Post by Jill Park on Nov 7, 2021 9:07:42 GMT -5
“I ain’t your friend or anything, damn”
The usual intro to “License To Jill” began to play, but this time it would be abruptly ended as a shaky camera tried to focus on Jill Park in a large parking lot of an undetermined locale. Jill stood in front of her black 2020 Bentley Continental, with a big smile.
“What’s up simps?! It’s time for another episode of the greatest television program in the history of the world! License! To! Jill!”
In her own way, Jill knew her rise to fame, while meteoric- was also kind of ironic. Most people that watched her show were like most Action Wrestling fans. They wanted her to fail. They wanted her to fall flat on her face, and maybe that's why she was currently in such good spirits.
“You all saw what happened on Clash, right? HA! Of course you did! I made Kyle Kemp SUBMIT! I showed the entire world that Jill Park isn’t a joke. I’m not a fluke. I’m legit. I’m here. And I’m here to stay, whether or not the marks wanna admit to it or not.
That’s why I beat Kyle Kemp. That’s why I’ve been placed in the Turmoil tournament.
Speaking of…
This week. Main Event. Jill Park. Ash Blake. How could it POSSIBLY get any bigger than that?!
But enough about that for a moment…
Big surprise incoming!”
The feed cuts momentarily.
A black Bentley pulls into the parking lot of Gray Belt Training Center in Durham, North Carolina. Jill Park steps out of the driver’s seat and takes a long look at the building through a black pair of aviator sunglasses. She takes a deep breath as the door of her car slams shut. “Here we go.” She mutters to herself as she finally makes her way to the main entrance, a camera crew not far behind.
She walks through the door and is greeted by the sight of a surprisingly large training facility. Trainers and trainers pepper the Academy, working on techniques in any of the half-dozen rings occupying the main floor. As she gains her bearings, she can see a number of meat heads completely distracted, gawking at her as she makes her way through the facility. She looked at one such man, who believed it was a good idea to flex for her. She flipped him off, to which a number of other wrestlers laughed at him over.
As she walks past the wrestlers who WERE focused, she can't help but hear conversations that were nothing like her own training. In her formative years, Jill was used to hearing "hit first, hit hard" and getting chastised for the slightest hesitation. Here, she heard a cacophony of several trainers telling their students:
"Slow down, kid."
"Think it through before you just jump in like that."
"You keep running in like that, I'll give you something to run into."
It was so bizarre compared to Jill's knowledge. Just as Jill found the office area, a student caught her eye: a young lady, no older than Jill was when she first started. Jill couldn't help but eavesdrop as she listened to the aspiring wrestler talk to her trainer.
The trainer quizzed the rookie: "What do we do?"
The bright young lady’s eyes lit up as she emphatically answered:"Control the pace, control the distance, control the intensity!"
"Damn right," the trainer said, beaming with pride. "Now get back in there and give me 10 minutes with Jones."
Jill's mind cast back to her early days, wondering how her career would have gone if she was given the same advice...
Jill's train of thought was cut off as she saw the office door open.
"Eric?"
Through the door walks E. E. Faulk. An athletic but unimposing man at just under 6 feet, Eric still entered the space with the calm confidence of a retired world champion. Extending a hand, he greets Jill.
"You must be Jill Park. Nice to meet you."
She looks down at his hand for a moment, before hesitantly accepting with her own. “Uh, yeah.” Her tone seemed a touch condescending as she clearly was expected to be known. It was a far cry from her usual scheduled appearances.
“Obviously.”
There was a bit of an awkward moment, crafted entirely by Jill’s attitude, as they shook hands.
Taking things in stride, Eric welcomed Jill into his office.
"Of course. Come on in; Sheppard told me a lot about you. I think there's a lot we can..."
Faulk trailed off as he noticed the crew about to follow the two into his office.
"Wow," Eric marveled. "You really wanna capture every moment, huh?"
Jill shrugged at Eric’s comment as she, and the crew followed him into the office space. It was not long until she realized how much of a nuisance her crew would become. The nine-person crew was soon jammed almost wall to wall in the office, bumping into one another and making any sort of production practically impossible. Jill looked to her lead cameraman with the most obvious look of disdain she could muster.
“Are you REALLY that stupid?”
The rhetorical question went unanswered as the crew continued to struggle to do their job, knowing the potential consequences if they’d tried to question it. As several operators fumbled with their equipment, Jill had easily reached a boiling point.
“Jesus christ.” She spat, angrily. “Just get out of here. All of you.” She ordered, with a wave of her hand. An air of relief washed over the crew as they filed out of the office without a second thought about it. Before long, they were all the way out of the parking lot again.
