+- Supreme Championship Wrestling (https://www.supremecw.com/forums)
+-- Forum: SCW Central (https://www.supremecw.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=10)
+--- Forum: SCW Breakdown (https://www.supremecw.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=11)
+--- Thread: Kimberly Williams vs. Kemal Yilmaz* (/showthread.php?tid=4719)
Kimberly Williams vs. Kemal Yilmaz* - Kemal Yilmaz - 01-19-2026
Shot of Adrenaline Tournament
2 RP Limit for singles
3500 Word Per RP
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Thursday, January 22, 2026 (NOTE THE DATE – EXTRA DAY)
*Kimberly Williams can post the same roleplay for both matches if she wants, of course, up to her 2 RP Limit.
RE: Kimberly Williams vs. Kemal Yilmaz* - The Matt - 01-20-2026
1 of 2
=====
==========
January 17th 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
==========
Fatal Fortunes was mostly uneventful for Kimberly Williams. She was in a triple threat tag. Her team lost. But for The Woman Scorned, the tag team division isn’t her priority. Her priority is finishing The Shot of Adrenaline Tournament on a strong note and then, hopefully, a return to the Underground Division where she will have an opportunity to reclaim the championship. The second night of Fatal Fortunes finally revealed at least a taste of what was on the mysterious tape that Kim’s mother Angelica Jones and Ravyn had been harping on about for weeks. Apparently SCW representative Mr. Delatosso has little to no faith in Kimberly Williams. He does not want Kim representing the company as SCW World Champion. For now that’s fine, because she wants to be Underground Champion a lot more than she wants to be World Champion of SCW. Still, the remarks made about Kim were offensive and it has lit a fire under The Woman Scorned.
Breakdown on January 22nd is coming from Newark, New Jersey and to finish off the round robin rounds, Kim will have to compete twice in one night. Is it coincidence that she is put in this situation after the tape was leaked? Maybe, maybe not. But Kimberly is determined now more than ever to win both matches and punch her ticket to the semi-finals of Shot of Adrenaline. If this really is the final time this tournament is held, The Queen of the Death Match intends to be its final winner and remind the entire company, including Mr. Delatosso, what she is truly capable of.
This is all taking place while Williams is also dealing with the return of a threat she had hoped was permanently gone from her past; the looming shadow of the Floreschu family, the family who had fostered her after birth. Kimberly was raised by Emma Floreschu, the woman who made Kim into the psychopath she is today. She had hoped Emma and the rest of her family was gone after she and her sister Sorinah were murdered by Kim’s own hands. Yet now their sinister brother Lucian has arrived, promising to finish what they started, whatever that means. Thus far he has used damaging evidence he claims he has against Kim to blackmail her into signing over her real estate empire over to the Floreschu family assets and now he is forcing her to move into Emma’s old estate, a grandiose luxurious mansion where someone like Kim feels completely out of place. It feels like Lucian is trying to change her into someone else entirely, someone she doesn’t recognize.
Kimberly Williams is fighting a battle for her own deranged soul.
The grand living room had not changed, yet it felt entirely different to Kimberly Williams now that she stood within it again. The towering ceilings still loomed overhead, painted with elaborate designs meant to impress and dominate in equal measure. Crystal light spilled from the chandelier, scattering across marble floors that reflected everything without mercy. The furniture remained arranged with deliberate precision, each velvet chair and polished table positioned as if the room itself were a stage awaiting a performance. The fire burned low but steady in the massive stone hearth, casting a soft amber glow that clung to the walls and stretched shadows into elegant, watchful shapes. This was a room built to make people feel small unless they belonged to it and tonight, The Woman Scorned was dressed as though she did.
