Post by Jill Park on Mar 6, 2022 13:03:47 GMT -5
“VEGAN CHAI LATTE!”
The guttural scream rang through the halls of Jill Park’s Venice Beach home, as terrified staff scrambled to attend to her ludicrous demands. A young lady in a dark blazer and pencil skirt rushes into the main living area where Jill is dramatically sprawled out in red plaid pajamas and resting up against a number of throw pillows. As the young lady rushes towards Jill, she holds her right hand out, telling her to stop, and points to a soft foam neck brace she has on. “Easy! I’m hurt! Did you see what that MANIAC Carter Shaw did to me?!”
The young lady looks mortified at the state of Jill, and slowly creeps forward with the styrofoam cup that houses her Vegan Chai Latte. Jill clasps it with both hands and mouths “thank you” with the nastiest look, before once again cringing as a pain shot up her neck. After taking a sip of the passable latte, she placed it onto a tray held by another young lady, who is almost assuredly an intern who is questioning her life choices, if her body language is anything to go by. Jill tries to stand but the pain appears to be too much for her. She waves her hands dismissively before just completely laying back.
“This is not how this was supposed to go. One of us was supposed to grab the Poker Chip, and we were gonna overthrow that white trash rapper wannabe DiVito. We were finally going to change the face of Action Wrestling forever. BUT I didn’t count on Carter Shaw being an ABSOLUTE PSYCHO! AGH!” Once again, Jill cringes in pain as she yells, still clearly feeling the effects of the “Concussion Protocol” onto the two stacked ladders from this past Monday Night. “You know, I really don’t know what Shaw’s fucking deal is. After all the bullshit he spoke about, he got the win in the Submission match. Granted, it should have a massive fucking asterisk next to it because it was a MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE, but it was still a win.
Sure, I get it. Carter Shaw is obsessed with me. He’s not the only one. I’m the most recognizable face the company has. Don’t agree with that? I don’t give a fuck. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: I am everything Carter Shaw wants to be. Everything he claims to be, I am. And as his life is reduced to shambles in the wake of his greatest achievement being wiped from the collective memory of Action Wrestling, he is looking for a scapegoat. He tries so hard to make me that scapegoat. That’s where things get a little strange.
I’m honestly a little confused at this point. What is it that you want, Shaw? Do you want to retire me? To end my career? Is pinning you clean in the center of the ring in front of THE WORLD at Turmoil a big enough sin to warrant this crazed manhunt you have adopted?”
Casually lifting her right hand into the air, she waved her index finger back and forth. “No, that’s not it, is it, Shaw?” Slowly, now planting both hands beneath her for leverage, Jill hoists herself up enough to squarely face the camera. “It’s not about what I’ve done, or the things I’ve said. It’s not even about who I am or what I stand for. This whole crusade that Carter Shaw is on is about something much more shallow. It’s about the fact that deep down, he knows I’m right. He’s ashamed of that fact and has tried so hard to push me down and discredit what I’ve done. Now he’s realized that beating me wasn’t enough. He knows that despite his shady victory over me, that truth still rings true. It’s all he can hear. It SCREAMS to him as he looks himself in the mirror, and it’s sending him mad. The great Carter Shaw…All-In Winner, former Rookie of The Year, former World Champion…is afraid. As his world crumbles around him and he scrambles to prove he still belongs at the top, he knows that his whole shtick has been figured out. He realizes that I am not going to buy into this charade he has been selling to the whole world for so long.
So now, despite the fact that he technically holds a victory over me, he knows it hasn’t pushed him any further ahead. He still isn’t the star he once was. He knows that his star power was nothing more than a sham bankrolled by Philidor Holdings. They allowed him to ascend to the throne and be THE guy, but Shaw never really bought into that, did he?”
Jill stuck her finger out once more, waving it back and forth. Despite being in pajamas and having an apparent neck injury that seriously impaired her ability to move, she was able to be as condescending as ever.
“He did the song and dance like the little orphan monkey he is, but he always knew. He knew he was being propped up by means that simply put, heh no pun intended…simply put, means that nobody else had. Philidor Holdings granted Shaw leverage that few have ever felt in Action Wrestling history. And that was enough for a long while, it was more than enough to rig the system and allow Shaw to set up shop as THE guy.
The only problem was his throne was atop a house of cards.”
“Are you still actually going through with this match next Monday?”
Jill rolled her eyes at the source of the off-screen voice. It was assumed to be a producer. “I realize how this looks but I told you all once, and I’ll tell you all again.