In an attempt to alleviate the tension, Eric spoke up.
"To be fair, it's on me for keeping such a small office. Know what? It's a boring office anyway. Let me give you a tour of the place; walk and talk."
Rising from his seat, Eric shuffled around his desk to invite Jill to tour the facility.
"I wanted to use as much of the space as possible for training, and I never needed a huge space for myself. So I figured--ah!"
Eric trips, stumbling over some cords that a member of Jill's production crew left behind. Regaining both his footing and his composure, Faulk commented:
"Guess your crew left some of their stuff. It's no big deal."
As quickly as Jill’s blood pressure had begun to reach a normal level, she was once again infuriated by her crew, even after their departure. As Eric remarked about the cord that was unfortunately left behind, her face practically became red with anger.
“Fucking idiots.” She said under her breath. She just kind of stared at him in an awkward moment. Faulk clearly caught the comment, but didn’t say anything at that moment. As Jill began to pace around frantically, she began to run her hand through her hair. That usually helped calm her enough, but not today.
“I don’t know who the FUCK MTV hires to do my camera work, but holy shit could they have any less of a clue? I mean COME ON! Have some professionalism, just ONCE! ONE TIME! I’m here to further my own career, to further my goddamn SHOW and these are the MORONS they send me? They’ve ruined EVERYTHING!”
She finally stops, practically out of breath and seething. She looked around her, and almost every other pair of eyes in the building were staring back at her. For a moment it looked like she may say something further, but she relented. She instead refocused on Faulk, who didn’t exactly seem impressed with the outburst.
The surrounding wrestlers paused, jaws agape at Jill's tantrum. Breath held, they gawked in stunned silence until Eric shifted his focus to them.
"Remember why we're here." Faulk said calmly, managing to project to the entire room without shouting.
With that, the wrestlers and staff got back to work and did their best to ignore the scene playing out. In the middle of their space.
Folding his arms, Faulk returned his attention to the woman in front of him. "Is that what you want, Jill?"
She stares at Faulk for a moment, surprised by his composure.
“What do you mean?”
"Look around. I'm fine. The students are fine. The staff's fine. Nothing here was ruined as far as we're concerned... unless that's what you want."
She threw her hands up in the air in frustration.
“Oh, I see. So you think I WANT this to be a waste of time? You think I desire to travel from California to North Carolina- on a whim, to waste my time? To prove that what everyone says about me is precisely correct?”
She stood firm. Maybe the first time in this entire meeting she had felt sure of herself.
“Not a chance.”
"I've done my homework, Jill. Sheppard and I go back years; he even helped me get my own camera crew back when I wrestled. You think he doesn't vent to me about your tantrums?"
“Oh, is that so? Have a good old psychoanalysis with Sheppard do you? Hmm?
So, what’s this? What’s all this- a favour? I’m not someone’s charity case. MySheppard is clearly as clueless as that camera crew.”
"Come on. It's not Sheppard’s fault, your crew's fault, or whoever else you wanna blame's fault. You think this is the first time I've seen this? Hm? First time I've seen someone Try to burn a bridge because they're scared to cross it?"
“SCARED?
Scared.”
She paced back and forth in front of Faulk again. She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated, before saying “This? This is a waste of time.” With a look of disgust, Jill Park turned her back to Faulk and began walking towards the door.
“Sheppard told me about your dramatic exits.”
Jill stops and turns to face Eric, despite being halfway to the door by now. “Good, now you get to see it in person. Bye!”
“Mm. And how's this approach been working for you?”
“MTV contract, one of the best rookie years ever in Action Wrestling, new cars, new clothes. You name it. This ‘approach’ has brought me this far.”[/color]
“But it hasn't brought you further.”
Jill began walking back towards Eric. “What did you say?”
“Ding dong, the witch is dead.
Nah, I ain’t talking about Claire Hawkins. I’m talking about Miss Ashley Blakesley. The woman who thought she had the entire world in the palm of her hand. The company Gal of Philidor Holdings. The company that was going to turn Action Wrestling, and the larger world of professional wrestling, on its head. For some time, I’ll admit, it seemed like they had a shot.
But that’s not what happened, is it Ash? Nah, you, Carter, and Lissie have had a great run at the top, but that’s where it all begins and ends isn’t it? You’ve changed a little more than who the true “villain” of Action Wrestling is. Now don’t get me wrong, you’re certainly a dangerous entity, but you’ve hurt each other as much as you have anyone else. But enough about that, and the past. That ain’t what this week is about. It’s not about a grudge or ‘tHe SoUl oF aCtIoN wReStLiNg”. It’s about something a lot simpler. It’s about the Turmoil tournament and deciding the best wrestler of 2021.
