Tag Team Unity

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Off Camera

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It is a bitter cold day in Boston, Massachusetts as Bart Jones, the father of Angelica and Kayla Jones, together known as The Sisterhood, stands in a bright and yet, by contrast dreary, cemetery near Our Lady of the Annunciation Catholic Church where the family grew up.  Age has caught up with him.  Age had not been kind to him even before he returned to the United States from Russia decades ago to reunite with his daughters.  Now the gray hairs and bristly beard tells the story of an old war horse who has been through pure hell on earth during his lifetime and has yet survived it all.  He survived the Russian Mafia going after him, he survived being separated from his family, he survived his daughters turning on him, and he stands here today, alive, well, and, as far as he knows, fully reunited with his children, with Angelica and Kayla, just as he had wanted so long ago.

Or so he thinks…

The grizzled and aged former FBI agent stands at the entrance to the cemetery’s Mausoleum.  He recently received a call from his daughters, Angelica specifically, with one simple request: meet them at the cemetery.  Bart has no idea what Angelica and Kayla want but when they ask to meet them at “the cemetery” he knows which one they mean.  They mean the Mausoleum that contains the remains of Kelly Jones, Angelica and Kayla’s mother, and Bart’s wife.

This particular spot is very important to the Jones family and especially to Angelica and Kayla.  Therefore, Bart knows that whenever they want to meet here that it must be something important that they want to discuss and it is for that reason that Bart is slightly concerned.  He can only wait until they arrive before he can find out what is going on.  He has been waiting for an hour now…

…his wait is over.

A hand suddenly grabs him by the throat and squeezes tightly.  Bart’s FBI training instinctively takes over and he snatches a hold of the hand and pries it off.  He is about to turn the person into a hammerlock until he sees that the hand belongs to…

“Kayla…”

Bart’s voice trails off as he lays his eyes upon his younger daughter standing there before him glaring angry dagger-like eyes into his very heart and soul.  She is wearing black leggings, black flats, and a dark red dress that stops just above the knee.  Her long red hair hangs  unrestrained to just below the shoulder.  Immediately Bart releases his grip upon her hand and backs away slowly, cautiously.

“Kayla…” he repeats “…what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” She asks in an angry tone. “You should know what’s wrong!”

Bart is about to begin his defense when someone speaks up for him instead…

“Whoa, back off, sis…”

Bart and Kayla turn to see Angelica Jones approaching from the other direction.  Angelica is wearing denim jeans, a long sleeve black sweater, and a black leather jacket.  Her long red hair is also left to hang unrestrained to just below the shoulders.

“…we need to hear him out.”

“Hear him out?”  Kayla looks at her older sister incredulously. “Are you freaking nuts?!  Are you defending him?!”

“I may be nuts,” Angelica smirks knowingly “but I am NOT defending him.  I’m just saying we need to give him a chance to offer an explanation and answer some of our questions before we kick his ass.”

Kayla folds her arms over her chest. “Fine.”

“Uh, girls,” Bart interjects “if I may ask, why do you think I deserve to have my ass kicked?”

“Oh we don’t THINK you deserve to have your ass kicked,” Kayla snaps back at him “we KNOW you deserve to have your ass kicked!”

“Kayla!” Angelica snaps. “Back…off…”

Kayla sighs and shakes her head. “Sorry…”

Bart turns his attention away from the now pouting Kayla towards the still calm and collected older sibling Angelica Jones.

“What’s wrong, Angel?”

“I don’t quite know how to put it, dad.” Angelica says as she thinks things through in her mind. “I just don’t know how to properly say it or how to properly ask this, but…”

Angelica shuts her eyes tightly and sighs deeply before letting out a deep breath.  “Fact is, dad, Kayla and I recently discovered something troubling, something disturbing, and, quite honestly, you are connected to it and you owe us an explanation.”

Bart frowns.

“I wish I could deny it.  I wish I could say that I am not connected but the fact is that I know there is a good chance that I am connected.  My time working with the nation’s top law enforcement agency has caused me to make many powerful friends…as well as many powerful enemies…”

Angelica tilts her head to one side. “Right, so tell me this, does the name Anastasia mean anything to you?”