I don’t give a shit about Carter Shaw. BUT
He started this. He took this one step further. My neck may mend, and it may not. I’m not foolish enough to disclose the extent of my injury on camera. Let all the incel marks on social media and online forums “leak” that information. I will be at Clash. I will be in Hell in a Cell. Because not only am I a trailblazer and a star, but I’m the one and only. I’m Jill fuckin’ Park.
And this Monday, I FINALLY put an end to the Carter Shaw problem. He won’t need to worry about his standing. He won’t need to worry about his spot. What he will need to worry about is how he just got embarrassed by someone he has claimed is so far beneath him, yet continues to ASSAULT. He’ll need to look at himself in the mirror and ask “What went wrong?” Because he’ll be the only one capable of answering that question.
Carter Shaw has dug his own grave, and I’ll take great pleasure in filling it with his body.”
“Uhhh Miss Park?” A meek voice barely audible, came from a doorway behind Jill. She sat in silence for a moment. “You have a guest.” The young lady declared. Jill was still in stunned silence, clearly confused on who it might be. She wouldn’t wait long though, as she waved her right hand in the air to allow this ‘guest’ in. Immediately, she could hear the echo of heels through the hallways. Jill tried to crane her neck to catch a glimpse of who it was, but the pain was just too much to bear, and she relented. A woman in a blood-red pantsuit turned the corner and stood before Jill in confident silence for a moment, and Jill perked up with a big grin.
“Regan.”
“You seem ill, Jill.”
As Jill’s smile fades at the joke, a frown replaces it. Clearly, Jill is being overly dramatic, which of course is painfully on-brand. This reaction also causes Regan to smirk, enjoying the discomfort that she offers in spades.
“Couldn't resist. I'd ask about the neck, but I'm guessing it's terrible.”
Jill sneers, as she’s presumably seconds away from launching herself into another expletive-laden tirade about Carter Shaw and how the Hell in a Cell match, along with everything else that has occurred in the last couple of months, is a conspiracy of the highest order with the goal of ending her career. Regan knows this about as well as anyone in Action Wrestling, and raises her right hand to stop Jill before she gets started up again.
“No joke, neck injuries. Good to see you're taking proper precautions. A shame I can't say the same thing about Action, considering they're already planning to lock you in a cell with a man who could've crippled you. Can't imagine Shaw's doing particularly well either, but he's not the one who went headfirst through a ladder. You showing up on Monday?”
“You doubt me, Regan?” Jill pouts, again more performative in nature, than anything else. “Of course I will be. I won’t allow Shaw to stop me from ending this mindless ‘feud’ that exists between us. Because that’s exactly what I’m gonna do on Monday Night. End this once and for all.”
“Good for you.” Dramatic thumbs up. “ I have to admit if I were in your position I'd probably call in sick. But I admire your resolve. All things being equal between you two, which is obviously a major IF, I think you have quite an advantage.
Jill irked her brow, a little taken back by the last remark. “How is Carter Shaw being a seething, dramatic psychopath an advantage for ME?”
“The man effectively eliminated himself from a contendership match because winning was less important to him than putting you through a ladder. You're under his skin, as I'm sure you're aware, but to make him do something so... Dumb. Bravo, Jill. He absolutely hates you. Which theoretically makes him that much dumber, at least against you. The downside, of course, he's willing to destroy himself for the sake of destroying you. Which would put you two at a draw. So then, the question would be, how does one make Carter Shaw destroy himself?”
“Fair point, Reegs.
One thing everyone ought to remember is he’s been actively damaging himself for a long time. It’s no real secret to anyone that his life has been in shambles for some time. We could beat the dead horse about how Philidor Holdings imploded and the results of that, but then Vanguard wouldn’t have anything more to ramble on about. No, it’s actually even simpler than that.”
If it had been possible for Regan’s eyes to light up, they may have just then. She did seem mildly more interested at the prospects of what Jill was about to say. Jill, for her part, tried to sit up a little straighter, her neck seemingly not causing her any issues at the moment.
“It’s nothing I haven’t said before, but everyone wants to put me into this tight little box. This tight little box where I’m nothing but a Reality Show cretin that isn’t capable of a second thought beyond my fame. They can’t fathom the thought that I’ve actually been right about Carter Shaw from the very beginning. BUT actually, it’s even further than that. Rewind all the way back to Turmoil.”
Regan sighs loudly. Jill nods, recognizing that’s still a sore spot for her as well. “I know, I know…just hear me out for a second. Way back when I was firmly establishing myself as THE next Main Event, Carter Shaw declared, in front of the world…
That I wasn’t going to make my name off of him. That no matter how good I THOUGHT I was, that it just wouldn’t happen. He denied the possibility. He stated there was no way, no how, was I getting one over on him.