Her reflection appeared everywhere, multiplied in the tall mirrors and glossy surfaces, a version of herself she scarcely recognized. She wore an evening gown of deep sapphire silk that clung to her frame with an intimacy she found unsettling. The fabric caught the light with every shift of her weight, shimmering faintly like water disturbed by movement. The neckline dipped just enough to suggest confidence, while the fitted bodice demanded poise she did not naturally possess. The skirt flowed smoothly to the floor, whispering against marble with each reluctant step. Jewelry adorned her in careful excess. A diamond necklace rested against her collarbone, cool and heavy, its presence impossible to ignore. Matching earrings framed her face, drawing attention to features that usually went unpolished and unrestrained. Her hands felt alien beneath delicate gloves, fingers stiff and uncertain, unused to adornment that served no purpose other than display. Her red hair, once wild and untamed, had been coaxed into controlled elegance. Soft waves cascaded over her shoulders, styled to look effortless while requiring absolute submission to order. She looked like a woman who belonged in this mansion, who might glide through its halls without question. And she hated every second of it.
Kimberly stood rigidly near the center of the room, her posture betraying her discomfort no matter how flawless the illusion. She tugged subtly at the gown when she thought no one was watching, her movements small but persistent, like an animal testing the limits of a trap. Her eyes darted with restless energy, scanning the room not with admiration but with calculation, measuring exits and distances even as she stood dressed in wealth she did not claim as her own.
Lucian Floreschu, the man who considers himself her “uncle”, watched her. He remained composed as ever, the embodiment of calm authority, perfectly at ease in the world he had shaped around them. His suit this evening was charcoal black, tailored with surgical precision, the fabric smooth and matte beneath the warm firelight. A crisp white shirt lay beneath, immaculate and unwrinkled, fastened with dark cufflinks that caught the light only when he moved. His shoes gleamed softly against the floor, silent, controlled, deliberate. His dark hair was styled neatly, framing a face that carried an unreadable expression of satisfaction and intent. He did not need to touch her to assert influence. The way he stood, the way he occupied space, made it clear that Kimberly’s transformation was no accident. It was intentional, orchestrated, and deeply personal. He looked like a man who knew exactly how the world saw him and exactly how he wanted it to see her. The fire crackled softly, the only sound daring to disturb the stillness. Outside, the city waited, distant and irrelevant, while inside the living room the air felt thick with expectation. This was not merely an evening of appearances. It was a test. A rehearsal. A declaration of control disguised as elegance. And Kimberly Williams stood at the center of it all, dressed like a queen in a kingdom that was never meant to be hers, painfully aware that the role she had been forced into would demand far more than just looking the part.
“Y’know, for a Saturday morning cartoon super villain reject, you really do have bad revenge plots.” Kimberly says with venom dripping from her voice. “I mean, I get it, I killed your sisters. You’re pissed and want me to pay the consequences. I’d be pissed too if someone hurt my sisters. But this…” Kim motions first to her outfit and then to the surroundings “...dressing me up like a damn clown and then making me live in this dump…”
“What you call ‘being dressed up like a clown’ others consider elegance personified.” Lucian remarks cooly. “And most would kill to live in an estate as luxurious as this.”
“I would kill to get out of having to live here.” Kimberly says in a threatening tone. Lucian chuckles softly under his breath.
“Ah but murder is what got you into this predicament in the first place? You are good at covering your tracks, Kimberly, very good. But no one is perfect and even the very best are careless enough to leave at least some evidence behind. Evidence that someone like me can use against you.”
“So why don’t you?” Kim snarls. “At this rate I think I’d rather be locked up than to live out this god damn fantasy.”
“You don’t mean that.” Lucian shakes his head. “It’s public knowledge that you are mentally unstable. Well, maybe, maybe not. The people, your fans, enjoy it and are entertained by it and Supreme Championship Wrestling are willing to accept that your insanity is just an act. But you know deep down inside that if these murders were to become public knowledge, you might not get prison time. You might be returned to the mental institution. And that’s what really scares you, isn’t it? You do not want to return to the padded room.”
“Your games won’t work.” Kim insists with a shake of her head. “My friends and my family know me and they know that this isn’t my style. Dressing like this and living in a place like this isn’t who I am they will quickly recognize that something is wrong.”
“Then you had better become a really good actress and convince them that you have had a change of heart.” He says with a cold grin on his face. “Remember, I own you.”
“Why are you doing this?” Kimberly’s voice is steady, cold, and angry. Her eyes are intense. This is not the normal, jovial Kim Williams. This is someone else entirely. Lucian chuckles as he watches her.
“Ah and there she is! The REAL Kimberly Williams! Not that fraud. Not the happy go lucky jokester. Not the fan favorite beloved by one and all. This is who I want.”