Bart and Angelica stare at one another for an indeterminate amount of time before Bart finally lets out a sigh and nods his head.

“Yes…I adopted her while I was overseas in Russia…”

“We figured that much out on our own.” Angelica remarks. “You need to tell us the rest of the story, dad.  And be honest with us.  Hold nothing back.”

“Her mother was a woman named Nicola, a prostitute who worked for the Bratva.”

“The Russian Mafia?” Angelica asked.

“That’s right.” Bart nods his head. “During that time she must have gotten pregnant and had that child.  In any event, she kept the child and tried to maintain her.  But obviously, raising a child can be expensive and she wasn’t getting much from what the Bratva was paying.  So she started cheating them out of their cut of the money.”

“I take it the mafia tried to make her disappear.”

“They tried once to make her disappear, yes…but I stopped them.  Nicola realized that the Bratva would continue to go after her until she either paid them or they killed her.  So she made the kind of decision no parent should have to make.”

“She gave up her child to you.” Angelica suggests.

“That’s right, fearing that she could no longer safely protect and raise her child, she gave her up to me. And I agreed to raise her at least until she was of age that she could make her own way.  I agreed because I knew better than anyone else what it was like to be a parent who could no longer protect his children, and thus had to give them up.”

That was NOT a good thing to say…

“YOU FUCKING HYPOCRITE!”

Kayla, who up to this point had been boiling over with rage but had managed to keep it contained to some extent, lunges forward and strikes her father with a closed fist right hand to the jaw.  Bart staggers backward, hitting the wall of the Mausoleum.  Angelica rushes forward and gets in between her sister and their father before any more blows can be dealt by Kayla.

“Kayla…please stop…”

“He gave us up!” Kayla exclaims loudly and angrily. “He gave us away like a damn coward claiming that he could no longer protect us but then he runs off to Russia and starts raising some whore’s kid?!  He is a hypocrite, Angel!”

Angelica sighs and nods her head.  She then turns around to face Bart, their father, who is rubbing his jaw in pain.

“She is right.  That was hypocritical of you.  If you couldn’t protect us, why try and protect her?”

“What should I have done?” Bart asks. “Should I have left the mother and child alone to fend for themselves?  You know what would have happened to them.”

“No we don’t.” Kayla remarks sounding almost like a petulant child.

“Be realistic, Kayla.  You know what would have happened to them against The Bratva.”

“Yeah, they would have been killed.” Angelica answers.

“So yes, I adopted the child.  But not legally.”

“What do you mean?” Angelica asks.

“I mean there was no legal adoption made.  The United States government doesn’t recognize it because I never left Russia with her.”

“Is that so?” Angelica asks, her face going slightly pale.

“Yes…” Bart’s voice trails off showing some concern “…why do you ask?”

“A woman calling herself Anastasia Jones recently started stalking us and harassing us.  She claims she is our sister.”

Bart looks genuinely shocked. “I don’t know what to say.  I guess it is possible that Anastasia could have made it to the United States but…who brought her here?  And why?”

“That’s what we’d like to know.” Angelica answers back.

“Your best bet to get those answers would be to ask her yourself.”

“Bullshit!” Kayla tries to lunge forward again but Angelica is in the way this time.

“I do not have the answers you want!” Bart exclaims. “I truly am sorry but you will not get any answers from me because I do have any.”

“Then we’ll talk to Anastasia ourselves.”

“Just be careful.” Bart answers back. “She comes from a truly deadly and dangerous life in a truly dangerous country.  I have not seen her in a long time.  I do not know what she has become since we parted ways.”

“Typical of Jones men.” Kayla spits out. “None of you are good fathers.”

With that Kayla turns and storms away.  Angelica sighs and turns towards her father.  Angelica embraces her father in a hug.

“Thank you for talking to us, dad.”

“Anytime.  Just like I said, be careful.”