As Philidor raged on, and the top superstars concerned themselves with what was going with Philidor, I’ve quietly moved mountains. I took out legends. Last week, I beat the World Champion. As cliche as it is, this has been my year. And I’ve only getting fucking started.
As for you, Ash...it doesn’t feel like you’re only getting started. It doesn’t feel like Philidor Holdings is only getting started. It feels like you’re closer to the end than the beginning of this chapter, doesn’t it? No, it feels much more ominous. Philidor Holdings, and all of it’s puppets have been great at hiding weakness. They’ve been swift in eliminating weakness, or at least, eliminating the perception of it.
That’s kind of hard this time, isn’t it? It’s supremely difficult this time around because Philidor Holdings was finally tested with a united front. They faced a threat that was more than a main event level talent and their ego. I don’t exactly see eye to eye with Johnny Bacchus, but he did precisely what he had always said he was going to do. He was going to bring the fight to Philidor Holdings. And what happened? The corporate enterprise practically crumbled in front of the entire world to see, right at the feet of Bacchus and his friends.
How embarrassing.
You claimed to have everything. The money. The leverage. The talent. The momentum. Everything. It was a slam dunk, right? And then… womp womp.
Total annihilation.
Who is to fault for such a defeat? Management? Perhaps, but the magnitude of this defeat in the center of the ring surely negates that. Neo? Nah, he’s too low level, right? Just a janitor trying to clean up a mess he did not create. Carter Shaw? Perhaps that’s arguable. A former World Champion, who your bosses clearly still favour. So maybe not. He was allowed to walk on you, no questions asked. That’s gotta burn. Lissie Hope? Well, she seems like she is finally asking the right questions, and better still, she knows the right answers are right under he nose. She has more questions than you have answers.
That just, really, leaves one person: you. Ash Blake. The serendipitous middle-manager of Philidor Holdings. The calm hand that navigated the troops through rough waters. Led them as World Champion through the most important chapter of their existence. Ash Blake, you clearly led by example.
Until you didn’t.”
Jill Park was at her home in Venice Beach, California following her meeting with E.E. Faulk at the Gray Belt Training Center. It would have been a much longer trip had it not been for the private jet.
Regardless of that, she still seemed emotionally spent after the encounter. Faulk did not give her the free pass many did. At the end of the day, that was precisely why she didn’t storm out. Despite her arrogant tone and attitude towards the man, she respected him. Was she ready to actually get her head right, and where it needed to be to accomplish what she wanted? That remained to be seen.
As Jill lifted herself from the couch, she couldn’t help herself but continue to think about everything that had transpired earlier in the day. She also knew she couldn’t dwell on it for too long, because on Clash she would once again have one of the most important matches in her career, against Ash Blake.
As Jill reaches the kitchen, she can hear her phone ringing back on the couch. She groans, spinning around in a single motion and walking back towards the couch.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jill.” The voice on the other end, said calmly. A chill ran down Jill’s spine. It was Caylee. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say?
“Speechless, huh? First time for everything, I guess. I ain’t mad at you, Jill. We’ve known each other our entire lives, after all. You haven’t changed in well over a decade, if not longer. I’m not going to hold that against you.”
Jill remained silent.
“But with that being said, we both know what you’re about. You may not be some patron saint, but when it came down to it- when your own flesh and blood NEEDED you, what did you do? You chose fame and fortune and fucking WRESTLING over your sister. You swept me under the rug. You’d do it to anyone else, I’m certain.
And it’s not going to be long before everyone else knows that, too.”
The call ends abruptly. Jill stares down at her phone for a moment, trying to process what Caylee had just said to her. It was all true, there was no disputing that. No amount of internal monologue would change it. She softly lobbed the phone back on the couch.
“She’s right.” Jill said to herself. “When given the opportunity, I chose fame. I chose money. I didn’t choose family.
And I’d do it again.”
Just then, her phone rings once again. Annoyed, she looks down and picks the phone up. It reads “Dr Sheppard”.
“Fuck off.” She says, aloud. She tosses the phone back down.
“I may have stayed a distance from the whole Philidor vs Action Wrestling saga, but to think I haven’t been paying very close attention would be incredibly naive. By that same token, I don’t necessarily subscribe to the belief that you had to necessarily pick a side. Take that as you will.
