Well lookie there. I was right. About everything. I said I would destroy everyone's new little fave and I did. I made predictions that all came true. But, hell, I'll admit there were a couple of things that happened that even I didn't see coming. First, Tarah Nova gets booted from her GM position. Ok, maybe the massive blood loss and Hazumi interference had something to do with it. Still, things weren't adding up. Why would Tarah Nova get ousted if she was the perfect puppet for the Board? And then, near the end of the night, I observe something that truly boggles my mind. That's you, Astraea, doing absolutely nothing. I thought the girl that took out Madison Kaline would do
something to help herself gain an advantage. You're talking about just being there to "scout", but we both know the truth. Then, I take a gander at the card for this week. And everything falls into place. After all, who gains direct control over Empire with no more Tarah Nova? That's right, DEDEDE. Who does he book for the fallout show against his fully-rested pet wrestler? Me, the one who's always calling himself and the Board out on their bullshit. You're saying that you "politely declined" to wrestle at Bloodletter. Uh huh, sure. I'm sure it had absolutely NOTHING to do with the fact that DEDEDE knew I was gonna be beaten up after a No DQ match. It's not like DEDEDE would want his shining Elitist upon the hill to defeat someone who's been become a real thorn in his side. Gosh, I'd
really hate to rain on y'all's parade but there's one teensy thing that you and DEDEDE are forgetting about me. I've been in this crazy business for ten years. I've been in countless matches where I've been torn limb-from-limb. I've proudly worn more than a few crimson masks. If you really believe that one little hardcore match is enough to keep me down, you've got another thing comin'. But hey, enough about me. Let's talk a little bit about you, Miss Jordan.
Since you seem to have some selective memory issues, allow me to take you back. Back to that fateful day you put Madison Kaline on the shelf. The day we had our first feed interaction. Oh, you don't remember? Let me refresh you. You were going on about how you were proud of taking her down and wouldn't take any crap about it. You know what I did in response? I retweeted you. Yes, you heard that correctly. I actually agreed with you. I was even proud of you. I thought to myself "This girl is grabbing the bull by the horns and taking what's hers. Go you, do your thing!" In some weird alternate universe, we might have even been friends. But then, goddamn it, you went and sold out. Now DEDEDE's got his mark on you. God, he might as well have whipped his dick out and pissed on you. And you Astraea, now you've got your head shoved so far up his ass you might as well be checking him for colon cancer. I'm supposed to be the delusional one, right? Just look at how many delusions you've got. No one knew who I was when I entered? That's funny, I wonder why so many of Portland's village idiots were getting up in my grill if they supposedly didn't know me. Your stuff got the biggest pop? Honey, I don't know what show you were watching. 'Cause whatever it was it sure as shit wasn't Bloodletter. You're boasting about all this "superior athlete" nonsense like it actually matters. Take a peek at Andy once she's regained consciousness. You can have all the athletics and fancy moves in the world. However, if you ain't got that killer instinct, you're taking the L. You used to have the instinct, Astraea. But now, I'm not so sure. A real killer would have jumped on easy prey like an exhausted Aria Jaxon. Maybe you're going soft. But, y'know, congratulations on putting down the Old Yeller that is Miss Manami, I guess. You seem to forget just who got the worst of the favoritism in that tournament. Hint: it was me. If no one had been playing favorites, I would have blown past the first round no questions asked. Who knows, maybe I would have beaten you too. Yeah, I haven't taken Consuela to the edge...because I haven't fought her yet. Duh. I doubt your talent? No way, I know you've got talent. I realized it when you beat down Madison. But "Gawd-given" talent? That's a bunch of shit and you know it. The only thing DEDEDE gave you was a rocket strapped to your ass. Y'see, that's what makes us different. Whenever I hit the ring, whenever I gain a victory, I'm doing it 100% on my own. I'll never be anything less than 100% me. I don't rely on anyone else to prop me up. I don't need a Gawd Complex. Or is it Bomplex? Heh, that's more fitting anyway. Because this whole thing
will eventually blow up in your face. That's the danger of letting someone else determine your worth. What happens when you screw up? What happens if, god forbid, I take you down this week. Next day, you're getting the cold shoulder from your beloved Chairman. And he's moving on to whoever his next big project is. You wanna know what I think? I think that somewhere deep down inside your heart, Astraea, you know I'm right. You responded to my little tweet because you're afraid of losing your newfound power. You're saying I'm jealous of you because you know that in the end, this whole Gawd Complex thing will collapse. Well, you can quit projecting now. I'm proud of who I am and what I own. I'm proud to call my RV home. I don't need a golden throne to remind me of just how damn good I am. The only gold I'm interested in is that Women's Championship. DEDEDE should have never put you in my crosshairs. 'Cause this ain't Chiraq. We're spitting distance from my hometown, Seattle. This is
my yard. Once you finally realize that, when you're out cold in the middle of the ring, it'll be too late.
#DaisyBetter
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