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On Camera

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From the sky we see the iconic image of Madison Square Garden in New York City extending up to the heavens in the New York City skyline.  Suddenly the camera angle cuts from hovering high into the heavens to a shot from ground level at the entrance area of the world’s most famous arena.  Angelica Jones then enters the scene from stage left.  The lovely red head is wearing a sleek and clean black pantsuit with a two button jacket and a white blouse underneath.  Her feet are encased in black high heeled pumps that match her pantsuit and she has black sunglasses covering her eyes.  The strange thing about the Boston native is what she is carrying with her today; in her left arm is a cardboard cutout of Jacob Goodman and in her other arm is a cardboard cutout of Syren.

“Welcome to New York City, the Big Apple!  I prefer Boston but, eh, this place isn’t too bad.”

Angelica smirks.  She then sets the cardboard cutouts down, one on her left and one on her right, and she stands between the two of them.

“The Trios Tournament is coming up and you have to love the combination of lethal lottery with a test of endurance that this unique event creates.  Not only do you have to survive with tag team partners you have never been with before, perhaps even people you do not like, but you have to do it for three matches!”

She holds up three fingers. “You have to win a one night single elimination tournament with this team of three that you may or may not like in order to get the prize and if you can, if you can endure the pain and suffering, if you can manage to work with your greatest enemies, then you can potentially walk out of Supreme Saturday with a Trios Contract that guarantees you a title shot.”

“Now I look at my opposition in this tournament and I see teams like Dawn Lohan, Alexis Quinne, and Bree Lancaster.  Bree may be new, but Dawn and Alexis sure are not and their twitter arguing is very public.  They can’t get along.”

Angelica shakes her head. “Not a chance.  And what about MY opponents specifically?  Ace Marshall, Jake Starr, and Derek Adonis…well no one can trust Ace, Jake hates everybody, and Derek is a sorry sack of shit.”

“Now I could go on and on but the point is that these teams are a great big pile of jumbled up crap.  Each team has so many combustible elements that we are all just waiting anxiously for them to explode at any moment.  Now I know what you’re thinking.  What is so different about this message?  Of course that’s what Trios is all about.  This is nothing new that I’m saying!”

Angelica laughs lightly. “I will TELL you what is so special and unique about this particular Trios tournament and that special and unique element is this team right here!”

She looks to her left at the Jacob Goodman cardboard cutout and then she looks to her right at the Syren cardboard cutout.

“Me, Syren, and Jackson Goodman here…”

Jacob (Angelica): “That’s Jacob, Ms. Jones…”

Yes, that was Angelica speaking on behalf of the cardboard cutout.  Her lips even moved, leaving no doubts…

“Whatever…me, Syren, and Goodman are a united force!  We are ready to work together to win this tournament!  Right guys?!”

Syren (Angelica): “Like, totally for sure, Angelica!  You are soooo awesome and this is a complete honor and privilege to be teaming with a legend like you!  Finally I get to team with someone with talent unlike that lazy bitch Ravyn!”

Yeah, that was Angelica too…she’s a terrible ventriloquist…

Jacob (Angelica): “It is an honor to be working with you, Ms. Jones, and I hope by teaming with you and by allowing you to carry my sorry ass to the Trios Tournament Victory that I will learn something from you.”

Angelica nods her head. “Yes, that is a dream of everyone in SCW, to learn from yours truly, but unfortunately neither you nor Syren will ever be quite as good as I am, but it is a good thing that you two losers will never be quite as awesome or as talented and definitely not as sexy,”

She winks at the camera “as The Dragon.  Am I right?”

Syren (Angelica):  “That’s right, Angelica!  I will never be as good as you, no matter how hard I try!”

Angelica snickers nastily. “But together…”

Angelica pauses, thinking over what she is about to say, and then changes her mind…

“…well, mainly ME, because I’m gonna carry this team during Supreme Saturday! I will make history in Madison Square Garden where I have made history time and time again!  I will single handedly win the Trios Tournament while you two can sit back, relax, and watch and be grateful to me, singing my praises afterwards along with the rest of the peons and peasants who are lucky to be in the presence of greatness, greatness like Angelica Jones!”

