June 25, 2019
Jose Miguel Agrelot Coliseum: San Juan, Puerto Rico
“You looked good out there.”
Close the chapter on this one and put it in the books.
Lindsay Troy walks down a hallway of the Jose Miguel Agrelot Coliseum, matching stride-for-stride with Brandon Youngblood. The two friends are headed out for the night, presumably to grab a meal with Dan Ryan. It was a banner night all around: three wins between the trio and the reformation of the Inner Circle: a stable that came about many moons and many different faces ago, but with Lindsay Troy and Dan Ryan at the center of it all with the same singular purpose: complete and total domination.
Youngblood grunts a reply. Whether it’s a grunt of agreement or of dissent is in question.
“What, you don’t think so?”
“I mean," Brandon starts, "when you look at who I was in there with, kinda hard not to look good by comparison.”
Troy cracks a grin and, eventually, so does Youngblood. The man may not have seen active competition in nearly a decade, but he has shared with her sparse details of some prize fights he took amongst his travels since they last saw each other. Lindsay hasn’t been one to pry, figuring Brandon would open up more in his own time, but it was apparent in his match earlier in the evening that he hadn’t lost too many steps.
She was about to suggest he stop by her gym in Tampa once they got back stateside - training together is good for team bonding, after all - when their phones beeped simultaneously. Brandon ignored his but Lindsay, out of mom-like habit, reached into her pocket for hers.
A text, from new CEO Jaiden Rishel, with the next week’s card line-up.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me…..”
July 1, 2019
Outside the Coliseo de la Ciudad Deportiva
“You know…..I’ve got an appreciation for the classics.”
It’s early morning by the Fuente Luminosa, as another scorcher in Havana looms. Lindsay Troy’s never been one for much sleep; she’s a known insomniac and “the road” has never brought her any comfort, despite the luxury accommodations she can now afford to book herself into. Wanting to beat the heat and get this taping done and dusted, the Queen leans casually against the lip of the fountain’s seating ledge. Oversized sunglasses cover her hazel eyes and she wears a brand new “Inner Circle” tank top - which could be yours for the not-so-low CWF ShopZone price of $29.95 - and shorts. The Paramount Title is strapped around her waist.
Get used to seeing it because it’s not going anywhere. Silas.
Lindsay Troy: Being here in Havana, amidst the cobblestone streets, vintage cars, and baroque architecture, there’s a vibrancy and a hum that really spikes my energy levels. Maybe it’s the salsa music. Maybe it’s the rum.
Spoiler: It’s definitely the rum.
Lindsay Troy: I can’t help but feed off it.
It’s just too bad this tag match with Silas Artoria’s set to be a reeeaaalllllll buzzkill.
Boom goes the dynamite.
Lindsay Troy: Silas, I don’t know what it is with you, man. You put on this big dog and pony show on Evolution 54 where you wanted to prove what a LITERAL BADASS you were to me, The Outsider, whom you perceived as showing up in CWF with all my accolades and all my accomplishments but - in your mind - I had done nothing at all to deserve to be in your presence. So you - I dunno - flipped a switch in your brainpan and (air quotes) “transformed” into Neo With The Red Eyez to beat me up backstage. And left your cane behind like a moron. Then you do the same thing at Golden Intentions, get by with a little help with your “friend,” and you have the AUDACITY to stand in a fucking church and get pissy at me for doing the same?
She takes a breath. And then, another.
Lindsay Troy: Wowee wow, the hypocrisy and stupidity are strong with this one.
And then. If that wasn’t a shining example of the kind of intelligence I have to deal with when it comes to you, you went on some truly sanctimonious diatribe about coveting goods when, literally, the whole purpose of competing in this sport is to be the absolute best we can be and win titles along the way.
That are coveted.
You fucking imbecile.
Lindsay Troy: You know why I asked Brandon to join the party at the pay-per-view? Because it was fun. We like to have fun. We’re the Pisstake Express, you see. It wasn’t because I didn’t think I couldn’t beat you on my own, or because I’m some washed-up hack who needs back-up. No, I believe in sharing my triumphs. It wasn’t enough for Brandon to just show up in the Golden Intentions Rumble, all hi hello, haven’t been seen since 2012, how y’all doin? No...the man wanted to make a splash. And that splash meant cracking your skull a half-dozen times with your cane that I let him borrow and that you are never getting back. You might have others, but you’ll never have that one again.
And besides, if you’re SUCH A BADASS, Silas, you could’ve kicked out of the ”All Hail the Queen”, right?
I mean, EYE don’t think you could have, but maybe YOU do. And in your stupid little mind, where your stupid little “friend” lives, what you think is all that matters, I am sure.
But do us all a favor: in your next life, do not ever become a catechism teacher. And in this life, do not ever fix your mouth to talk about me or my son (she pats the faceplate of the Paramount Title) ever again. I’ve got bigger, and better, fish to fry.
Lindsay Troy: Hello, Duce. I’m so glad you’re back.
Gotta say, I’ve been waiting and hoping for another crack at you. I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that I didn’t really like how our last match ended. Probably because I hate to lose. And I’m sure you’re coming into this encounter looking for a modicum of revenge given how our last in-ring encounter went down, what with me bein’ a lil cheeky and playing a lil fast and loose with my referee duties.
The Queen shrugs.
Lindsay Troy: But that’s what you agreed to, after all. Who was gonna stop me? Jon Stewart? Byson?
She laughs, sincerely.
Lindsay Troy: Yeah, sure. Maybe if your bro, whom you just love and adore soooooo much, had done a better job of enforcing things - something you both got tacked onto the original stip - then maybe you would’ve seen a better outcome.
But I doubt it.
No, Duce, your time as the big bad around here has come and gone, just like Silas’s time as the Paramount Champion has come and gone. But I do want to correct that duke you’ve got over me, because for as young and hungry as you are, I’m as ravenous and cutthroat as they come.
The Lore of Lindsay Troy has only begun to be written here.
And what a tale it will be.
Fade to black.