And as he so often is, Carter Shaw was wrong. I spiked his head into the fucking mat. I ended his night, and I ended his crusade for the World Title. That was as close as he’s been to that prize since. Don’t believe me? Just ask him. He’s been crying about it ever since. He’ll claim he was never given his “rightful” shot. What an arrogant bastard. People call me entitled, but Carter Shaw has been whining for three months about how he DESERVES a one on one title match with the World Champion. He has labeled me a loser, a joke, all bark, and no bite, you name it, he’s said it. He wants so badly to talk up his Submission match victory in a match that he admits ended in a way it wasn’t supposed to. He knows that he was NEVER going to make me tap. Just like he knows his time on top is fucking numbered. The referee didn’t save me on that night, they saved him, and his paper-thin ego.”
Regan stands in silence, staring down at Jill as she continues on her tirade. She seems…indifferent. She stands with Jill, there’s no doubt, but she’s hardly invested.
“Right.
Hopefully, you end this, properly, on Clash. Then, we can look ahead to Havoc.”
After a light pat on Jill’s right shoulder, Regan exits, leaving Jill alone once more. Jill seems…content.
A loud crash jolts Jill up from the couch. She had been napping away most of the evening by the looks of it as she stood up, still in the same pajamas as before but it was clearly the middle of the night at this point. She called out for anyone to appear, but most of the staff had gone home for the day. She slowly crept forward and through the doorway that led to an adjacent hallway. At the end of the hall, she saw a form of what appeared to be a man, and she quickly flicked the lights on but he had disappeared into a different room.
“For fuck sakes.” She muttered, before realizing she had whoever it was cornered as they snuck into a spare bedroom. She had no weapon handy, and she was unaware of who was in that room but she was unafraid, as illogical as that may’ve been. As she kicked the door open, she saw a vaguely familiar face.
“What the fuck?”
There, standing before her was the same neckbeard incel from a week ago, from the autograph signing. However, this time he was dressed in all black, and his right hand gripped a camera.
“Graduating from harassment to break and enter?” She quipped. He did not seem at all amused.
“Shut up.” His tone varied wildly from their last encounter. He sounded defeated. “Yeah, you caught me, but I know your secret.”
Jill seemed wary of what that meant. For all anyone knew, she could have a myriad of secrets. “And what would that be?” She probed. He simply took two steps forward, quickly flashing a picture on his smartphone’s screen in her face, although it wasn’t clear what of.
“Is that…?”
“One in the same.”
“What do you want?”
“Money, obviously. You really ARE stupid, aren’t you? Maybe be a little bit more careful next time.”
Jill quickly went from worried to gleeful as she declared “I could say the same thing to you.”.
Before the “journalist” could even ask what she was alluding to, the window behind him creaked open and a security guard was climbing through. A big hulking man that was certainly not to be very friendly to Jill’s ‘guest’. He then tried to flee the only other way, past Jill Park. Normally he may not have had that thought, but perhaps the neck brace made him think she would allow him passage. He was wrong.
As he sprinted forward, Jill sprung forward with an elbow strike, catching him flush on the nose, and he crumbled to the floor almost instantly, writhing in pain as blood began to pool on the floor. Jill laughed as she ripped the neck brace off and crouched down by him as security circled like vultures.
“You know, I never caught your name.”
He continued to yell in agony, which continued to entertain Jill.
“So many people think they can manipulate me. They think because a version of life is played on television, really two versions actually…they think that they know me. They think they know who I am. They think there’s nothing behind this brash attitude. They foolishly think I am stupid. Just like you have. You thought you could waltz on in here, do what you please, and stole a cookie from the cookie jar. You actually thought you could get your reward. You really thought you could underestimate me, talk down to me, insult me, and get away with it. But let me tell you something.”
She callously grabs the man by his chin, focusing him to stare her directly in her cold eyes.
“It’s about time that common misconception gets rectified. I am the one who does the manipulating. I am the one who holds the cards, and I am the one that is always in control, whether you think I look the part of not, you stupid fucking asshole.”
She lets go of his chin, causing it to crack off the floor, resulting in more yelling. Jill stares at her hand with disgust for the blood that trickled upon it. She turns and walks out of the room. “Clean up this mess, and take the camera.” She says casually, but also coldly, to one of the security guards as she exits.
“How does one make Carter Shaw destroy himself?”