Jacob (Angelica):  “Thank you, Ms. Jones, for putting up with us and for winning the Trios Tournament for us!”

Syren (Angelica):  “Yes, thank you Angelica!”

“You are welcome, Goodman.  You are welcome Syren.  After all, it is thanks to me, me and me alone, that we will defeat the three stooges of Ace Marshall, Jake Starr, and Derek Adonis.  And it will be thanks to me and me alone that we will advance to win it all!  ALL HAILL JONES!”

Jacob & Syren (Angelica): “ALL HAIL ANGELICA JONES!”

Motivation

 

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Off Camera

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October of 1990

It’s quiet and serene inside of the Daughters of Paul Convent as we open inside staring down a rather long and also very simple, undecorated hallway.  The simplicity of this décor goes beyond just the lack of paintings and portraits.  The floors are a simple laminate brown and the walls are painted a similar shade of brown.  Thin Criss-crossing wood boards cause the windows to resemble a cage as they create dozens of symmetrical box shapes, all of them lining the walls of the hallway that overlook the outside of this convent.

The clicking of high heels across the laminate floor breaks the peaceful silence.  This particular Daughter of Paul is walking with a determined pace, as evident by the noisy clicks of her heels.  Eventually she comes into view.  She is wearing the traditional nun habit consisting of a long black tunic that is long enough to reach the ground.  The tunic is secured with a woolen belt that holds a set of rosary beads.  There is a white neckpeace and cross around her neck.  Finally the headpiece is done in three parts, a black coif secured by a wimple in the back.  The few strands of red hair sticking out from the front of her headpiece tells you that this is 18 year old Angelica Jones.

The young sister continues her intense, determined stride down the hall, and as determined as she walks, there is still what appears to be a look of concern and nervousness upon her face.  It could even be described as dread.  She knows she has to make a difficult decision.  Or perhaps, that decision has already been made.

It isn’t long before she reaches the end of the hall and she is facing a door.  The redheaded nun reaches her hand towards the knob, turns it, and pushes it open.  Jones steps inside and immediately sees the Mother Superior in her office, similarly dressed as Angelica.  Mother Superior is at her desk.  Angelica humbly looks down at her feet.

“I apologize for the intrusion, Mother Superior.”

“No need to apologize.” She motions to a seat near the desk. “Come, please sit.”

Angelica looks up and smiles.  She walks over and sits down in the chair.  Mother Superior and Angelica exchange stares for a few moments before Mother Superior speaks up, breaking the ice.

“So, how may I help you, Sister Angelica?”

Jones has thought long and hard about how she wants to approach this.  She decides to just be blunt and tell her.

“Mother Superior, I…” she sighs “…I need to leave the convent.”

The eyes of the lead nun grow wide as she hears this rather startling, surprising news.

“I must admit that this is shocking news to say the least.  Are you…” she pauses as she tries to regain her composure “…are you ok?”

Angelica shakes her head. “I’m not ok, Mother.  Evil thoughts have entered my mind.  They will turn to sin, I am sure of it, and I need to leave the convent before those sins poison the Daughters of Paul.”

“Evil, sinful thoughts enter our minds all the time, Sister Angelica.  The important thing is that you do not act upon them.  Have you acted upon them?”

Again Jones shakes her head. “No.”

“Then just continue in prayer.  Pray constantly to St. Paul and to the Blessed Virgin Mary and they will continue to assist in guiding you and to pray for you on your behalf.”

She reaches out and takes Angelica by the hand and squeezes it tightly, comfortingly.

“You will be fine.”

“I wish I could believe you, Mother Superior, because my time here at the convent has been wonderful.  It truly has been wonderful.  You and my other sisters have helped me in so many ways that I could never begin to thank you.”

Angelica reaches up and wipes a tear from her eye. “You helped me to accept my mother’s death…you helped me when I was suicidal…leaving here is the last thing I want to do, but unfortunately it is something that I need to do.”