One thing that I know you were aware of, is that for the six months I’ve been employed by this company, I’ve grown to know Lissie Hope. The woman who was seemingly always the center of attention, it seemed. It didn’t matter if she was succeeding or if she was failing, she always seemed to command a higher level of fanfare. That must have annoyed you to no end, Ash. I mean, everyone could see it, couldn’t they? You treated Lissie like a project that you could build from the ground up. A broken woman who and Philidor Holdings you could rebuild.
“We have the technology! But...we don’t want to make Ash jealous.”
What a crime that would be.
That’s what it boils down to. But I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, and I am positive you don’t care. Which fortunately, is kind of the point when it comes to Ash Blake. You don’t care. You want everyone to subscribe to this imaginary “bigger picture” that all your cohorts should believe in. That Philidor isn’t the boogeyman, but an inevitability in the world we live in, and in the industry we work in.
What a load of crap.
I mean, believe me: I know disingenuous bullshit when I see it. I’m a reality star, after all. What medium is more synonymous with such a concept? That’s what’s truly mind-boggling about you, Ash. For all the gratuitous nonsense we’ve heard from you for so long, you’re just as full of shit as anyone else. You aren’t larger than life. You aren’t driven by a higher power or any other cliche anyone wants to rifle off. And that’s why you’re not going to beat me. When you strip away Philidor...when you strip away all the smoke and mirrors from Ash Blake, there is little that is left. Just a scared woman trying to make it. In a way, I sympathize, but mostly i don’t give a fuck.”
“What happens when a manager can not lead their subordinates? Well, usually they get fired, or ousted in some fashion. What does that mean for Philidor Holdings? For Ash Blake?
You’ve been asking yourself that for a week now, haven’t you?
I’m sure that question is weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t corral your troops. You couldn’t get them to drink the kool-aid any longer. Neo wasn’t ready. Shaw wasn’t willing to die on the sword. Lissie may have realized what she had believed for so long, what she had feverishly defended like it was her entire existence, was nothing more than a twisted mindfuck to ensure her participation?
And what could be more hurtful to a cult than that?
Surely we’re past the shock value of that, aren’t we?
It’s almost as if nobody wanted to admit that’s what was staring them right in the face, even those on the outside. Maybe the AW roster didn’t want to admit what they had passively allowed to fester and flourish in their own backyard. It wasn’t exactly some great secret. The moment I stepped in Lissie’s gym, I could tell something was off. Nobody in their right mind could come to any other conclusion. It’s pure cognitive dissonance at that point. However, Lissie couldn’t see it at the time. Nobody could convince her of the crap that was right in front of her.
Nice to see things have changed.”
“I’ve really harped on Philidor Holdings. You may be saying ‘this is Jill Park vs Ash Blake, not Jill Park vs Philidor Holdings’ and technically, you’d be correct in that assertion. However, when Philidor crumbles from the weight of its own bravado, what is left for Ash Blake? Of her own doing, Ash’s entire existence in Action Wrestling is intertwined with Philidor. As Philidor goes, so does Ash. So, as her entire house of cards is on the verge of collapse, she will undoubtedly question her future as much as everybody else will. Perhaps she’ll hold onto one last bastion of hope like this Turmoil tournament or the Hardcore title. But like everything else in the entire persona that is Ash Blake, it’s all a farce; it’s nothing more than window dressing. For the last several weeks, all of her actions have been led by one thing. That one thing is not logic, reasoning, or strategy but rather of desperation. She knew this day was coming, perhaps long before anyone else did.
I’m sure she saw the writing on the wall. She was losing her soldiers. They were beginning to see things clearer than ever before. They were starting to realize that Philidor and subsequently Ash Blake did not have their best interests in mind. And that, more than any one person or even team of people, is more of a threat to Philidor. It’s more of a threat to a cult. It’s more of a threat to Ash Blake. And this is a true nightmare for Ash Blake. For now she is precisely how she viewed everyone else: dispensable.
We have a fundamental mismatch this week, Ash. But it isn’t in the way you may think. It isn’t in the manner in which most people would look at it on paper. I am coming into this match on perhaps the biggest wave of momentum I’ve ever experienced in my entire professional life. You on the other hand, couldn’t possibly be any more humbled than you were last week. Much like your team of ‘stars’, you were exposed for all of Action Wrestling to see. The mystique was finally washed away from Ash Blake. She isn’t some eternal boogeyman in the nightmares of Action Wrestling. She ain’t that bitch. She’s just some bitch. Some bitch I’m gonna slap the absolute shit out of on Clash.
And don’t think I’ve forgotten.