“An interesting, and thoughtful question posed by Regan, even if she may have missed the mark by just a touch. If there’s one thing I have noticed throughout this whole ordeal about Carter Shaw is that, inevitably, he WILL sabotage himself. Shaw is so incredibly short-sighted. He cares so much about the perception of who he is, that he will tie himself in knots to protect it, even if it’s at his own detriment. That is the story of Carter Shaw. Instead of talking about his FLUKE WIN at Revolution, and being content…he continued to poke the bear. He has continued to antagonize me and really…what even is his point at this stage? He thinks he holds all the cards. He thinks he’s always one step ahead when really? He is the one with EVERYTHING to lose. In one night I have the opportunity to right EVERY wrong that Carter Shaw has perpetrated on me.
Carter Shaw has made it his mission to try and protect this bogus spot he thinks he holds. He has been FIXATED on it. So much so, that when he actually had the chance to become number one contender, and potentially RECLAIM his throne…he threw it all away to attack me. This wasn’t a mistake, it wasn’t a coincidence. This was a calculated move by Shaw because he didn’t want to be EMBARRASSED by Dandy DiVito again.
All of his bravado and insistence that he’s some sort of uncrowned king, it all points back to one thing. Carter Shaw is afraid that Action Wrestling is passing him by. It wasn’t long ago that he was reigning as Action Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, but that landscape has changed so dramatically since then.
To be completely honest, Shaw feverishly defended his PERCEIVED spot is hilarious. He isn’t the uncrowned king that he claims to be. He isn’t the top dog. He saw me climbing the ranks and he felt what it was like when I PINNED him back on that fateful night in December. He saw the hype around me and it drove him crazy because he was used to that hype. He wasn’t used to that spotlight. So when it came down to becoming Number 1 Contender or hurting me, he showed which was more important. That’s how fragile the ego of Carter Shaw is. He would rather have an inflated sense of self-worth than to actually accomplish anything further.
But I’m not your therapist, Shaw. I'm not gonna try and speak to your insecurities and hope that you can resolve them. Honestly, I don’t care. This Monday we step into one of the most dangerous matches in Action Wrestling. We step inside Hell in a Cell.
I won’t question how far you’re willing to go to win, because we all saw the depths you are willing to sink to. We saw when you tried to END MY CAREER in the Casino Night Ladder match. The only remaining doubt, actually, is me.
Everyone wants to place me into this role of ‘princess’. They wanna say I’m all bark and no bite. They want to pigeonhole me into this narrative that I cannot win when it matters. They’ve crafted this whole narrative where I won’t do what it takes when it comes down to it. They’ve created this persona of Jill Park that is soft, delusional, and easily defeated. I have tried to correct this delusion, but still, it persists.
So when I step into the cell with Carter Shaw…
I not only will look to eradicate the loss at the hands of Shaw.
I will not only look to end this PROBLEM between Shaw and myself.
There’s something much greater at stake.
I will END this fucking DELUSION that the “elite” members of Action Wrestling have convinced themselves of. After witnessing my ascension, they needed something to cling to. They needed to bastardize Jill Park. On top of all the other LIES constantly spread about me. I’ve been called vermin. Psychotic. Vile. Yet, in the same breath, these bad-faith actors call me a loser. Over-hyped.
It’s a calculated measure by men like Carter Shaw, hoping to DEFINE me by THEIR standards. They attempt to gaslight me into thinking that this is what defines me and THIS is the reality.
But it’s a LIE. So when I step through these ropes on Monday night, you better believe this, Carter Shaw:
I’m fighting for my CAREER. I'm fighting for my LIFE. You want to be seen as the alpha dog, you wanna be seen as the epitome of success in Action Wrestling. You think you’re gonna put Jill Park “in her place”. The “place” you think she DESERVES to be in, which of course is under your boot. Except, here’s the thing, Shaw. I ain’t gonna roll over and let you do that. I’m not gonna be fine with what I have and live to fight another day. This Hell in a Cell match simply means more to me than it does to you. For you, this is nothing more than an ego boost. To try and prove to the world that you belong at the top. Even as your empire crumbles, you scramble to grandstand and save every conceivable moment in the sun that you can.
For me? This is everything. This is the one defining moment for Jill Park to make her stand. To look you and all the other so-called “Main Eventers” in the fucking eye and flip them off. To tell them they are FULL OF SHIT. It’s the one moment where I turn this company on its head and I BURY Carter Shaw under the weight of his own ego. At the end of the night, I will stand y’all over the broken body of Carter Shaw, and the lasting consequences will echo throughout the locker room. Jill Park will no longer be denied. I will no longer be looked over. The world will realize the story they’ve been watching all along wasn’t exactly what they thought. Carter Shaw was never the main character of this story.
You’ll finally realize this was never about Carter Shaw protecting his spot.