Mother Superior hands Angelica a tissue.  Angelica nods in appreciation as she takes it and dabs her eyes with it.

“You may have sinful thoughts but you have not sinned yet, and even if you did sin, one sin or multiple sins is not reason enough for you to have to leave us.  That’s what confession is for.  Yet you feel you need to leave us due to one potential sin that has not happened yet.  Why is this?”

Angelica tosses the tissue away in the garbage.  She looks up at Mother Superior with a stone-faced stoic gaze.

“Hatred has entered my heart, Mother Superior; a hatred unlike any other I have ever felt before in my entire life.”

“Who or what is this hatred directed towards, Sister Angelica?”

“My father.”

Mother Superior frowns as she studies Angelica closely and intensely. “Your father is in Russia, correct?”

Jones shakes her head. “Not anymore.  I received a letter from him the other day.  He is back in the United States and wants to see me.”

“Your father is about to return to your life.  That should be viewed as a blessing, Sister Angelica.”

“A blessing?!” Angelica’s face contorts from a stoic gaze into a look of pure rage. “Him playing GI Joe for the FBI is the reason that thug from Russia came and killed my mother!  And instead of doing his fatherly duty he sent me and my sister Kayla to social services!  I have no idea where Kayla is now, she may be dead for all I know, and as for me…”

She motions to her tunic “…I ended up here!  Do you think I wanted to be a nun?  Do you think I wanted this life?!  NO!  I’m sick and fucking tired of the religious life, a religious life I never wanted, a religious life I only put up with because I knew my mother was dead and thought that my father would never return!”

Angelica buries her head in her hands and starts to sob.  The outburst from Angelica does not phase her in the least and Mother Superior, in a motherly fashion, reaches out and pats her on the back in a comforting fashion.  Eventually Angelica does look back up at Mother Superior with a shamed look upon her face.

“I…” she sighs “…I’m so sorry, Mother Superior.  I didn’t mean for all of that to come out.  And I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.  You and my sisters have been all too kind to me and I am truly grateful, despite how I just sounded.”

“It’s quite alright, Sister Angelica.  You have every right to be upset.”

“But unfortunately it’s true, I never wanted this.  I stuck with it only because I knew the Church and the Daughters of Paul would protect me, that and without either of my parents I had nothing to live for.”

Mother Superior tilts her head to one side and frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I already told you, my father wants to see me, and with him back in the picture I now have something to live for…” her voice trails off as she stares at Mother Superior, who expects an answer.

“And what would that be?”

“…revenge.”

There is a pause from Mother Superior as she takes it all in before she finally nods her head. “I see…”

“And now you see why I have to leave the convent?”

Mother Superior nods her head. “Yes I do.”

The two women stand up in unison.  They lean towards one another and embrace in a tight hug.  They smile upon breaking the hug.

“Thank you for everything you have done for me, Mother.”

“We at the Daughters of Paul want only to help.  But tell me, what do you plan to do now?”

“I do not know for certain.  One of the sisters suggested I look into a full contact sport such as kickboxing, boxing, or even wrestling.  She thinks it will help me to exert some of my anger in a more constructive way.”

“Perhaps.  But Sister Angelica, if I may give you one last piece of advice?

“Yes?”

She places a hand on Angelica’s shoulder. “Your mother was murdered but try and be at peace with the fact that she is in heaven with God.  Your father may have wronged you but do not let your anger eat away at you.  Anger is a natural emotion and not a sin but if we do not control our anger then we are in danger of becoming a monster.”

“It’s too late for that, Mother Superior.  I am already a monster.  My mother was taken from me and my father ran away like a damn coward, all the while the man guilty of the crime is still free.  Whether its kickboxing, boxing, or wrestling, I will train and I will use my training to get the opportunity to hurt people.  And the more I hurt people the happier I’ll be.  I live to hurt people now, Mother Superior, and I’m sorry, but that does make me a monster.”

Present Day

“Angelica…”

Angelica blinks her eyes a few times.

“ANGELICA!”