“No, you really don’t.” Kim shakes her head. “You have no idea what you are asking for.”
“I know my sister, your foster mother Emma, and I know she would have wanted this darker, evil, malevolent Kimberly and not the clown. That’s who she wanted you to be. I intend to bring that out in you. I intend to bring out the BEST in you. I will finish what my sister started. So make no mistake about it, Kimberly, I am HELPING YOU, not hurting you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Believe what you want. Perhaps a gift will change your mind?”
Lucian snaps his finger. Kimberly braces herself for what may or may not happen next. A few moments later another man emerges from the shadows; a butler. Elderly but dressed to the nines in a black and white suit. He approaches Kimberly without any fear or hesitation. He bows slightly in reverence.
“Ms. Floreschu, my name is Bruce and I…” Without warning Kimberly snaps. The Woman Scorned reaches out with both hands and grabs him around his neck and starts squeezing.
“MY NAME IS WILLIAMS!” She shouts. “I DO NOT ANSWER TO THAT CURSED NAME!”
Kimberly’s face is white hot with rage. She could kill him at any moment. But then laughter, laughter from Lucian Floreschu, fills the air and this causes Kimberly to snap out of it. She releases her grip on Bruce and she backs off. She looks at her hands, the ones that had been squeezing the life out of Bruce, and she is scared. Scared of what she nearly did.
“He is yours.” Lucian says after he finally stops laughing. “Your property. He will do anything you ask. Kill him if you want. My sister Emma murdered her fair share of servants in a blind rage from time to time.” He winks at Kim. “You get that rage from her. You were not that much different, even though you want to believe you are. The only difference is that even in her psychosis, she remained dignified and refined. A proper lady.”
“So is that it?” Kimberly asks. “Is that what you’re trying to do? You want to change me, make me into a carbon copy of Emma and Sorinah?”
“My sister Emma always viewed you as her heir.” Lucian remarks. “Everything she did was to prepare you for that day when you would take over for her, when you would step into her shoes and inherit all of this, inherit her operations. My sister’s failure to properly mold you was due to one minor issue.” He points a finger at Kim. “Emma’s obsessive anger with your mother distracted her. Instead of molding you into a refined, dignified, sociopath, she molded you into a rabid animal and used you against your own family. She was going to finish the job with you later, after you destroyed your own family, but when you got caught and institutionalized she realized her mistake but it was already too late.”
“That’s right, it IS too late…” Kim snaps at him defiantly “...and you cannot change me now!”
“On the contrary, I intend to finish what my sister started. And I will succeed where my sister failed because, unlike my sister, I do not care about your family. Although…” his voice trails off. Kim can tell that he has a plan in mind, a devious one at that, and she doesn’t like the look on his face.
“What?”
“...you know, I actually would like to meet your family.”
“No!” Kim shakes her head. “Absolutely not.”
“Oh yes. It would be the perfect test to see if you can play the role of heiress to the Floreschu empire, to see if you can play the part Emma had wanted you to play for so long. Invite your family over. We will host a dinner party for them; tell them you want to show off your brand new home.”
“You want me to show off this place, a place that I detest, and act like some wealthy snob, around my family?” Kimberly shakes her head. “You’re nuts, you know that? You’re insane! Do you know or even care that I have to wrestle not just once but TWICE in one night next week in New Jersey for Breakdown?”
“Yes, your final two round robin matches in the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament, a tournament you do not particularly want to be in anyway.” Lucian shrugs his shoulders. “So what does it matter to you if you are distracted and are unable to properly fail? So what if Polly and Kemal manage to beat you? You never wanted to be part of this tournament anyway.”
“I care because I am a professional, damn it!” Kim exclaims. “I DO hate this stupid tournament but I am not going to just intentionally throw a match! I am not going to put on a half assed performance! I am going to try and win!”
“Keep that attitude and perhaps someone like Mr. Delatosso will think more highly of you and give you more opportunities. Keep that attitude and you won’t have to worry about wrestling twice on Breakdown, you will win.”
“Why do you care if I win?” Kim asks angrily.
“Because despite what you may think, I do want to see you succeed.”