It is, and always has been…
About the evolution of Jill Park.”
The guttural scream rang through the halls of Jill Park’s Venice Beach home, as terrified staff scrambled to attend to her ludicrous demands. A young lady in a dark blazer and pencil skirt rushes into the main living area where Jill is dramatically sprawled out in red plaid pajamas and resting up against a number of throw pillows. As the young lady rushes towards Jill, she holds her right hand out, telling her to stop, and points to a soft foam neck brace she has on. “Easy! I’m hurt! Did you see what that MANIAC Carter Shaw did to me?!”
The young lady looks mortified at the state of Jill, and slowly creeps forward with the styrofoam cup that houses her Vegan Chai Latte. Jill clasps it with both hands and mouths “thank you” with the nastiest look, before once again cringing as a pain shot up her neck. After taking a sip of the passable latte, she placed it onto a tray held by another young lady, who is almost assuredly an intern who is questioning her life choices, if her body language is anything to go by. Jill tries to stand but the pain appears to be too much for her. She waves her hands dismissively before just completely laying back.
“This is not how this was supposed to go. One of us was supposed to grab the Poker Chip, and we were gonna overthrow that white trash rapper wannabe DiVito. We were finally going to change the face of Action Wrestling forever. BUT I didn’t count on Carter Shaw being an ABSOLUTE PSYCHO! AGH!” Once again, Jill cringes in pain as she yells, still clearly feeling the effects of the “Concussion Protocol” onto the two stacked ladders from this past Monday Night. “You know, I really don’t know what Shaw’s fucking deal is. After all the bullshit he spoke about, he got the win in the Submission match. Granted, it should have a massive fucking asterisk next to it because it was a MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE, but it was still a win.
Sure, I get it. Carter Shaw is obsessed with me. He’s not the only one. I’m the most recognizable face the company has. Don’t agree with that? I don’t give a fuck. I said it before, and I’ll say it again: I am everything Carter Shaw wants to be. Everything he claims to be, I am. And as his life is reduced to shambles in the wake of his greatest achievement being wiped from the collective memory of Action Wrestling, he is looking for a scapegoat. He tries so hard to make me that scapegoat. That’s where things get a little strange.
I’m honestly a little confused at this point. What is it that you want, Shaw? Do you want to retire me? To end my career? Is pinning you clean in the center of the ring in front of THE WORLD at Turmoil a big enough sin to warrant this crazed manhunt you have adopted?”
Casually lifting her right hand into the air, she waved her index finger back and forth. “No, that’s not it, is it, Shaw?” Slowly, now planting both hands beneath her for leverage, Jill hoists herself up enough to squarely face the camera. “It’s not about what I’ve done, or the things I’ve said. It’s not even about who I am or what I stand for. This whole crusade that Carter Shaw is on is about something much more shallow. It’s about the fact that deep down, he knows I’m right. He’s ashamed of that fact and has tried so hard to push me down and discredit what I’ve done. Now he’s realized that beating me wasn’t enough. He knows that despite his shady victory over me, that truth still rings true. It’s all he can hear. It SCREAMS to him as he looks himself in the mirror, and it’s sending him mad. The great Carter Shaw…All-In Winner, former Rookie of The Year, former World Champion…is afraid. As his world crumbles around him and he scrambles to prove he still belongs at the top, he knows that his whole shtick has been figured out. He realizes that I am not going to buy into this charade he has been selling to the whole world for so long.
So now, despite the fact that he technically holds a victory over me, he knows it hasn’t pushed him any further ahead. He still isn’t the star he once was. He knows that his star power was nothing more than a sham bankrolled by Philidor Holdings. They allowed him to ascend to the throne and be THE guy, but Shaw never really bought into that, did he?”
Jill stuck her finger out once more, waving it back and forth. Despite being in pajamas and having an apparent neck injury that seriously impaired her ability to move, she was able to be as condescending as ever.
“He did the song and dance like the little orphan monkey he is, but he always knew. He knew he was being propped up by means that simply put, heh no pun intended…simply put, means that nobody else had. Philidor Holdings granted Shaw leverage that few have ever felt in Action Wrestling history. And that was enough for a long while, it was more than enough to rig the system and allow Shaw to set up shop as THE guy.
The only problem was his throne was atop a house of cards.”
“Are you still actually going through with this match next Monday?”
Jill rolled her eyes at the source of the off-screen voice. It was assumed to be a producer. “I realize how this looks but I told you all once, and I’ll tell you all again.