Now that did it.  The yelling definitely did it.  Angelica Jones sits straight up, startled awake by the sound of someone shouting her name.  She half expects to find herself back in The Daughters of Paul convent with Mother Superior but instead she finds herself in her own living room in her large but quaint home in Boston, Massachusetts.  Instead of the nun’s habit she thought she was wearing, she is instead wearing blue jeans and a black SCW t-shirt.   Her long red hair is pulled into a ponytail in the back.  It takes a few seconds for it to register with her that her encounter with Mother Superior was all a dream.  A flashback, rather, to the day she left the convent.  And who exactly is it that is shouting at her?  Obviously it isn’t Mother Superior…

“Angelica?  Are you ok?”

It’s Kayla Jones, her younger sister.  Standing a few feet away, Kayla is wearing a knee length red skirt and a black long sleeved sweater.  Her feet are encased in matching red flats.  Her long red hair hangs unrestrained to just below her shoulders.  The younger Jones sibling is only slightly concerned but concerned nonetheless as she gazes at her older sibling sitting up on the sofa.

“Huh?  What?”

“Are you ok?” Kayla says, repeating her question.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine.”

“That’s good, because I was at the front door for a few minutes but you didn’t answer.  I had to use the key you gave me.”

“I guess I was a little tired.” Angelica chuckles lightly. “I’ve been preparing for my match against Kordy.”

“Good, because you need this win.  You’re so close to getting into the semi-finals and you can’t afford a loss right now.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Kayla sits down next to Angelica on the sofa.   She motions to a photograph Angelica has in her hands.

“What’s that a picture of?”

“That’s uh…”

Angelica looks at it for a moment and then smiles warmly at the image staring back at her, the image of two nuns standing side by side.

“…that’s me with Mother Superior back when I was eighteen on my last day at the convent.”

“Wow…” Kayla stares at the picture in awe “…I always knew you were a nun but you always kept that part of your life secret, even from me.  You never wanted to talk about it.”

“It was a tough part of my life, sis.” Angelica says with a frown on her face.  “I went into the convent still feeling suicidal over our mother’s death.  These aren’t always the best of memories, Kayla.”

“But you persevered.  You were strong and you made it.  You are a survivor.”

Angelica shakes her head. “No, I wasn’t strong.  I attempted suicide many times at the convent but I failed.  I wanted to take the easy way out.  The sisters and Mother Superior helped me through the pain, yes, but it wasn’t until this last day until I finally found a way to deal with it.”

Angelica smiles at Kayla. “You’ve always been stronger than me.  Our mother died…and then you went to live with an abusive drunk who beat and molested you…you had more of an excuse to be suicidal than I did and yet you never once made an attempt.  You are the real survivor.  You are the stronger one between us.”

Tears are forming in the eyes of both siblings as they embrace in a tight hug.

“No, we’re BOTH survivors!” Kayla remarks.

“Ok…I can live with it!” Angelica answers back.

Upon breaking the embrace, Kayla motions back to the picture again.

“You mentioned your last day at the convent.  This picture was taken that day.  What happened that day that helped you deal with your grief?”

“I resolved to never again wallow in my own self-pity.  That was led to the suicide attempts.  Instead of crying about it I decided to do something about it.  That’s what mom would have wanted.  So after leaving the convent I sought out a trainer, someone who would help me become a pro-wrestler.  Someone close to me had suggested full contact sports as a way to deal with my emotional issues.  And my issues were the same ones you still have today.”

Kayla frowns. “Our father…”

“You got it.  I hated him at the time and wanted him to pay.  I let that anger and desire for revenge eat away at me until…”

“Until?”

“…until I finally let it go.  Until I finally forgave him.”

Kayla stares into her older sister’s eyes.  Kayla shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“I don’t believe you.  Your voice betrays you and so do your eyes.  You don’t fully forgive him, do you?”

After sighing Angelica shakes her head. “No, I don’t.  I thought I had forgiven him and maybe I had but now, after learning he had concealed an adopted daughter from us, some girl he picked up while in Russia, well I just don’t know what to think about him anymore.  Do you know what I mean?”

