05-08-2025, 04:54 AM
2 of 2
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May 7th, 2025
London, England
On Camera
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The camera begins to roll and we open on a chilly morning in London, England. The streets of London stretched out in a mosaic of old-world charm and modern bustle, a city in perpetual conversation with itself. Cobblestones peeked through patches of worn asphalt in certain pockets, especially near the older boroughs where history clung to the architecture like ivy. The sidewalks, uneven in places, bore the scuff marks of countless commuters, tourists, and residents alike. