Polly Pingotti vs. Deanna Frost

[SnowQueenSCW]

OOC: Takes place immediately following Selena's first.

DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction and not to be confused as complete or accurate representation of any beliefs, religions, etc. Please refer to research/articles by experts for that.

The Witches of Alden

”Motherly”

The Edison Ballroom
New York, New York
February 24th, 2024
8:53pm

She could barely hear the noise coming from the ballroom as she sat in the stall, letting the sobs wrack her entire frame. It was nowhere near as pleasant as it was before – the sweet, orchestral music being replaced by yelling, hollering, screaming, and other rowdy noises. It was like the ball – a celebration of accomplishment – had been transformed into a damn frat party. And here she was, the woman that was meant to be the ‘Cinderella’… reduced back to rags and dirt… as if the clock had stuck midnight.

With a loud sniffle, Deanna rubbed her nose with the back of her hand as she sat on the closed toilet, her eyes taking in the patches of soil and dirt that covered her once gorgeous gown.

Why? her mind screamed for the umpteenth time, a question she knew she would never have a good answer to, and yet she kept asking it.

Why had Selena come here? Why couldn’t she have just let Deanna have this?

Part of her, what little wasn’t crushed emotionally by the results of the night, tried to rationalize things. Yes, Selena had shown up and ruined the party, but the reason Deanna was covered in dirt and sitting in the bathroom, hiding from everyone out of sheer embarrassment, had been her own doing. It had been the redhead that had charged at Selena in blind anger.

She let out a small gasp of a sob. What had she been thinking? Attacking Selena like that? The woman was a better wrestler than her! She had probably seen it coming before Deanna had even moved! Of course she would have evaded it!

But did she have to trip me? she mentally argued.
She could have punched you. Given you a black eye or a bloody nose or a busted lip.
Or she could have just stopped me! She didn’t have to shove me into the dirt!

Her mental war went back and forth with these shots as she sat there, trying to contemplate her next move in-between her bouts of crying and despising her wife for this.

Or did she despise herself?

There was something in her wife’s actions… the people she had brought to help crash the party. The people that had graduated, just like Deanna, but, like Selena, they had graduated with grades too low to be considered ‘the top of the class’ and, thus, had been excluded from the party.

Like you were back in Kentucky…

She tried to ignore the bitter feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling that marred an accomplishment she was so proud of. She recognized the feeling. She had felt it when her match with Polly had ended in controversy, both Deanna and the official missing the rope break Polly had made during the deciding pin. That feeling that came with the reality that her win over Polly was ‘less’. That it was tainted. That it wasn’t real.

She hated that feeling so much! Polly was a hell of a competitor! More than that, she was a hard worker, working out of the shadow of her past and associations of that past to remake herself and stand on her own, just like Deanna was trying to do, both inside and outside of the ring.

Gods, Deanna wanted to beat her clear. Wanted to be better than her. Not out of bitterness or some kind of ‘vendetta’ but because of how good Polly was! Deanna wanted to be that good. She wanted to be better than ‘that good’ – and take pride in such an accomplishment. And, for a moment, while she had been celebrating in the ring with her title after the match, she had felt that. Only to have it ripped out of her hands moments later when she realized the error in the officiating.

Just like this night – this accomplishment – was being ripped out of her hands.

Was it true? Had Selena been right? Had this whole thing just been an ‘elitist party’ rather than a celebration of the hardest working students? Was Deanna, instead of inspiring people with her struggle to the top of the class (her intention behind her speech), was she actually just further cementing the division between the perceived ‘top’ and those ‘unworthy’?

Her mind flitted back to the stories her wife had mentioned. People with mental-handicaps or real world problems like multiple jobs. Things that had made learning and making high grades next to impossible. Truthfully, the redhead admitted. If she didn’t have the free time she did with SCW’s schedule, allowing her to study and work on homework to and from event locations, as well as, outside of training and appearances, having several hours a day to work quietly wherever she was – if she had a forty-hour work week or more like some of those people Selena mentioned, on top of taking care of the kids… she wasn’t so sure she’d even be in consideration for the ‘top of the class’, let alone at it.

