face stone serious as he gives him a nod and the camera cuts out again.)

"Like a summer rose
Needs the sun and rain
I need your
Sweet!
LOVE!"

(The camera cuts back on as Cynthia lays two jabs into a heavy bag on cue to the music stings as Percy struggles to hold it in place.)

"To beat love away"

(Cynthia lays in a two-piece and an uppercut, putting her full body into it as she nearly bowls her self over swinging wildly at the bag. Witnessing both the bag and his protege's structural integrity begin to fade, Percy swoops in just in time to catch Cynthia before she keels over swinging herself silly. The camera fades as the champion starts to do the same, but then springs back to life mere seconds later to more of a montage of her tossing dummies on their necks and then knee running across the mat to pick an ankle and twist it until the leather crinkles. Percy dives into the ring and lifts the dummy's hand in pantomime check for submission before signaling for the bell and lifting Cynthia's hand in triumph as the White Stripes go hard in the ending crescendo.)

"I just don't know what to do with myself!
Just don't know what to do with myself!
JUST DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF!
I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF!"

(The final ending lick rings as the camera cuts to Percy and Cynthia at poolside lounging in beach chairs and staring ahead at the water, both exhausted and covered with sweat.)

Cynthia Rose: So...you think I can do any of that to Layne?

Percy: You better hope so for your own sake.

Cynthia Rose: Yeah...

(Percy slides down his shades and settles back in his chair as Cynthia continues to stare ahead at the water, doubt still plaguing her face.)

Cynthia Rose:...Hey Percy?

Percy: What?

Cynthia Rose: I thought about dropping the title.

Percy: You did drop the title, dummy!

Cynthia Rose: No, I mean before the press conference I considered just walking away from it all and letting Layne and Ghost Organization just have Wrestleworld and the belt.

Percy: Why?

Cynthia Rose: You know why.

Percy: Then why stay? Nothing's changed. You still have to face Layne, you still have to break something of his to win, and you still have to compromise your own body,morals, and sanity just to keep that gold.

Cynthia Rose: I know, and I don't want to do any of those things.

Percy: But if your choice is to stay, then you have to.

Cynthia Rose: Right.

(Realizing he's not going to get any r & r, Percy yanks off his sunglasses and sits up off of the lounge chair, straddling it as he faces his conflicted pupil.)

Percy: Then I repeat: why stay?

Cynthia Rose: I don't know...because of that little girl?

Percy: You sound unsure of that reason. Care to elaborate and convince the both of us?

Cynthia Rose: Ohmigosh, nosy much?

Percy: I was trying to get some rest. You and your conscience wouldn't shut the hell up though.

Cynthia Rose: Language.

Percy: It's in the bible!

Cynthia Rose: What would it mean to her if her fourth favorite wrestler of all time buckled under the pressure of a man looking to hurt her or run her off? What kind of message does that send to her and any other girl or boy watching? Bend to the will of others? don't stand up for yourself? Give up on a dream that's worth the sacrifice when it gets too hard to go on?

Percy: Listen, whatever bull you've gotta tell yourself to feel good about hurting Layne Driver's fine by me. I myself wouldn't need to make up excuses, but that's me.

Cynthia Rose: It's not bull, Percy. That little girl looked up to me.

Percy: Oh yeah? give 'er another two years. I'm sure she'll hit a growth spurt and leave you down low before she makes it to high school.

Cynthia Rose: Percy...

Percy: I get it. You want something worthwhile to be on the line. You feel bad if it's just the gold or fighting for your own self-preservation because you're afraid it's going to ruin your chances for canonization into sainthood or whatever.

Cynthia Rose: PERCY!

Percy: Sometimes it's just as cut and dry as us versus them, kid. Survival is a worthy enough motivator. Nobody's going to fault you for steppin' on Layne Driver's pinky finger and breaking it just so that he doesn't do worse to you.

Cynthia Rose: It still feels cheap.

Percy: Because it is cheap. Layne made the stakes in his favor. He as everything to gain and nothing to lose, or at least he doesn't if you buckle to the weight of your own moral code and let him do as he pleases despite that act within itself going against your moral code as well.

Cynthia Rose: I don't hold everyone up to my standards. Ohmigosh, that sounded worse than I meant it to...

Percy: Good! They're not going to live up to them! Listen, you talk about Colt Montoya, Nasir Moore, Cloud, and all of these other competitors like they did you a favor by going rough with you. Well, if that were even remotely true and they weren't just selfish pricks taking advantage of a young girl's goodwill and hero worship, then you'd be spitting in the face of everything they tried to teach you by just laying down and letting Layne Driver stretch you.

Cynthia Rose: Ugh. Percy, I'm not dumb.

Percy: Oh yeah? then quit acting like you have a choice in this matter. You want to live by the rules of the ring and follow some self-righteous code? Fine. The rules for winning this match are to break your opponent's bones! ABIDE BY THEM!

(Percy gets up in a huff and starts walking back toward the building.)

Cynthia Rose: Where are you going?

(Agitated, Percy turns back around and leans in as he yells toward his protege.)

Percy:TO SLEEP IN MY FUCKING PENTHOUSE WHILE I STILL CAN WITHOUT SOME BROKEN LITTLE WHITE GIRL TAKIN' UP SPACE IN MY BED! MY BED! NOT YOURS!

Cynthia Rose: Jeesh, say it don't spray it...AND ALSO LANGUAGE!