Kayla nods her head. “I know exactly what you mean.  And I think there’s only one of two ways we can deal with this.”

“We have a talk with dad or we talk to Anastasia.”

“Anastasia WANTS to talk to us,” Kayla remarks “so I’m afraid of giving her what she wants right away.”

“I agree.” Angelica answers back. “Let’s talk to dad.”

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On Camera

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The skyline over New York City is dusk with very little light due to the sun having just gone down.  Despite this, the activity of the city is still nonstop.  There is a reason that this is the city that never sleeps and it becomes evident through the hustling and bustling of the cars on the roads below and the noise, from car horns to sirens and anything else you may expect from the Big Apple.  The iconic image of the Brooklyn Bridge, spanning the East River, tells us that we are in Brooklyn, one of New York City’s most populous Burroughs, which sits on the western end of Long Island.

As beautiful as this New York City skyline may be, it is time now for us to cut from an aerial view to a ground view, down below to right at the entrance to the Brooklyn Bridge.  We can see the activity from cars going to and fro on this famous icon of New York City and we can also see some pedestrians walking the bridge.  One particular individual, though, we see is standing still, not moving.  We move in closer, hoping that perhaps she’ll turn around so that we can get a better look, for right now her back is turned towards the camera as she stares out at the East River.

And just then, as the camera approaches, she turns around.  This is Angelica Jones.  The beautiful redheaded Boston native is wearing a sophisticated four button skirt suit.  The upper suit portion has long sleeves, four button closures, and an embellished beaded shawl collar.  The skirt suit is a ruby red color and her feet are encased in matching red high heeled pumps.  Her long gorgeous red hair hangs to just below shoulder length.  A pair of sunglasses cover her eyes.

“Have you heard the story of the Red Legged Devils?”  Jones shakes her head. “And no, Kordy, I’m not talking about your mommy when she wears a tight frock.”

Angelica laughs ever so lightly. “The Fourteenth Regiment of the New York State Militia came from right here in Brooklyn.  The fought in the American Civil War and received the nickname Red Legged Devils during the First Battle of Bull Run when, in reference to the red pants they wore, Confederate General Stonewall Jackson shouted at his men to ‘Hold on! Here come those Red Legged Devils again!’”

“The Fourteenth Regiment was feared and they saw a lot of action.  They fought in both battles of Bull Run. They fought Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville.  And they fought in the climactic battle of Gettysburg.”

“The Shot of Adrenaline Tournament was designed for someone with the spirit of the Red Legged Devils, because with all of the fights you have to go through night in and night out, you are bound to experience some difficult times, eventually you will see your own blood, and perhaps you will shed some of your opponent’s blood, but you have to keep going and endure it all in order to win the whole thing.  And so far I fought to a draw with Jake Starr,  I defeated Colin Cole and Felicity Lansing.  The only loss I’ve suffered is to Tyler Tucker.  I even defeated the SCW legend himself CHBK…”

Jones wipes her forehead and breathes a mock sigh of relief “…and let me tell you, he really did put up quite a fight!”

Angelica laughs nastily as she shakes her head. “The Red Legged Devils loved a good fight and I am wearing red here today in honor of those Red Legged Devils.”

Jones points with a long slender finger at the camera, as if pointing towards Kordy herself.  A sly grin forms across her face.

“I also wore this outfit you, Kordy.  Knowing your affinity for all things red, I thought you might like it.  Which, now that I think about it, makes us similar in a few ways.  Obviously, red is my favorite color…”

She tilts her head forward, letting her ravishing red hair fall forward, and then she throws her head back, letting her hair fall back behind her shoulders again.  The laugh that escapes Angelica’s mouth can best be described as a cackle rather than a traditional laugh.