You owe me a camera, bitch.”
The usual intro to “License To Jill” began to play, but this time it would be abruptly ended as a shaky camera tried to focus on Jill Park in a large parking lot of an undetermined locale. Jill stood in front of her black 2020 Bentley Continental, with a big smile.
“What’s up simps?! It’s time for another episode of the greatest television program in the history of the world! License! To! Jill!”
In her own way, Jill knew her rise to fame, while meteoric- was also kind of ironic. Most people that watched her show were like most Action Wrestling fans. They wanted her to fail. They wanted her to fall flat on her face, and maybe that's why she was currently in such good spirits.
“You all saw what happened on Clash, right? HA! Of course you did! I made Kyle Kemp SUBMIT! I showed the entire world that Jill Park isn’t a joke. I’m not a fluke. I’m legit. I’m here. And I’m here to stay, whether or not the marks wanna admit to it or not.
That’s why I beat Kyle Kemp. That’s why I’ve been placed in the Turmoil tournament.
Speaking of…
This week. Main Event. Jill Park. Ash Blake. How could it POSSIBLY get any bigger than that?!
But enough about that for a moment…
Big surprise incoming!”
The feed cuts momentarily.
A black Bentley pulls into the parking lot of Gray Belt Training Center in Durham, North Carolina. Jill Park steps out of the driver’s seat and takes a long look at the building through a black pair of aviator sunglasses. She takes a deep breath as the door of her car slams shut. “Here we go.” She mutters to herself as she finally makes her way to the main entrance, a camera crew not far behind.
She walks through the door and is greeted by the sight of a surprisingly large training facility. Trainers and trainers pepper the Academy, working on techniques in any of the half-dozen rings occupying the main floor. As she gains her bearings, she can see a number of meat heads completely distracted, gawking at her as she makes her way through the facility. She looked at one such man, who believed it was a good idea to flex for her. She flipped him off, to which a number of other wrestlers laughed at him over.
As she walks past the wrestlers who WERE focused, she can't help but hear conversations that were nothing like her own training. In her formative years, Jill was used to hearing "hit first, hit hard" and getting chastised for the slightest hesitation. Here, she heard a cacophony of several trainers telling their students:
"Slow down, kid."
"Think it through before you just jump in like that."
"You keep running in like that, I'll give you something to run into."
It was so bizarre compared to Jill's knowledge. Just as Jill found the office area, a student caught her eye: a young lady, no older than Jill was when she first started. Jill couldn't help but eavesdrop as she listened to the aspiring wrestler talk to her trainer.
The trainer quizzed the rookie: "What do we do?"
The bright young lady’s eyes lit up as she emphatically answered:"Control the pace, control the distance, control the intensity!"
"Damn right," the trainer said, beaming with pride. "Now get back in there and give me 10 minutes with Jones."
Jill's mind cast back to her early days, wondering how her career would have gone if she was given the same advice...
Jill's train of thought was cut off as she saw the office door open.
"Eric?"
Through the door walks E. E. Faulk. An athletic but unimposing man at just under 6 feet, Eric still entered the space with the calm confidence of a retired world champion. Extending a hand, he greets Jill.
"You must be Jill Park. Nice to meet you."
She looks down at his hand for a moment, before hesitantly accepting with her own. “Uh, yeah.” Her tone seemed a touch condescending as she clearly was expected to be known. It was a far cry from her usual scheduled appearances.
“Obviously.”
There was a bit of an awkward moment, crafted entirely by Jill’s attitude, as they shook hands.
Taking things in stride, Eric welcomed Jill into his office.
"Of course. Come on in; Sheppard told me a lot about you. I think there's a lot we can..."
Faulk trailed off as he noticed the crew about to follow the two into his office.
"Wow," Eric marveled. "You really wanna capture every moment, huh?"
Jill shrugged at Eric’s comment as she, and the crew followed him into the office space. It was not long until she realized how much of a nuisance her crew would become. The nine-person crew was soon jammed almost wall to wall in the office, bumping into one another and making any sort of production practically impossible. Jill looked to her lead cameraman with the most obvious look of disdain she could muster.
“Are you REALLY that stupid?”
The rhetorical question went unanswered as the crew continued to struggle to do their job, knowing the potential consequences if they’d tried to question it. As several operators fumbled with their equipment, Jill had easily reached a boiling point.
“Jesus christ.” She spat, angrily. “Just get out of here. All of you.” She ordered, with a wave of her hand. An air of relief washed over the crew as they filed out of the office without a second thought about it. Before long, they were all the way out of the parking lot again.