(Percy flips the bird over his shoulder as he heads into the lobby. Cynthia responds in kind with a long and farty raspberry in his general direction. Out of the corner of her eye she catches sight of the camera, blushes, and slurps her tongue back into her mouth.)

Cynthia Rose: Hi.

(Cynthia snaps back around, hugging her knee as she sprawls out on the poolside lounge chair and stares ahead at the rippling water.)

Cynthia Rose: I don't know what to do, Layne. I've found myself wondering how I'm going to get out of this one. Percy says I should break something, and I read in that little girl's eyes that I shouldn't let you break me. So we're at an impasse where one way or the other I'm going to have to budge because you're too stubborn, unwilling, and afraid to face me one on one again because you've already seen what happens when we play by the rules. It didn't have to be this way. I don't say that to reaffirm myself. I say that because I feel like you need to hear it one last time before we both live with the repercussions of this match. Win, lose, or draw this is going to change us, change the way things are done in Wrestleworld, and leave us with something broken inside. Now I know that if I win I'll still feel something inside of me snap and change, and I'm not ready for that Layne. I'm not ready to see what I do when I realize what broken joints sticking out of flesh feels like, or what the sensation of a bone snapping in my own hands will turn me into. What if I hate it so much that I have to give it all up anyway out of guilt and trauma? What if...what if I feel nothing and the only emotion I'll have is fear of my own lack of empathy? I don't even have to ponder if I'll like it, because I've heard it before, felt it happen in my own body, and know from experience what it feels like when a limb finally gives way to pressure and stress. I say this all to you as I fight to keep the bile in the back of my throat because no matter what happens, no matter who wins, no matter if I get pushed to the brink and come back int his match and do something that I'll probably regret for the rest of my life because I need you to know that you did this to me. To us. This foregone conclusion of a match where bloods on our hands? It's your fault. It'll be your fault that you sullied this division I championed by making it about brutality instead of finesse. It'll be your fault that no matter who wins, this belt will mean less to that crowd because of what we had to do to win. It'll be your fault that little girls across the world will finally turn around and do something about those little boys that poke and tease them throughout class, or that baby boy who punches a girl in the face for saying no to him when he asked her to the school dance. You're hurting them with this match, and you'll hurt me as well."

(Cynthia gets up and walks toward the pool. She dips her toe in, and then decides to go ahead and sit down and soak her trick knee.)

Cynthia Rose: And there's nothing I can do about any of that but play the cards dealt, and that means, come what may, giving you something that you want from me. Well...if I get to choose what I'm ponying up, it sure isn't going to be my career that you're taking with you at the end of the night in the back of an ambulance. It isn't that title, it isn't that little girl's hopes and dreams of being a part of wrestling without fear of some dork with a vendetta against the world hurting her because you set a precedence. You don't get any of that Layne. You wont get any of that or my respect, or fear, or submission to you and your band of holly jolly cowards. No, you get my self-respect. You get to make me a hypocrite, but that isn't going to do you any good in a hospital bed. It can't act as a cold compress like the icy metallic face of that European Championship, it can't fill your heart with the determination to rehab and return with a new respect from your peers, and it isn't going to be a big enough purse to cover the ER bills. It will knock me down a peg and make me hate myself just a little more, drive me just that much closer to the bottle I left out on the side of the road on Route 66, and question whether or not I'm even role model material for a girl like Cassy Jo to look up to. I'll lose sleep, I'll go into seclusion, and I'll probably have a panic attack in the middle of that ring in front of thousands in attendance and millions watching at home."

(Cynthia pulls herself out of the water and starts to walk toward the lobby. Her back to the camera, she mumbles to herself.)

Cynthia Rose: "And then I'll eventually get over it and learn to live with myself as the person you made me. So congrats on that I guess.."

(The camera cuts to the inside of the hotel lobby as Cynthia walks in to the sound of a commotion just off camera. She stops just inside the doorway and lets her jaw hit the floor with surprise.)

Cynthia Rose: What the-

"LET ME GO!"

(The camera pans around to reveal Percy clutching a 1,000 bill and playing tug of war with Cassy Jo, whose kicking and struggling in the arms of two hotel security guards who seem to be having a rough go of things.)

Cassy Jo: HE SAID HE'D PAY ME IF I BROUGHT THE TITLE BACK!

Percy: You stole it! Now gimme my ducketts you li'l bi-!

Cynthia Rose: PERCY!

(Percy, Cassy Jo, and the security guards all freeze and turn to face Cynthia standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. They all drop out of formation, the guards quickly scampering into a near coat closet as Percy catches Cassy Jo from falling and places her on the ground with a gentle pat on the head. The little whipper snapper takes a wild chomp at his hand, but Percy manages to pull it out of harms way in the nick of time.)

Cynthia Rose:Did you pay this little girl to be nice to me?!

Percy: No...and I'm not gonna if security gets their coward asses out here and haul her out.

Cynthia Rose: Language!

Percy: What? Asses are in the bible!

Cynthia Rose: Swear jar!

(Cynthia snatches the thousand out of Percy's hand and hands it off to Cassy Jo before Percy can even react. Cassy Jo kicks Percy in the shin and then makes a beeline for the door as Cynthia runs in the other direction for the elevator, sliding in just as it opens. She spams the door close button as a limping Percy gives chase and the camera fades to black.)