Did that make Selena right? Did that justify her actions?

The redhead shook her head angrily. No! There was a better way to go about it! She didn’t have to barge in and send the group in like a pack of hungry wolves. They could have protested, or come in and made their statements in a civil way.

What had been done was petty! Bitter! And while Selena would deny it, Deanna knew that there was a level of both in the platinum-blonde. She was jealous and bitter that she had been excluded where Deanna had been invited. Her motives for crashing the party may have been sound, but the ends did not justify the means and the redhead was clear-headed enough to know that!

She was both right and wrong… she reasoned. Just like me…

But… was that also, in part, her fault as well? She had kept Selena in the dark about the party, even partially lied in the beginning in an attempt to cover it up. Was that part of what hurt Selena? That her own wife had lied to her and hidden things from her?

Stop justifying her! her mind shot back, her eyes still taking in the ruined dress she wore. She did this to hurt you – knowingly – what kind of loving partner does that?!

That was true as well. Yes, she had lied and hide things from Selena, but what Selena had done? It was tantamount to if Deanna rolled into the ring seconds after Selena had regained the world title from Asher Hayes and nailed her with the Burnout!

Gods, that would be amazing…

Her whole body froze in terror at the thought. She couldn’t have thought that! It must have been a mistake. Desperately, no longer, in that second, caring about how she appeared, Deanna threw herself out of the stall, ripping the door open and tumbling out to brace herself against the cold, black marble of the sink-counter.

She hadn’t meant that! Hadn’t meant to think that thought or even consider it!

Had she?

Lifting her head, the United States champion saw her own reflection in the large mirror. The dirt had clearly gotten to other places than just her dress and hands. She could see splotches of it on her cheeks, making the trail her tears had made all the more prominent. She could see the dark soil in little specks within her red hair. She was even sure she could smell something from the soil. Nutrients? Water? She wasn’t sure but it was there.

Even so, she recognized her own features: her emerald green eyes and red hair. She recognized her own face and body. This was who she was… surely this wasn’t someone that had just considered the idea of hurting her own wife in a wrestling ring.

And yet… she had thought it. She had thought of hitting her wife with The Burnout. Of seeing ‘The Great Selena Frost’, Deanna had put it moments ago in the lobby, crumple down to the floor, paying for everything she had done.

And not just tonight. But for leaving Deanna. For abandoning her. For everything she had said and done since July. Further than that! For getting Deanna mixed up with the Scythes and the Frost/Frostmeres, for getting her mixed up with Killjoy and, thus, getting her locked in prison for nearly two years of her life!

“STOP!” she suddenly screamed, turning her face away from its own reflection. This is wrong! her mind screamed. I don’t want to be this way! she felt new tears, warm droplets of water, forming in her eyes again. I love her… I love her… She kept mentally repeating the line, desperately breathing deeply to try and stop the thoughts rampaging through her head.

How long she stayed there, breathing in and out in deep inhale/exhale, she wasn’t sure. Occasionally, she could hear the sounds of the party, or whatever was left of it, seeming growing more and more rambunctious as the two sides – invitees and crashers – collided. Still, as she felt her heart calm its beating, she found the strength to lift her head and gaze at her reflection in the mirror, able to see herself once more.

Now was not the time to be thinking thoughts she wanted no part of. She would deal with Selena later. Of that, she could, at least, admit. For now…

Quickly, Deanna grabbed the handles of the sink and pulled them up, grateful that they were levers and not sensors. With a steady stream of water available, she then used the soap dispenser to gather globs of the milky-white substance into her hands. That accomplished, she began scrubbing vigorously, watching the cleaner cover her hands. Her face was next and she did not hesitate to cover her face in a similar fashion. She switched between rinsing and reapplying the soap, watching the dirty soap and water mixture come off her slowly and drain into the sink. Paper towels were grabbed until the dispenser on the wall ran out, forcing her to switch over to wads of toilet paper to compensate as she wiped and dried her hands, arms and face.