In an attempt to alleviate the tension, Eric spoke up.
"To be fair, it's on me for keeping such a small office. Know what? It's a boring office anyway. Let me give you a tour of the place; walk and talk."
Rising from his seat, Eric shuffled around his desk to invite Jill to tour the facility.
"I wanted to use as much of the space as possible for training, and I never needed a huge space for myself. So I figured--ah!"
Eric trips, stumbling over some cords that a member of Jill's production crew left behind. Regaining both his footing and his composure, Faulk commented:
"Guess your crew left some of their stuff. It's no big deal."
As quickly as Jill’s blood pressure had begun to reach a normal level, she was once again infuriated by her crew, even after their departure. As Eric remarked about the cord that was unfortunately left behind, her face practically became red with anger.
“Fucking idiots.” She said under her breath. She just kind of stared at him in an awkward moment. Faulk clearly caught the comment, but didn’t say anything at that moment. As Jill began to pace around frantically, she began to run her hand through her hair. That usually helped calm her enough, but not today.
“I don’t know who the FUCK MTV hires to do my camera work, but holy shit could they have any less of a clue? I mean COME ON! Have some professionalism, just ONCE! ONE TIME! I’m here to further my own career, to further my goddamn SHOW and these are the MORONS they send me? They’ve ruined EVERYTHING!”
She finally stops, practically out of breath and seething. She looked around her, and almost every other pair of eyes in the building were staring back at her. For a moment it looked like she may say something further, but she relented. She instead refocused on Faulk, who didn’t exactly seem impressed with the outburst.
The surrounding wrestlers paused, jaws agape at Jill's tantrum. Breath held, they gawked in stunned silence until Eric shifted his focus to them.
"Remember why we're here." Faulk said calmly, managing to project to the entire room without shouting.
With that, the wrestlers and staff got back to work and did their best to ignore the scene playing out. In the middle of their space.
Folding his arms, Faulk returned his attention to the woman in front of him. "Is that what you want, Jill?"
She stares at Faulk for a moment, surprised by his composure.
“What do you mean?”
"Look around. I'm fine. The students are fine. The staff's fine. Nothing here was ruined as far as we're concerned... unless that's what you want."
She threw her hands up in the air in frustration.
“Oh, I see. So you think I WANT this to be a waste of time? You think I desire to travel from California to North Carolina- on a whim, to waste my time? To prove that what everyone says about me is precisely correct?”
She stood firm. Maybe the first time in this entire meeting she had felt sure of herself.
“Not a chance.”
"I've done my homework, Jill. Sheppard and I go back years; he even helped me get my own camera crew back when I wrestled. You think he doesn't vent to me about your tantrums?"
“Oh, is that so? Have a good old psychoanalysis with Sheppard do you? Hmm?
So, what’s this? What’s all this- a favour? I’m not someone’s charity case. MySheppard is clearly as clueless as that camera crew.”
"Come on. It's not Sheppard’s fault, your crew's fault, or whoever else you wanna blame's fault. You think this is the first time I've seen this? Hm? First time I've seen someone Try to burn a bridge because they're scared to cross it?"
“SCARED?
Scared.”
She paced back and forth in front of Faulk again. She opened her mouth to say something, but hesitated, before saying “This? This is a waste of time.” With a look of disgust, Jill Park turned her back to Faulk and began walking towards the door.
“Sheppard told me about your dramatic exits.”
Jill stops and turns to face Eric, despite being halfway to the door by now. “Good, now you get to see it in person. Bye!”
“Mm. And how's this approach been working for you?”
“MTV contract, one of the best rookie years ever in Action Wrestling, new cars, new clothes. You name it. This ‘approach’ has brought me this far.”[/color]
“But it hasn't brought you further.”
Jill began walking back towards Eric. “What did you say?”
“Ding dong, the witch is dead.
Nah, I ain’t talking about Claire Hawkins. I’m talking about Miss Ashley Blakesley. The woman who thought she had the entire world in the palm of her hand. The company Gal of Philidor Holdings. The company that was going to turn Action Wrestling, and the larger world of professional wrestling, on its head. For some time, I’ll admit, it seemed like they had a shot.
But that’s not what happened, is it Ash? Nah, you, Carter, and Lissie have had a great run at the top, but that’s where it all begins and ends isn’t it? You’ve changed a little more than who the true “villain” of Action Wrestling is. Now don’t get me wrong, you’re certainly a dangerous entity, but you’ve hurt each other as much as you have anyone else. But enough about that, and the past. That ain’t what this week is about. It’s not about a grudge or ‘tHe SoUl oF aCtIoN wReStLiNg”. It’s about something a lot simpler. It’s about the Turmoil tournament and deciding the best wrestler of 2021.