“No, you want to see your own twisted version of me succeed.” Kim snarls. “Trust me, you do not want to see that version of me come out.”
“Yes, I do.” He nods his head. “I want to see you reach your fullest potential, Kimberly. If that means blackmailing you into it, then so be it. But you will reach your full potential.”
RE: Kimberly Williams vs. Kemal Yilmaz* - The Matt - 01-21-2026
2 of 2
=====
==========
January 18th, 2026
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
==========
Lucian Floreschu, Kimberly Williams’s self-declared “uncle”, had ordered her to plan for a fancy dinner party involving her close family so he could get to know them. The time for that fancy dinner has arrived. The grand dining room of the mansion carried the same overwhelming sense of deliberate excess as the rest of the estate. A long dining table of polished dark wood stretched across the center of the room, its surface gleaming beneath the soft glow of an ornate chandelier suspended high above. Tall windows framed by heavy drapery hinted at the night beyond, though the outside world felt distant, almost unreal, compared to the richness contained within these walls. The table had been set with exacting precision. Fine china edged in gold rested atop crisp linen placemats, accompanied by an array of polished silverware arranged in perfect symmetry. Crystal glasses stood waiting, empty and expectant, their delicate rims catching the light with every subtle shift of the room’s glow.
Kimberly Williams stood near one end of the table, her presence both striking and discordant. She was dressed in an elegant evening gown chosen to suit the grandeur of the room, though it sat on her like borrowed skin. The dress was a deep emerald green, fitted closely through the torso before falling in graceful lines to the floor. Its fabric shimmered subtly beneath the chandelier, every movement drawing attention in a way that made her acutely self conscious. Her red hair had been styled neatly once again, arranged to soften its usual wildness, and tasteful jewelry adorned her neck and wrists, each piece carefully selected to complete the image she was expected to present. Despite the flawless appearance, Kimberly’s discomfort was unmistakable. Her shoulders carried tension, her stance just slightly off, as though she were bracing herself for something unseen. She adjusted the fabric of her dress more often than necessary, her gaze drifting restlessly around the room, lingering on doorways and corners rather than the table itself. The luxury pressed in on her, heavy and unyielding, and no amount of silk or sparkle could convince her she belonged within it. Beside her stood Tommy Wasley, a stark contrast to the refined surroundings. Burly and broad shouldered, he filled his tailored suit with a physical presence that felt grounded and unmistakably real. His thick beard had been carefully trimmed for the evening, though it still lent him a rugged edge that resisted full domestication. The dark fabric of his suit strained slightly across his frame, hinting at a man more accustomed to workwear than formal attire, yet he wore it with a quiet determination that suggested he was there for Kimberly more than the setting itself. He seemed acutely aware of Kimberly’s unease, his posture subtly angled toward her as if offering silent reassurance. While the room demanded polish and restraint, his presence anchored her.
Across the table stood Marie Jones, Kimberly’s identical twin in face but not in spirit. Where Kimberly appeared ill at ease, Marie moved through the room with natural confidence, as though she had been born into such spaces. She wore a gown of soft champagne silk that complemented her features perfectly, the fabric flowing effortlessly with each graceful step. Her hair was styled immaculately, falling in smooth waves that framed her face with practiced elegance. Subtle makeup highlighted her eyes and lips, enhancing rather than disguising her natural femininity. Marie seemed entirely at home amid the opulence, her posture relaxed, her expression serene. She admired the table setting with genuine appreciation, her fingers brushing lightly against the back of a chair as if savoring its craftsmanship. Luxury did not weigh on her as it did on Kimberly. It lifted her, settled around her like a familiar embrace, and she wore it with ease and quiet delight. Nearby stood Angelica Jones, the matriarch of the Jones family, her presence commanding without effort. She wore a classic evening dress of deep burgundy, tailored to perfection and timeless in its elegance. The fabric draped gracefully over her figure, every line suggesting refinement shaped by years of experience rather than fleeting trends. Pearls adorned her neck and ears, their soft luster echoing the understated sophistication she embodied so naturally. Angelica carried herself with an air of composed authority, her movements measured and deliberate. She surveyed the dining room with calm approval, as though evaluating not only the setting but the moment itself. Her expression was serene, her posture flawless, and she looked entirely in her element, a woman who understood the unspoken rules of such environments and navigated them with practiced grace.