Finally, she was able to step back and look at herself. Her face was clean, as was her arms. There was nothing she could do about the dress but-

“Deanna?!” she heard the almost frantic call coming from the outside of the bathroom, recognizing it immediately.

“In here.” She called out, surprised at how raspy her voice sounded – from all that crying, she reasoned. A second passed before she heard steps shuffling closer until Alejandra VanHoheheim, her mother-in-law, stood before her.

“Sweetheart, are you-“ she stopped midsentence as she took in Deanna, not really surprising the redhead with such a reaction. Even with the dirt off her face, arms and hair, she must have looked a sight. Her eyes were still bloodshot red from her crying and her dress was still dirtied all over.

“Wha-“ Alejandra tried, earning a sad shrug from Deanna.

“I…” she tried to explain. “Selena and I…”

“What did she do?!” the woman before Deanna was suddenly enraged, as if the very name had sparked an anger – or perhaps reignited it was the better term. “I never hit her as a kid, but boy, do I want to give her a beating right now for what she did!”

“No, mom!” Deanna held her hand out to try and calm the woman. “Please don’t go there. I just had a breakdown thinking the same thing, but me doing the beating. It’s…it’s not just her.” She sighed. “I got angry and tried to tackle her in the lobby. I didn’t look where I was going and when she tripped me, and I fell into a potted plant.”

Alejandra stood there for a moment, the older woman simply trying to process everything her daughter-in-law had just explained. “I’m sorry…” she heard Deanna remark. “I was just so angry…” the redhead felt the light hiccups filling her. “Mad that she would do this…like this…” she felt the slightest of sobs filling her once more, but she forced them down beyond the slight jerking of her body.

She was unprepared, however, to suddenly feel the warm arms wrap around her in an embrace. Immediately, she struggled a bit against it. “No, mom…” she tried. “I’m gonna make your dress dirty too.”

“I don’t care.” Stated the slightly taller Alejandra. “My daughter needs me.”
“Mom…” Deanna half-whined, half melted at such a kind statement. “You’re going to get me crying again.”

“It’s okay…” she whispered. “You can.”

To have that permission from a ‘parent’, even if it was just an in-law, it was enough for the dam to break once more, and Deanna found herself clutching onto Alejandra as the last sobs she had been harbouring came pouring out, the redhead crying into her the woman’s shoulder.

“Why?” she asked in a shaky, muffled voice. “Why did she do this? Does she hate me?”

She felt a hand petting the back of her head as she was held protectively.

“I don’t understand, mom.” She cried. “What did I do wrong? Am…Am…am…” the hiccups became stronger, choking her words out. “Am I not allowed to have something for myself? Am I not- not- not allowed to be proud of what I’ve done? She has to make everything I do seem so ugly?”

Alejandra didn’t answer. She knew better than to. These weren’t questions that were meant to be answered, simply released into the world.

“I…” Deanna heard Alejandra whisper. “I am proud of you.” She choked out a laugh of joy at the woman’s words. “You didn’t have to take this burden on for me or for my mother. But you did. You, not Selena, cleared our name and debt. I, and my mother and siblings. We owe you. Not Selena. You.”

Carefully, the woman extrapolated herself from Deanna in order to hold her out at arm’s length – necessary for the woman to stare into Deanna’s watery eyes.

“And believe me, Deanna. We are going to pay you back – Freya especially will do that.”

“I don’t…” Deanna sniffled. “I don’t need anything. You’re…you’re family.”

“All the more reason that we show gratitude to you.” The older woman countered. “Trust me. I know my mother. She always repays her debt. And she owes you much.”

With another short laugh, Deanna scratched at her nose. “Think she could fix my marriage?” she teased, earning a sad, yet understanding shake of the head from Alejandra. “Worth a shot. I mean, you guys are witches, right?”