I don’t give a shit about Carter Shaw. BUT
He started this. He took this one step further. My neck may mend, and it may not. I’m not foolish enough to disclose the extent of my injury on camera. Let all the incel marks on social media and online forums “leak” that information. I will be at Clash. I will be in Hell in a Cell. Because not only am I a trailblazer and a star, but I’m the one and only. I’m Jill fuckin’ Park.
And this Monday, I FINALLY put an end to the Carter Shaw problem. He won’t need to worry about his standing. He won’t need to worry about his spot. What he will need to worry about is how he just got embarrassed by someone he has claimed is so far beneath him, yet continues to ASSAULT. He’ll need to look at himself in the mirror and ask “What went wrong?” Because he’ll be the only one capable of answering that question.
Carter Shaw has dug his own grave, and I’ll take great pleasure in filling it with his body.”
“Uhhh Miss Park?” A meek voice barely audible, came from a doorway behind Jill. She sat in silence for a moment. “You have a guest.” The young lady declared. Jill was still in stunned silence, clearly confused on who it might be. She wouldn’t wait long though, as she waved her right hand in the air to allow this ‘guest’ in. Immediately, she could hear the echo of heels through the hallways. Jill tried to crane her neck to catch a glimpse of who it was, but the pain was just too much to bear, and she relented. A woman in a blood-red pantsuit turned the corner and stood before Jill in confident silence for a moment, and Jill perked up with a big grin.
“Regan.”
“You seem ill, Jill.”
As Jill’s smile fades at the joke, a frown replaces it. Clearly, Jill is being overly dramatic, which of course is painfully on-brand. This reaction also causes Regan to smirk, enjoying the discomfort that she offers in spades.
“Couldn't resist. I'd ask about the neck, but I'm guessing it's terrible.”
Jill sneers, as she’s presumably seconds away from launching herself into another expletive-laden tirade about Carter Shaw and how the Hell in a Cell match, along with everything else that has occurred in the last couple of months, is a conspiracy of the highest order with the goal of ending her career. Regan knows this about as well as anyone in Action Wrestling, and raises her right hand to stop Jill before she gets started up again.
“No joke, neck injuries. Good to see you're taking proper precautions. A shame I can't say the same thing about Action, considering they're already planning to lock you in a cell with a man who could've crippled you. Can't imagine Shaw's doing particularly well either, but he's not the one who went headfirst through a ladder. You showing up on Monday?”
“You doubt me, Regan?” Jill pouts, again more performative in nature, than anything else. “Of course I will be. I won’t allow Shaw to stop me from ending this mindless ‘feud’ that exists between us. Because that’s exactly what I’m gonna do on Monday Night. End this once and for all.”
“Good for you.” Dramatic thumbs up. “ I have to admit if I were in your position I'd probably call in sick. But I admire your resolve. All things being equal between you two, which is obviously a major IF, I think you have quite an advantage.
Jill irked her brow, a little taken back by the last remark. “How is Carter Shaw being a seething, dramatic psychopath an advantage for ME?”
“The man effectively eliminated himself from a contendership match because winning was less important to him than putting you through a ladder. You're under his skin, as I'm sure you're aware, but to make him do something so... Dumb. Bravo, Jill. He absolutely hates you. Which theoretically makes him that much dumber, at least against you. The downside, of course, he's willing to destroy himself for the sake of destroying you. Which would put you two at a draw. So then, the question would be, how does one make Carter Shaw destroy himself?”
“Fair point, Reegs.
One thing everyone ought to remember is he’s been actively damaging himself for a long time. It’s no real secret to anyone that his life has been in shambles for some time. We could beat the dead horse about how Philidor Holdings imploded and the results of that, but then Vanguard wouldn’t have anything more to ramble on about. No, it’s actually even simpler than that.”
If it had been possible for Regan’s eyes to light up, they may have just then. She did seem mildly more interested at the prospects of what Jill was about to say. Jill, for her part, tried to sit up a little straighter, her neck seemingly not causing her any issues at the moment.
“It’s nothing I haven’t said before, but everyone wants to put me into this tight little box. This tight little box where I’m nothing but a Reality Show cretin that isn’t capable of a second thought beyond my fame. They can’t fathom the thought that I’ve actually been right about Carter Shaw from the very beginning. BUT actually, it’s even further than that. Rewind all the way back to Turmoil.”
Regan sighs loudly. Jill nods, recognizing that’s still a sore spot for her as well. “I know, I know…just hear me out for a second. Way back when I was firmly establishing myself as THE next Main Event, Carter Shaw declared, in front of the world…
That I wasn’t going to make my name off of him. That no matter how good I THOUGHT I was, that it just wouldn’t happen. He denied the possibility. He stated there was no way, no how, was I getting one over on him.