“Kimmy, this place is incredible…” Marie says, her voice trailing off as she continues to scan the area. Their mother, Angelica, nods her head in agreement.
“Marie is right. This place is amazing. Quite frankly, I’m shocked you decided to move in here.”
“Well, it was Kimmy’s idea, not mine.” Tommy chimes in with a chuckle. “But I’m not gonna complain.”
Kimberly has done her best to put on a smile and put on a good act. That was Lucian’s order. Be a good actress and convince her family that she has had a change of heart, that she wants to live here and that she wants this lifestyle. In actuality, Lucian is playing the long game. He is trying to mold Kim, to turn her into this type of person. All of this through blackmail.
“If even you two prudes,” motioning to Marie and Angelica “are in awe at this place then yeah, I guess it is kinda neat.” Kim remarks with a bit of sarcasm, unintentional, dripping from her voice.
“So how did you get this again?” Angelica asks curiously. “This doesn’t seem like the kind of place you would just buy.”
“Uh, it was Emma’s.”
“Emma’s?” Angelica arches her brow. That is a name she hasn’t heard in a long time and it brings back bad memories.
“Eh, it doesn’t make sense but supposedly she left it to me in her will.” Kim remarks, quickly trying to scramble for a believable excuse. “She felt bad about the terrible things she put our family through and leaving me her entire estate is supposed to make up for it.”
“She took you and Marie away from me at birth.” Angelica says coldly. “So yeah, she did owe me. A lot.”
“She and I didn’t even know this place existed until just a month ago, I suppose.” Tommy shrugs. “Some guy stopped by and told her about it. What was his name again?”
“Lucian.” Kimberly says grimly. “He’s Emma’s brother. He’s handling the estate and he told me and Tommy about this place.”
“I had no idea Emma even had a brother.”
“Neither did I.” Kim remarks coldly, being very careful about what she says to her family about Lucian.
The mere mentioning of his name is almost like a cue for the arrival of Lucian Floreschu. The atmosphere in the dining room shifted almost imperceptibly as Lucian entered, though nothing tangible had changed. The chandelier still cast its warm, steady light. The table settings remained untouched and immaculate. Yet the room seemed to acknowledge his presence in a way it had not for the others, as if the space itself recognized an unseen authority and subtly realigned around it. Lucian moved with unhurried confidence, his footsteps quiet against the marble floor, measured and intentional. He was dressed in a tailored black dinner suit that fit him flawlessly, the fabric absorbing the light rather than reflecting it. Beneath the jacket, a crisp white shirt lay smooth and pristine, fastened neatly at the collar. A dark silk tie completed the look, understated but unmistakably expensive. Nothing about his attire sought attention, yet it commanded it all the same, an elegance born not of display but of certainty.
“Ah, my lovely niece Kimberly!” He exclaims, approaching Kim and embracing her in a hug. Kim is taken aback but knows instantly that any hesitation would blow the cover and potentially prove damaging to her, so she hugs him back. Angelica and Marie look on at them with shocked looks on their faces.
“Niece?” Angelica says.
“Yes, after all my sister, for all of her faults and grievous crimes, did raise her.” Lucian turns to face Angelica. “The famous Angelica Jones. I have heard many things about you, not just from your wrestling career, a legacy that Kimberly proudly carries on, but also, unfortunately, from my sister Emma’s deranged obsessions.”
“Deranged is one way of putting it.” Angelica remarks.
“I know of the crimes Emma committed against you. She stole your children and, in Kim’s case, tried to mold her into a weapon against you. They were so horrific that no simple apology can make up for it and I would not expect you to forgive the Floreschu family. However, I can do some small things to make up for it. This is why, when settling my sister’s estate, I wanted to make certain Kimberly got this grand mansion.” He casts a knowing look at Kim. “Just one of many gifts I plan to give to Kimberly.”
“Gee, thanks.” Kimberly snorts. Marie makes her way over to Kimberly. She leans in to her ear.
“What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
“Something’s bothering you. I can tell.” Marie whispers. “You can’t hide from an identical twin.”