“And so are you… now.”

While she, sort of, knew that, to hear it was a different matter entirely for Deanna. It was true. She was recognized as a witch in the eyes of the Aldens – one of them. It was strange. It didn’t have to mean anything, but it could if she wished it to.

Still, Selena’s earlier words – her views and partial ‘motivation’ for crashing the party – stormed to the front of Deanna’s mind.

“Mother…” she tried delicately. “Did we really celebrate the best students in the class… or did we just divide the ‘elite’ from the ‘unworthy’?”

It took a moment for Alejandra to process the question – not that Deanna could blame her. She normally didn’t use that kind of sentence structure or way of thinking-

“That sounds like a ‘Selena-thing’ to ask.” Alejandra quickly concluded, earning a nod from Deanna.

“She…” the younger woman tried. “That was her rationale for this, she said. Though I don’t entirely believe her.”
“I wouldn’t either.”
“But she talked about students that had so much opposition in their way yet still managed to graduate, despite it. Why…” she sniffled again. “Why couldn’t the Aldens celebrate them too? For overcoming so much? Why did it only have to be the ‘highest grades’? Sure, award the highest, I guess, but why not include all the graduates?”

For a moment, the older woman sighed as she considered the question. “I…” she slowly spoke. “I thought the same thing when Sage and Caius graduated. And when I graduated.”

“You did?”

“Yes.” Came another sigh. “One of my best friends, Gregory, couldn’t attend my graduation party because he hadn’t made the cut by one percent. So…I had to go without him.” She looked down at her hands. “He was devastated. And the party… I remember all I wanted was to celebrate with him and my other friends that couldn’t make it.”

“So…” Deanna spoke sadly. “It IS elitist…”

“In some way, yes.” Alejandra admitted. “But it’s so grandfathered in that no one wants to change it. It’s ‘tradition’ now so no one questions it aloud.”

“But that’s so… messed up!” Deanna remarked.
“I know.” VanHohenheim nodded. “But just because it is that way doesn’t mean you can’t take pride in your accomplishment!”

“How can I?” Deanna said in disgust. “How can I proud that I made some ‘elite list’? I’d be advocating a hierarchy!”

“No.” Alejandra clarified. “You can be proud that you worked hard and achieved success, while at the same time learning from this. Just because you are proud of your hard work doesn’t mean you think you and you alone should be acknowledged for it. That’s the difference.”

Another sniffle escaped her, but Deanna was still able to process her mother’s proposal. In a way, it was a lot like being in SCW. She wanted to be seen as the hardest working wrestler – the woman with the grit to overcome anything – but that didn’t mean she needed to choose ‘who got the shot and who didn’t’. She could do all she can to meet every challenge head on, however they wanted that challenge to be.

It was why she had offered a Last Woman Standing match to Polly. Because, after everything said and done, they both, especially Polly, deserved to see who truly had more heart and passion and determination to become the United States Champion. Was being in the Alden’s charter… could it be done in a similar way? Being a member of the ‘elite’ but refusing to support a hierarchy?

Interesting how you two have divulged…

The words she had heard from CHBK echoed in her mind, the redhead having rewatched the scene on YouTube to better understand. She KNEW what Selena, her wife would do. If The Snow Queen had been the top of the class, part of the elite, she would have used it to rub it in Raphael’s and the elders’ faces before rejecting it, making things worse rather than better. She didn’t need the Aldens or to be a witch or anything. Not when she had all she needed in SCW.

But Deanna… Deanna wanted to know more. She wanted to learn… more than that, she found herself wanting to help make things better with the Aldens. If tonight had proven anything beyond her wife’s petty actions, it was that some things within the charter needed to change. Traditions needed to be looked at differently.

But could she do that?

She wasn’t sure, but in that moment, she was willing to consider giving it a real try. Just like she was willing to give Polly the fight her challenger wanted, if only to prove that Deanna, herself, was everything she wished to be in SCW.

“You okay?” she heard Alejandra ask, the older woman studying the redhead carefully.