As Philidor raged on, and the top superstars concerned themselves with what was going with Philidor, I’ve quietly moved mountains. I took out legends. Last week, I beat the World Champion. As cliche as it is, this has been my year. And I’ve only getting fucking started.
As for you, Ash...it doesn’t feel like you’re only getting started. It doesn’t feel like Philidor Holdings is only getting started. It feels like you’re closer to the end than the beginning of this chapter, doesn’t it? No, it feels much more ominous. Philidor Holdings, and all of it’s puppets have been great at hiding weakness. They’ve been swift in eliminating weakness, or at least, eliminating the perception of it.
That’s kind of hard this time, isn’t it? It’s supremely difficult this time around because Philidor Holdings was finally tested with a united front. They faced a threat that was more than a main event level talent and their ego. I don’t exactly see eye to eye with Johnny Bacchus, but he did precisely what he had always said he was going to do. He was going to bring the fight to Philidor Holdings. And what happened? The corporate enterprise practically crumbled in front of the entire world to see, right at the feet of Bacchus and his friends.
How embarrassing.
You claimed to have everything. The money. The leverage. The talent. The momentum. Everything. It was a slam dunk, right? And then… womp womp.
Total annihilation.
Who is to fault for such a defeat? Management? Perhaps, but the magnitude of this defeat in the center of the ring surely negates that. Neo? Nah, he’s too low level, right? Just a janitor trying to clean up a mess he did not create. Carter Shaw? Perhaps that’s arguable. A former World Champion, who your bosses clearly still favour. So maybe not. He was allowed to walk on you, no questions asked. That’s gotta burn. Lissie Hope? Well, she seems like she is finally asking the right questions, and better still, she knows the right answers are right under he nose. She has more questions than you have answers.
That just, really, leaves one person: you. Ash Blake. The serendipitous middle-manager of Philidor Holdings. The calm hand that navigated the troops through rough waters. Led them as World Champion through the most important chapter of their existence. Ash Blake, you clearly led by example.
Until you didn’t.”
Jill Park was at her home in Venice Beach, California following her meeting with E.E. Faulk at the Gray Belt Training Center. It would have been a much longer trip had it not been for the private jet.
Regardless of that, she still seemed emotionally spent after the encounter. Faulk did not give her the free pass many did. At the end of the day, that was precisely why she didn’t storm out. Despite her arrogant tone and attitude towards the man, she respected him. Was she ready to actually get her head right, and where it needed to be to accomplish what she wanted? That remained to be seen.
As Jill lifted herself from the couch, she couldn’t help herself but continue to think about everything that had transpired earlier in the day. She also knew she couldn’t dwell on it for too long, because on Clash she would once again have one of the most important matches in her career, against Ash Blake.
As Jill reaches the kitchen, she can hear her phone ringing back on the couch. She groans, spinning around in a single motion and walking back towards the couch.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Jill.” The voice on the other end, said calmly. A chill ran down Jill’s spine. It was Caylee. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say?
“Speechless, huh? First time for everything, I guess. I ain’t mad at you, Jill. We’ve known each other our entire lives, after all. You haven’t changed in well over a decade, if not longer. I’m not going to hold that against you.”
Jill remained silent.
“But with that being said, we both know what you’re about. You may not be some patron saint, but when it came down to it- when your own flesh and blood NEEDED you, what did you do? You chose fame and fortune and fucking WRESTLING over your sister. You swept me under the rug. You’d do it to anyone else, I’m certain.
And it’s not going to be long before everyone else knows that, too.”
The call ends abruptly. Jill stares down at her phone for a moment, trying to process what Caylee had just said to her. It was all true, there was no disputing that. No amount of internal monologue would change it. She softly lobbed the phone back on the couch.
“She’s right.” Jill said to herself. “When given the opportunity, I chose fame. I chose money. I didn’t choose family.
And I’d do it again.”
Just then, her phone rings once again. Annoyed, she looks down and picks the phone up. It reads “Dr Sheppard”.
“Fuck off.” She says, aloud. She tosses the phone back down.
“I may have stayed a distance from the whole Philidor vs Action Wrestling saga, but to think I haven’t been paying very close attention would be incredibly naive. By that same token, I don’t necessarily subscribe to the belief that you had to necessarily pick a side. Take that as you will.