And as he so often is, Carter Shaw was wrong. I spiked his head into the fucking mat. I ended his night, and I ended his crusade for the World Title. That was as close as he’s been to that prize since. Don’t believe me? Just ask him. He’s been crying about it ever since. He’ll claim he was never given his “rightful” shot. What an arrogant bastard. People call me entitled, but Carter Shaw has been whining for three months about how he DESERVES a one on one title match with the World Champion. He has labeled me a loser, a joke, all bark, and no bite, you name it, he’s said it. He wants so badly to talk up his Submission match victory in a match that he admits ended in a way it wasn’t supposed to. He knows that he was NEVER going to make me tap. Just like he knows his time on top is fucking numbered. The referee didn’t save me on that night, they saved him, and his paper-thin ego.”
Regan stands in silence, staring down at Jill as she continues on her tirade. She seems…indifferent. She stands with Jill, there’s no doubt, but she’s hardly invested.
“Right.
Hopefully, you end this, properly, on Clash. Then, we can look ahead to Havoc.”
After a light pat on Jill’s right shoulder, Regan exits, leaving Jill alone once more. Jill seems…content.
A loud crash jolts Jill up from the couch. She had been napping away most of the evening by the looks of it as she stood up, still in the same pajamas as before but it was clearly the middle of the night at this point. She called out for anyone to appear, but most of the staff had gone home for the day. She slowly crept forward and through the doorway that led to an adjacent hallway. At the end of the hall, she saw a form of what appeared to be a man, and she quickly flicked the lights on but he had disappeared into a different room.
“For fuck sakes.” She muttered, before realizing she had whoever it was cornered as they snuck into a spare bedroom. She had no weapon handy, and she was unaware of who was in that room but she was unafraid, as illogical as that may’ve been. As she kicked the door open, she saw a vaguely familiar face.
“What the fuck?”
There, standing before her was the same neckbeard incel from a week ago, from the autograph signing. However, this time he was dressed in all black, and his right hand gripped a camera.
“Graduating from harassment to break and enter?” She quipped. He did not seem at all amused.
“Shut up.” His tone varied wildly from their last encounter. He sounded defeated. “Yeah, you caught me, but I know your secret.”
Jill seemed wary of what that meant. For all anyone knew, she could have a myriad of secrets. “And what would that be?” She probed. He simply took two steps forward, quickly flashing a picture on his smartphone’s screen in her face, although it wasn’t clear what of.
“Is that…?”
“One in the same.”
“What do you want?”
“Money, obviously. You really ARE stupid, aren’t you? Maybe be a little bit more careful next time.”
Jill quickly went from worried to gleeful as she declared “I could say the same thing to you.”.
Before the “journalist” could even ask what she was alluding to, the window behind him creaked open and a security guard was climbing through. A big hulking man that was certainly not to be very friendly to Jill’s ‘guest’. He then tried to flee the only other way, past Jill Park. Normally he may not have had that thought, but perhaps the neck brace made him think she would allow him passage. He was wrong.
As he sprinted forward, Jill sprung forward with an elbow strike, catching him flush on the nose, and he crumbled to the floor almost instantly, writhing in pain as blood began to pool on the floor. Jill laughed as she ripped the neck brace off and crouched down by him as security circled like vultures.
“You know, I never caught your name.”
He continued to yell in agony, which continued to entertain Jill.
“So many people think they can manipulate me. They think because a version of life is played on television, really two versions actually…they think that they know me. They think they know who I am. They think there’s nothing behind this brash attitude. They foolishly think I am stupid. Just like you have. You thought you could waltz on in here, do what you please, and stole a cookie from the cookie jar. You actually thought you could get your reward. You really thought you could underestimate me, talk down to me, insult me, and get away with it. But let me tell you something.”
She callously grabs the man by his chin, focusing him to stare her directly in her cold eyes.
“It’s about time that common misconception gets rectified. I am the one who does the manipulating. I am the one who holds the cards, and I am the one that is always in control, whether you think I look the part of not, you stupid fucking asshole.”
She lets go of his chin, causing it to crack off the floor, resulting in more yelling. Jill stares at her hand with disgust for the blood that trickled upon it. She turns and walks out of the room. “Clean up this mess, and take the camera.” She says casually, but also coldly, to one of the security guards as she exits.
“How does one make Carter Shaw destroy himself?”