“No.” Deanna shook her head. “But I will be.” She cast her eyes up to meet Alejandra’s. “Thank you.” She whispered. “For coming in and talking to me.”

“No problem.” She smiled, granting the woman another hug. “Family, remember?”

Deanna nodded at that before the dark-skinned woman separated herself. “Okay.” Came Alejandra’s declaration. “Let’s get you out of here before this party gets any more rowdy.”

Giving a nod, Deanna followed her mother-in-law’s instruction to wait in the bathroom while she fetched something. It was only a moment or two before the woman returned with a long, black coat. Without a word, she wrapped it around Deanna’s shoulders, effectively covering most of the redhead’s body, including her dirt-covered dress.

Together, the pair made their exit from the bathroom, just in time to see Raphael Alden rush out of the ballroom, closing the doors behind him. He spotted them a second later.

“Deanna! Alejandra!” he called out, rushing towards the two. “Are you alright?” he asked to both of them.

“We’re fine.” Alejandra answered. “A little shaken up but we’ll be okay.”
“I am so sorry.” He offered.

“Why…why are you sorry?” Deanna asked in confusion. “It was my wife… I was the one who…”
“Deanna, no.” Alejandra firmly silenced. “It was your wife. That is all. No other excuses for such behaviour.”

“Well…” Raphael tried. “I still think some responsibility should be on us – the elders and I, I mean.”

“That’s… that’s very kind of you to say.” Deanna replied. “Those people – the ones that came with Selena… they really just wanted to celebrate their own graduation too. They may not have been the highest grades but… don’t you think they deserved recognition, too?”

For a moment, Raphael cast a glance back at the closed doors of the ballroom – what was happening on the other side, Deanna had no clue – but he eventually returned his gaze towards the pair of women. “I do.” He finally answered.

“You do?!” Deanna asked in surprise.

“How hard would it have been?” he asked with a shrug. “We accommodate a few more dozen people? The space would have been large enough. Clearly, there was enough food and drink for them. Perhaps if we were more accepting of everyone, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Then…” Deanna bit her lower lip, hope springing inside her chest. “Maybe you can bring it up to the elders about changing it? To allow everyone to come and take pride in their accomplishment?”

For a moment, Raphael seemed to gaze at Deanna, his mind tumbling the question around, before he smiled a small but gentle smile. “I shall.” He vowed. “I think this situation will be a real eye-opener for them.” He gave a nod of his head. “Good idea, Deanna.”

The redhead felt her heart almost burst inside her chest as the remark. Change… real change… she had just done it! Or put it in motion… A bright smile crossing her features. “Thank you.” She replied. “I’m sorry… about the dress.”

“Dress?” he asked, casting his eyes downward, spying the streaks of dirt on it. “Do I even want to know?”
“I…uh…can I tell a joke?” Deanna asked. “In keeping with the humor of earlier?”
“I… I suppose.” Raphael half-smiled, clearly curious.

With a gesture of her thumb, Deanna pointed to the still tilted over pot and plant nearby them. “I got a little potted.”

For a moment, Raphael’s eyes widened before a laugh escaped him. “Next time…” he eyed Deanna. “Just come talk to me… I got a guy that can get better stuff than that!”

“Yeah… nitrates suck.” Deanna fired back. “Wait… you’ve got a guy?-“

“Oh, you are going to be interesting for this charter, Deanna.” Raphael remarked. “I’ll be watching how things go with great interest!” Reaching out, the man patted Deanna on the shoulder before excusing himself to return to the ballroom and restore some semblance of order.

Deanna watched him go, his last words sitting heavily in her mind.

Me too… she found herself answering, more so for herself than for him as Alejandra gently guided her out of the building. Me too…

_______________________________________________________________


So… where do we start?

And when I say that, SCW Universe… Little Gritters… that is not an open invitation to talk about my wife. I do not WANT to talk about Selena Frost or the world championship or whatever the hell she is doing.