“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Kim shrugs her shoulders. “I mean, yeah, Emma’s family is back in our life. That was a pretty nasty spot of our past that we once again have to deal with, so maybe that is bugging me a wee little bit, but hey, it’s no big deal, right? I even get this nice big house out of the deal!”
Marie looks at Kim skeptically. The Woman Scorned can tell that her identical doesn’t buy her story. Not one bit. Kim is usually a great actress and very convincing but the pressure and stress Lucian is placing on her is wreaking havoc. She is not on her A-Game. Marie reaches out and takes Kim’s hand, holding them tightly.
“You know, if something is wrong, if you are in trouble, you can always come to me, right? Me or mom. Either of us can help.”
“I know.” Kim nods her head. “But honestly, I’m fine. Everything is good.”
Marie nods her head in agreement. Kim can tell that Marie is still doubtful of her story but at least she is leaving her alone, for now. Kimberly realizes, unfortunately, that this is one fight she has to battle on her own. Yet she has no idea how she will escape Lucian’s grasp without being changed forever.
==========
January 21st, 2026
Newark, New Jersey
On Camera
==========
Night settles over downtown Newark with a low winter glow, the kind that turns glass and steel into mirrors of moving light. The Prudential Center looms behind her, its broad facade washed in red and white illumination that reflects off the pavement still slick from earlier traffic. Car headlights sweep past in steady waves, distant sirens blur into the background, and the air carries that familiar mix of cold concrete and city energy. It feels like a place where big moments are supposed to happen, where noise and anticipation linger even when the doors are closed. Kimberly Williams stands alone in front of it all, centered and unflinching, staring straight into the camera as if daring it to blink first. The Woman Scorned has long red hair that falls past her shoulders in loose, slightly unruly strands, catching the light when the wind moves through it. She wears a dark leather jacket over a fitted t-shirt, worn jeans that show signs of real use, and sturdy boots planted firmly on the ground. Her hands hang relaxed at her sides, her posture calm but loaded with intent.
“You know what is dangerous? More dangerous than me, obviously.” Kimberly pauses, as if expecting an answer from the viewing audience. She smirks knowingly. “Motivation. Motivation gets you out of bed. Motivation gets you through training. Motivation tells you that tonight is your night. Motivation also makes you predictable. Motivation is dangerous. Not for me. For you. It is VERY dangerous for Polly and for Kemal, especially right here and right now as we go full speed ahead into the finish of the round robin stage of the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament.” She snickers nastily.
“Did I ‘shit on’ or ‘piss on’ this tournament? As Mr. Mafia Name Guy says? Yeah, I did. Do I take back my words? I may regret some of the way I phrased it but I never regret anything I say or anything I do. I didn’t care about this tournament. Not at first. Shot of Adrenaline? Cute name. Fun chaos. Some shiny thing someone else could put on a shelf. I could win back the Adrenaline Title. Cool but I’ve got bigger prizes to chase, namely the Underground Title.” She pauses.
“Or at least… I did.” Her eyes narrow just slightly. “Then Mr. Delatosso opened his mouth. SCW representative. Suit. Clipboard. Opinions. Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one, and Mr. Delwhatshisname is one. You think I am a joke? You doubt that I am a talent? Listen you half-wit, I am a former two time World Champion. Maybe not here in Supremely Catty Wrestling, but I have held the grand prize across the globe in other major promotions all over the globe. I am a winner. Yes, I am a proud member of the famous Jones Wrestling Family. I am one of the best pure wrestlers in this world when I am properly motivated.”
“There it is again, that word…motivated.”
“Do you know what your mistake was DelMafiaGuy? I’ll tell ya! You confused ‘doesn’t care’ with ‘can’t do it.’ And now? Now I care. And that’s where it gets dangerous. Because I don’t want the Shot of Adrenaline. I don’t need it. I just want you and everyone else to be wrong. I want your doubt choking in your throat while I stand at the top of the table smiling like a lunatic.” She laughs softly. “Spite is a beautiful fuel. Burns hot. Burns fast. Leaves nothing behind but ash and regret. I want to win Shot of Adrenaline out of spite for you and for anyone else back there who dared to doubt The Queen of the Death Match.”