One thing that I know you were aware of, is that for the six months I’ve been employed by this company, I’ve grown to know Lissie Hope. The woman who was seemingly always the center of attention, it seemed. It didn’t matter if she was succeeding or if she was failing, she always seemed to command a higher level of fanfare. That must have annoyed you to no end, Ash. I mean, everyone could see it, couldn’t they? You treated Lissie like a project that you could build from the ground up. A broken woman who and Philidor Holdings you could rebuild.
“We have the technology! But...we don’t want to make Ash jealous.”
What a crime that would be.
That’s what it boils down to. But I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, and I am positive you don’t care. Which fortunately, is kind of the point when it comes to Ash Blake. You don’t care. You want everyone to subscribe to this imaginary “bigger picture” that all your cohorts should believe in. That Philidor isn’t the boogeyman, but an inevitability in the world we live in, and in the industry we work in.
What a load of crap.
I mean, believe me: I know disingenuous bullshit when I see it. I’m a reality star, after all. What medium is more synonymous with such a concept? That’s what’s truly mind-boggling about you, Ash. For all the gratuitous nonsense we’ve heard from you for so long, you’re just as full of shit as anyone else. You aren’t larger than life. You aren’t driven by a higher power or any other cliche anyone wants to rifle off. And that’s why you’re not going to beat me. When you strip away Philidor...when you strip away all the smoke and mirrors from Ash Blake, there is little that is left. Just a scared woman trying to make it. In a way, I sympathize, but mostly i don’t give a fuck.”
“What happens when a manager can not lead their subordinates? Well, usually they get fired, or ousted in some fashion. What does that mean for Philidor Holdings? For Ash Blake?
You’ve been asking yourself that for a week now, haven’t you?
I’m sure that question is weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t corral your troops. You couldn’t get them to drink the kool-aid any longer. Neo wasn’t ready. Shaw wasn’t willing to die on the sword. Lissie may have realized what she had believed for so long, what she had feverishly defended like it was her entire existence, was nothing more than a twisted mindfuck to ensure her participation?
And what could be more hurtful to a cult than that?
Surely we’re past the shock value of that, aren’t we?
It’s almost as if nobody wanted to admit that’s what was staring them right in the face, even those on the outside. Maybe the AW roster didn’t want to admit what they had passively allowed to fester and flourish in their own backyard. It wasn’t exactly some great secret. The moment I stepped in Lissie’s gym, I could tell something was off. Nobody in their right mind could come to any other conclusion. It’s pure cognitive dissonance at that point. However, Lissie couldn’t see it at the time. Nobody could convince her of the crap that was right in front of her.
Nice to see things have changed.”
“I’ve really harped on Philidor Holdings. You may be saying ‘this is Jill Park vs Ash Blake, not Jill Park vs Philidor Holdings’ and technically, you’d be correct in that assertion. However, when Philidor crumbles from the weight of its own bravado, what is left for Ash Blake? Of her own doing, Ash’s entire existence in Action Wrestling is intertwined with Philidor. As Philidor goes, so does Ash. So, as her entire house of cards is on the verge of collapse, she will undoubtedly question her future as much as everybody else will. Perhaps she’ll hold onto one last bastion of hope like this Turmoil tournament or the Hardcore title. But like everything else in the entire persona that is Ash Blake, it’s all a farce; it’s nothing more than window dressing. For the last several weeks, all of her actions have been led by one thing. That one thing is not logic, reasoning, or strategy but rather of desperation. She knew this day was coming, perhaps long before anyone else did.
I’m sure she saw the writing on the wall. She was losing her soldiers. They were beginning to see things clearer than ever before. They were starting to realize that Philidor and subsequently Ash Blake did not have their best interests in mind. And that, more than any one person or even team of people, is more of a threat to Philidor. It’s more of a threat to a cult. It’s more of a threat to Ash Blake. And this is a true nightmare for Ash Blake. For now she is precisely how she viewed everyone else: dispensable.
We have a fundamental mismatch this week, Ash. But it isn’t in the way you may think. It isn’t in the manner in which most people would look at it on paper. I am coming into this match on perhaps the biggest wave of momentum I’ve ever experienced in my entire professional life. You on the other hand, couldn’t possibly be any more humbled than you were last week. Much like your team of ‘stars’, you were exposed for all of Action Wrestling to see. The mystique was finally washed away from Ash Blake. She isn’t some eternal boogeyman in the nightmares of Action Wrestling. She ain’t that bitch. She’s just some bitch. Some bitch I’m gonna slap the absolute shit out of on Clash.
And don’t think I’ve forgotten.
You owe me a camera, bitch.”