When I say ‘where do we start’, I want to make it clear where my mind is. I want to make it clear that my focus is on Retribution. My focus is on the SCW United States Championship. My focus is on the Last Woman Standing Match, and my focus is on Polly Pingotti.

And I know Polly is going to talk about this being ‘the most important match of her career’. She is going to regale you all with the same tale she told the last time we faced. About having more heart than me, about being tougher than me. About wanting it more than me. The same lines she threw at us before our last match on Breakdown.

But I want to make something VERY clear about that night. Something that you, Polly, have failed to mention. Failed to acknowledge.

Because I acknowledged the validity of your claim. I acknowledged that our last match ended in controversy. I acknowledged that a decisive winner was not truly determined. I even acknowledged that, though the result says otherwise, in my heart, I did not truly beat you.

But what you are failing to see, what you are failing to acknowledge, Polly… is that you NEVER beat me either.

You can claim you ‘had me’. You can claim you ‘had the match in the bag’. I’ve heard it before, people claiming such things. Asher Hayes claimed I ‘wasn’t even close in beating him’. But those are just words. In truth, Polly, I now have two wins over you, which means that me beating you, it’s not just something I believe I can do now – it’s something that I KNOW I can do!

But you wanted more than just another shot, didn’t you? You wanted to pour gasoline on the fire. That’s why you mocked me. You dared me to ‘do the right thing’, right? To give you another shot. But see, Polly, what you fail to realize is that ‘another shot’ wasn’t good enough for me.

Because I don’t like leaving controversy to hang over my head. I like definites. I like certainties. The sky is blue. The grass is green. I am the SCW United States Champion because I am the best in the division – certainties. And, yet, match after match, every time I’ve beaten you, you’ve had an excuse at the ready. You were distracted at the chamber, your focus was elsewhere, I got lucky, on and on you go because you can’t admit that my grit trumps whatever angry, screaming ‘I want it more’ mentality that you have.

And truthfully, Polly, another match with you would just yield the same result if I won. Another win for me, another excuse from you. I don’t know… maybe your contact lens fell out. Maybe the sun was in your eyes, despite the roof on top of the arena. Maybe it’s some trick from Marissa or something – you would have some reason other than acknowledging the truth.

Unless… unless I upped the ante a little. Unless I put us in a situation that was either put up or shut up! And Polly, I got that situation. That situation is ‘Last Woman Standing’.

Now… for me, personally? I have never been in such a match. Retribution this weekend will mark my first time competing in such a match. A match that is determined not by pinfall, not by submission, but by knockout. By being unable to answer a ten count. A match that is the truest test of grit and passion and toughness, of everything!

A match where, Polly, everything you have stated – that you ‘had’ me? That I was ‘reeling’ and ‘desperate’? It gets put to the test and we see just how close you can get to beating me. Just how close you can get to outlasting me.

I’m excited about that, Polly. I am excited to see that because, like I said, you say you can – I KNOW I can. I’ve proven it time and time again. In the chamber, in tag matches, in the ring, I have never failed to take all you can give and return it with interest.

But you… you want to play this card that I ‘stole the match’ from you. That I ‘stole your night’ and ‘your victory’ from you simply because of an official’s mistake. Simply because the official made a human error.

I’ll admit that is what happened. That a mistake was made. But to make the leap in logic that you would have beat me had it not happened, Polly? Let me ask you.

How?

How would you have beaten me had it not happened? Were you gonna kick out and hit me with the Polly Pop or The Head Turner? Maybe… but then why couldn’t you do that in our past tag matches? Why couldn’t you do that in the chamber last year? And what about me hitting you with The Burnout? Or the Checkmate? Or locking you into the Consortium? We can trade what-ifs back and forth until we are both blue in the face, Polly, but where did I ‘steal’ something from you with such hyperbole?

You want to claim I stole something from you, Polly? What did I steal? A ‘potential’ career highlight? A ‘maybe’ winner’s purse? A ‘possible’ champion’s bonus?