“And you’re scared. You’re scared because you know I heard every little word that came from your slimy mouth and you know that the worst of me is coming out to play. Not the happy Kimmy who loves to play with Wasley the penguin…though Wasley will be there by my side…oh no, you get Kimberly the sick sadistic bitch who shortened careers, Kimberly who drove an explosive into James Evans’s eyeball trying to blind his ass. You get the Kimberly Williams who has no conscience or remorse, who does not care for the well being of her fellow man and woman. You know that is who you brought out and now to stack the deck I am being forced to compete twice in one night?” She holds up her hand and waves her hand.
“Bring it on.”
“Polly Pingotti, you and I haven’t always seen eye to eye, but I think we can agree on one thing at the very least; Delwhatshisname is an ass. He spoke down about me AND you. And we are both decorated former champions here in SCW who deserve respect. We are both fully capable of running the rest of this Shot of Adrenaline Tournament gauntlet and winning it all. So lets tear down the house, lets put on a clinic, and prove idiots like him wrong. Lets prove to the world that we do belong.” She smirks knowingly. “But make no mistake about it, Polly, I will do everything that my chaotic mind can come up with to go through you, to defeat you, and add more points to my total. Because I am driven by the almighty spirit of SPITE! And I will NOT STOP until I am victorious!” She points a finger at the camera.
“You are good, Polly. Very good. Accept these words with pride because very few people get to hear me speak straight from the heart as the REAL Kimberly Williams not the fun loving penguin hugging psychopath; but straight from my heart I respect the hell out of you. You, like me, have had to struggle within a company who has doubted you. And in many ways you, like me, have been motivated by spite. You want to win to prove them wrong and make them eat their words. Unfortunately only one of us can get what we want out of this. Only one of us can continue their journey and I do not plan to let anyone stop me, not even someone as determined and motivated and accomplished as you. Yes, I see your game Polly, and I respect it, but even your very best will not stop me.”
“Then Kemal! Beautiful, sweet, Turkish Kemal. My Turkish Turniquette! My Turkish Twilight! My Turkish Tea of Testosterone! I’m gonna have to stop there because I think of any further alliterations that work. What I can say is that you and your European Fiery Friends are such lovely people! I thoroughly enjoyed the times me and Oktoberfest got to maim one another! Now I get to renew my acquaintance with Europe on Breakdown. It’s a real shame that you are just being used as a tool, a mere resource on SCW’s behalf to try and impede my progress in Shot of Adrenaline. Perhaps another day we can have this fight properly?” She shakes her head.
“Just not this night. Breakdown I am not fighting out of respect, I am not fighting for a title, I am not fighting to maim or cripple. I am not here to create chaos, at least not yet. I am motivated purely by spite. I was told that I cannot do this and now I am going to prove everyone wrong. I am going to run this gauntlet. Just like I told Polly…nothing personal, but I am going to do whatever comes into my twisted mind in order to defeat you and advance to the semi-finals of Shot of Adrenaline.”
Kim throws her head back and cackles nastily.
“Motivation is a very dangerous thing, especially wielded by a psychopath who holds a grudge! I make this promise, no this VOW, to The Not So Nice Mr. D, to Polly, and to Kemal…I will destroy anyone who gets between ME and the semi-finals of the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament! I will claim that brass ring out of spite, to shove it in the face of my critics! My mother made it to the semi-finals of Shot of Adrenaline twice in her illustrious career. Unfortunately she never made it any further than that. Perhaps it is time that I proved that what mommy can do, daughter can do better? I will not just match my mother’s accomplishment, I will improve upon it. I will do what even she couldn’t and win the whole thing.”
“Motivated by spite.”
“It starts on Breakdown right here in New Jersey when Kemal and I maim each other, when Polly and I tear down the house. It starts when I pick up two wins in the same damn night, beating the odds that are oh so obviously stacked against me. And there is nothing anyone can do about it.”
The camera fades to black.
RE: Kimberly Williams vs. Kemal Yilmaz* - Kemal Yilmaz - 01-23-2026
Kemal's first experience as a reserves soccer player game and showing respect for Kim, but wanting the match to be brutal and chaos.