“…I think it is also safe to say that we both love a good fight.  In fact, I was going to request that Mr. D make this particular Shot of Adrenaline Tournament Match between you and I an honest to goodness Death Match, as in the first person to die loses!  Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

Angelica sighs and shakes her head. “Ah but unfortunately I doubt Mr. D and SCW management would want their precious Shot of Adrenaline Tournament soiled by the barbaric yet beautiful violence we could create together.  So that’s probably out of the question.”

“Oh but there is one other” she holds up one finger “common bond that we share...know what it is, Kordy?  Any guesses, sweetheart?”

Angelica reaches into the pocket of her suit coat.  She brings her hand out and then opens it up to reveal what is inside, what she has produced from the pocket…a knife.  A typical pocket knife.  She waves it flagrantly and indiscriminately at the camera.  Luckily, the blade is currently tucked away inside, safe and sound.

Jones then rolls up one of her sleeves to reveal her bare skin.  The redhead takes the pocket knife and flips it open, revealing the blade.  Angelica then takes the knife and touches it to the skin of her arm and runs the blade, not too hard but not too gently either, across her skin, just enough to draw blood.  Angelica takes the knife and tosses it aside.  She looks directly into the camera and laughs nastily.

“We both love a good bloodbath and we love it even better when the blood for said bloodbath is the blood of our enemies.” Jones licks her lips, almost as if she can taste the blood. “Oh just the thought of the bloody massacre we could create together on Breakdown just brings joy to my heart, Kordy.”

“This will be an enjoyable night for me, Kordy, and I hope for you too.  I hope that this match between us will be as violent as humanly possible.  Make me suffer, Kordy!  Make me feel the pain!  Make me bleed!  That’s what I want, little girl, because I’m going to turn right around and do even worse things to you.  I’m not going to utter some cheesy, crazy line about breaking you, because I know you’re like me, you’re too damn psychotic to be broken.  But I will punish you enough to defeat you on Breakdown.  The fact is, Kordy, as much as I love a good bloodbath, as much as I love violence and bloodshed, there is one thing that is more important to me than satisfying my bloodlust.”

She holds her thumb and first finger up in a position to illustrate closeness. “I am close, this damn close, to advancing to the semi-finals of the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament for a second straight year.  Last year should have been my year!  And don’t you dare give me that garbage about how your fucking foster mommy went undefeated in the tournament!  She only went undefeated in the tournament because she never fought me in the tournament!  Had Elsa The Ice Bitch not been in my way, had I been in the finals instead, things would have turned out differently.”

“That’s why I am in this tournament in the first place.  I am here to bring about justice to the one person who deserves it most, namely ME!  I am here to rectify mistakes made from last year’s tournament.  Hell, I am going to go beyond that!  I am going to make damn sure that last year’s tournament and my performance in it is a distant memory by winning this one and walking away with the Adrenaline Championship!”

“You see, Kordy, as great as it was to hear about the history of The 14^th Regiment’s Red Legged Devils, and as much as you may love your mommy who many think of as a red devil herself, there is only one red devil you need to concern yourself with and that’s me, because I’m not intimidated by your antics.  Hell, I revel in the brutality and violence that your type brings to the table.  Not only that, but I can throw it back in your face tenfold.”

“Let me ask you one question, Kordy.  Pull yourself away from mommy dearest for one moment so that I can ask you this one question.  Do you know who you are dealing with on Breakdown?  We’ve been in the same company for quite some time though our paths have not crossed paths all that often.  I would attribute it to the fact that we have taken vastly different paths in our SCW careers.  You are content with being someone’s sidekick.  You are content with being Red Rayne’s lackey.  Licking Red’s ass and telling her about how she’s so great is your lot in life, isn’t Kordy?”

“While that may be good enough for you, it isn’t good enough for me.” Angelica shakes her head. “I have to be the best.  If I am not the best then I am nothing.  That’s why there is no other option at Breakdown but to defeat you, defeat Evans, advance to the semi-finals, and finally to the finals to win it all.  Victory or bust.”

Jones takes her sunglasses off and tucks them into her pocket. “Last year was a mistake.  Last year was an anomaly.  This year the past gets erased and forgotten underneath the greatness that is Angelica Jones.”