Post by Deleted on Mar 18, 2018 12:15:37 GMT -5
We find our beloved Television Champion sitting by her pool in Las Vegas in a bikini, soaking in the rays, the sun reflecting off of the title sitting beside her. She takes a sip from her lemonade, the ice forming condensation on the glass. She lowers her sunglasses before removing them completely and sitting up, her elbows on her knees.
They say the measure of a man is not where he stands in times of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in moments of challenge and controversy. Martin Luther King, Jr. Monsters, however, are only a creation of man, created to strike fear in others to hide an insecurity they do not want exposed. Thus a monster becomes less of a man. Eavan Maloney.
Maloney gets up, puts her title on her shoulder, and starts pacing about her terrace.
But what is the measure of a woman? One who's had to climb from the bottom, who's had to fight to vote, fight to drive, fight to work, fight for independence, fight for a voice, fight to be seen as an equal. And at times women have come along to prove they were even better than the men who held them down. Women have had to fight to have NO be a definitive answer, instead of a simple plea of protest to be easily dismissed. You look at all the voices being heard today, from women who felt compelled to silence because a man held something over their heads.
THAT… is a measure of a woman.
Maloney slams a fist on a marble countertop as she focuses in on the camera.
Mr. Armstrong, the fact you have to speak for your ‘monster' speaks volumes. Has he regressed so much that all he knows is destruction? Has he removed all sense of decency solely for the opportunity for advancement? If that is so, then he truly is a monster. A weak shell of a weaker man. And by simple association with Mr. Bishop, that makes you a monster as well, for you force the spotlight on somebody who does not deserve it. Yes, he may be undefeated thus far, but this will be his first real test.
Maloney tosses the championship aside and leans against a marble column.
Since I broke into this business, I've been dealt my share of monsters. From unscrupulous bookers who took advantage of me in all ways you can imagine. Blowhards and rednecks who said I couldn't cut it in this business. Men who held women down time and again, only to be called out for it, and left on the mat with my hand raised in victory.
Just recently, I went up against a man who called himself a Ghost. Another monster who preyed on the weak. I hunted him down until finally he could go nowhere but through me, and he was proven to be just another weak man who crumbled in under two minutes. He overlooked me, thought I would be another victim, until he realized not only do I fight back, but I broke him. That is why I hold this championship.
Last week, the Hobo got his opportunity, and just like the Ghost, just like the others, they were left laying in their pools of inadequacy while I stood above them in victory.
During this time, I went to Ireland, where I had to face monsters bigger than they, bigger than you, and bigger than Bishop. Some were literal animals, some were warriors, but the biggest monster I had to face was myself. Yes, I too, have a monster within. My monster grew from the effects of self-hatred, self-sabotage, self-indulgence. I was a hot-headed maniac who would turn on a person on a dime if I felt it would help me get ahead. I was self-righteous, believing what I felt and knew was gospel and what the world knew were lies. And that monster and I fought, damn near to the death, until it too had to kneel to me. I faced who I was, and what I had to change before losing everything. And in that battle, I found out more about myself than I knew existed. The monster within is very real, and very misguided. I had to build myself back up from nothing, to be the Warrior I was meant to be.
Maloney walks over to the chair where she had tosses the title earlier and sits down, placing the championship on her lap.
So, Mr. Armstrong, Mr. Bishop. You two truly feel you can be the one that goes bump in the night, that you can rage and rattle my cage, and get to fall? It will not happen because I have fought bigger and darker monsters than you can ever fathom, and I came out beaten and scarred, yet still standing. This Television Championship is mine until I choose to give it up for bigger challenges. This week is not that time. I will walk into Salt Lake City as Champion, and walk out of Salt Lake City STILL the Television Champion.
This Monster Lives…
Maloney winks before putting her sunglasses back on, and reclining in her lawn chair again, returning to her sunbathing.
They say the measure of a man is not where he stands in times of comfort and convenience, but where he stands in moments of challenge and controversy. Martin Luther King, Jr. Monsters, however, are only a creation of man, created to strike fear in others to hide an insecurity they do not want exposed. Thus a monster becomes less of a man. Eavan Maloney.
Maloney gets up, puts her title on her shoulder, and starts pacing about her terrace.
But what is the measure of a woman? One who's had to climb from the bottom, who's had to fight to vote, fight to drive, fight to work, fight for independence, fight for a voice, fight to be seen as an equal. And at times women have come along to prove they were even better than the men who held them down. Women have had to fight to have NO be a definitive answer, instead of a simple plea of protest to be easily dismissed. You look at all the voices being heard today, from women who felt compelled to silence because a man held something over their heads.
THAT… is a measure of a woman.
Maloney slams a fist on a marble countertop as she focuses in on the camera.
Mr. Armstrong, the fact you have to speak for your ‘monster' speaks volumes. Has he regressed so much that all he knows is destruction? Has he removed all sense of decency solely for the opportunity for advancement? If that is so, then he truly is a monster. A weak shell of a weaker man. And by simple association with Mr. Bishop, that makes you a monster as well, for you force the spotlight on somebody who does not deserve it. Yes, he may be undefeated thus far, but this will be his first real test.
Maloney tosses the championship aside and leans against a marble column.
Since I broke into this business, I've been dealt my share of monsters. From unscrupulous bookers who took advantage of me in all ways you can imagine. Blowhards and rednecks who said I couldn't cut it in this business. Men who held women down time and again, only to be called out for it, and left on the mat with my hand raised in victory.
Just recently, I went up against a man who called himself a Ghost. Another monster who preyed on the weak. I hunted him down until finally he could go nowhere but through me, and he was proven to be just another weak man who crumbled in under two minutes. He overlooked me, thought I would be another victim, until he realized not only do I fight back, but I broke him. That is why I hold this championship.
Last week, the Hobo got his opportunity, and just like the Ghost, just like the others, they were left laying in their pools of inadequacy while I stood above them in victory.
During this time, I went to Ireland, where I had to face monsters bigger than they, bigger than you, and bigger than Bishop. Some were literal animals, some were warriors, but the biggest monster I had to face was myself. Yes, I too, have a monster within. My monster grew from the effects of self-hatred, self-sabotage, self-indulgence. I was a hot-headed maniac who would turn on a person on a dime if I felt it would help me get ahead. I was self-righteous, believing what I felt and knew was gospel and what the world knew were lies. And that monster and I fought, damn near to the death, until it too had to kneel to me. I faced who I was, and what I had to change before losing everything. And in that battle, I found out more about myself than I knew existed. The monster within is very real, and very misguided. I had to build myself back up from nothing, to be the Warrior I was meant to be.
Maloney walks over to the chair where she had tosses the title earlier and sits down, placing the championship on her lap.
So, Mr. Armstrong, Mr. Bishop. You two truly feel you can be the one that goes bump in the night, that you can rage and rattle my cage, and get to fall? It will not happen because I have fought bigger and darker monsters than you can ever fathom, and I came out beaten and scarred, yet still standing. This Television Championship is mine until I choose to give it up for bigger challenges. This week is not that time. I will walk into Salt Lake City as Champion, and walk out of Salt Lake City STILL the Television Champion.
This Monster Lives…
Maloney winks before putting her sunglasses back on, and reclining in her lawn chair again, returning to her sunbathing.