I stole NOTHING from you, Polly. I did what I said I was going to do and defend the championship that I love and that I love defining in SCW with all my heart! I did EXACTLY what I promised I would do. It isn’t like I discredited your very credentials or crossed a personal line by downplaying accomplishments or disrespected your passion and talents, Polly. I acknowledged your claim and I stated in front of the world that you deserved another shot! But you kept digging. You kept going at me. You crossed that personal line with your false promises of ‘having me’ or ‘having me beat’. Of proclaiming that my ‘grit’ wasn’t what got me here, wasn’t what beat you, but luck and my last name!

If anything, Polly, what you did was show just how narrow-minded and arrogant you truly are. All you did was show that you have trapped yourself in this mentality that you, and only you, can be the United States Champion and that any other outcome, any other result that doesn’t favor that goal – that doesn’t favor you as the winner – well it’s either not possible or it’s the result of something other than that person being better than you.

My views are a little different, you see. Because I, also, recently lost a title match. I lost the world title match to Asher Hayes to cap off 2023. I wrestled until my knee gave out in a collision, but like you, Polly, I didn’t accomplish what I set out to do that night. I didn’t break the glass ceiling. I didn’t achieve what I promised. I failed. And there was no one to blame but myself.

And blame myself I did. My ‘Icarus moment’ if you’ll recall. Me flying too close to the sun too soon. The reality check that as good as I have been, there was room to improve, room to be better, room to prove more and more that I am the hardest working person in SCW today!

And if we go further back? My life has been filled with failings. Shortcomings. As a tag-team champion. As a Television Champion. As a representative of my wife. The night I got beat by the biggest jobber in SCW history? The night I got beat by five moves. The night where I was little more than a hostage and tied to a fence. The night I was thrown up against a barricade to distract Selena. The night I was sent to prison on a trumped up charge. The night that I fell out of an arena exit and lost my half of the tag-team titles.

A career full of shortcomings and failures, perhaps as many as accolades, but the difference between you and me is that you made excuses for every single one of yours, Polly.

Me? What did I do? I endured!

I accepted those losses and I used them to better myself! I took the pain and I learned from them because you can learn so much from loss! How to adapt! How to evolve! How to live! How to recover! How to reinvent yourself!

Those were some of the greatest lessons in my career, Polly. Of my life. Because I am NEVER EVER going to be ‘The Snow Queen’. I am never going to be ‘The Face of SCW’. I am never going to be “The Blue-Eyed Devil’. And I don’t want to be. Why be what someone else has been… when I can take my own experiences, my own lessons, and be something totally new? Totally my own? Totally me?

And if you think that quest, Polly, that quest for identity, that quest for vindication, for evolution – if you think, Polly Pignotti, that my journey to a place where I belong here in SCW – a place that is solely mine -- can be so easily outweighed by your ‘slight’ of losing two matches against me… if you think my months scratching and clawing to not only get here but stay here as the United States Champion can be outweighed by what you ‘know’?

Then Polly, you are in for a ruder awakening than what you got in that chamber and on Breakdown. Because enduring is what I have done and enduring is what I will do this weekend when you and I face! I will endure what you ‘know’! I will endure your ‘excuses’! I will endure EVERYTHING you can throw at me and I will give you the chance to put me down for good!

But understand that I will be looking to do the same thing to you! Because what I want isn’t just to retain my championship. What I want isn’t just a third win in my column, Polly. No! What I want is absolute clarity! What I want is undeniable proof! And that will only happen when I take all that you have, all that you give me, and I surpass it. I outlast it! I keep getting back up! Until you can’t. Until you won’t…

And I leave you lying there in the ring, looking up at the lights, with a million different excuses running through your head… but not one able to come out of your mouth!

Come hell or high water, Polly, we will finally have an answer to every question and statement we have made. One of us will have our retribution. One of us will be the last woman standing. And one of us will be the, unquestionable, undisputed, United States Champion…

The other… will be burned out.

Checkmate, bitches.