“An interesting, and thoughtful question posed by Regan, even if she may have missed the mark by just a touch. If there’s one thing I have noticed throughout this whole ordeal about Carter Shaw is that, inevitably, he WILL sabotage himself. Shaw is so incredibly short-sighted. He cares so much about the perception of who he is, that he will tie himself in knots to protect it, even if it’s at his own detriment. That is the story of Carter Shaw. Instead of talking about his FLUKE WIN at Revolution, and being content…he continued to poke the bear. He has continued to antagonize me and really…what even is his point at this stage? He thinks he holds all the cards. He thinks he’s always one step ahead when really? He is the one with EVERYTHING to lose. In one night I have the opportunity to right EVERY wrong that Carter Shaw has perpetrated on me.
Carter Shaw has made it his mission to try and protect this bogus spot he thinks he holds. He has been FIXATED on it. So much so, that when he actually had the chance to become number one contender, and potentially RECLAIM his throne…he threw it all away to attack me. This wasn’t a mistake, it wasn’t a coincidence. This was a calculated move by Shaw because he didn’t want to be EMBARRASSED by Dandy DiVito again.
All of his bravado and insistence that he’s some sort of uncrowned king, it all points back to one thing. Carter Shaw is afraid that Action Wrestling is passing him by. It wasn’t long ago that he was reigning as Action Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion, but that landscape has changed so dramatically since then.
To be completely honest, Shaw feverishly defended his PERCEIVED spot is hilarious. He isn’t the uncrowned king that he claims to be. He isn’t the top dog. He saw me climbing the ranks and he felt what it was like when I PINNED him back on that fateful night in December. He saw the hype around me and it drove him crazy because he was used to that hype. He wasn’t used to that spotlight. So when it came down to becoming Number 1 Contender or hurting me, he showed which was more important. That’s how fragile the ego of Carter Shaw is. He would rather have an inflated sense of self-worth than to actually accomplish anything further.
But I’m not your therapist, Shaw. I'm not gonna try and speak to your insecurities and hope that you can resolve them. Honestly, I don’t care. This Monday we step into one of the most dangerous matches in Action Wrestling. We step inside Hell in a Cell.
I won’t question how far you’re willing to go to win, because we all saw the depths you are willing to sink to. We saw when you tried to END MY CAREER in the Casino Night Ladder match. The only remaining doubt, actually, is me.
Everyone wants to place me into this role of ‘princess’. They wanna say I’m all bark and no bite. They want to pigeonhole me into this narrative that I cannot win when it matters. They’ve crafted this whole narrative where I won’t do what it takes when it comes down to it. They’ve created this persona of Jill Park that is soft, delusional, and easily defeated. I have tried to correct this delusion, but still, it persists.
So when I step into the cell with Carter Shaw…
I not only will look to eradicate the loss at the hands of Shaw.
I will not only look to end this PROBLEM between Shaw and myself.
There’s something much greater at stake.
I will END this fucking DELUSION that the “elite” members of Action Wrestling have convinced themselves of. After witnessing my ascension, they needed something to cling to. They needed to bastardize Jill Park. On top of all the other LIES constantly spread about me. I’ve been called vermin. Psychotic. Vile. Yet, in the same breath, these bad-faith actors call me a loser. Over-hyped.
It’s a calculated measure by men like Carter Shaw, hoping to DEFINE me by THEIR standards. They attempt to gaslight me into thinking that this is what defines me and THIS is the reality.
But it’s a LIE. So when I step through these ropes on Monday night, you better believe this, Carter Shaw:
I’m fighting for my CAREER. I'm fighting for my LIFE. You want to be seen as the alpha dog, you wanna be seen as the epitome of success in Action Wrestling. You think you’re gonna put Jill Park “in her place”. The “place” you think she DESERVES to be in, which of course is under your boot. Except, here’s the thing, Shaw. I ain’t gonna roll over and let you do that. I’m not gonna be fine with what I have and live to fight another day. This Hell in a Cell match simply means more to me than it does to you. For you, this is nothing more than an ego boost. To try and prove to the world that you belong at the top. Even as your empire crumbles, you scramble to grandstand and save every conceivable moment in the sun that you can.
For me? This is everything. This is the one defining moment for Jill Park to make her stand. To look you and all the other so-called “Main Eventers” in the fucking eye and flip them off. To tell them they are FULL OF SHIT. It’s the one moment where I turn this company on its head and I BURY Carter Shaw under the weight of his own ego. At the end of the night, I will stand y’all over the broken body of Carter Shaw, and the lasting consequences will echo throughout the locker room. Jill Park will no longer be denied. I will no longer be looked over. The world will realize the story they’ve been watching all along wasn’t exactly what they thought. Carter Shaw was never the main character of this story.
You’ll finally realize this was never about Carter Shaw protecting his spot.
It is, and always has been…
About the evolution of Jill Park.”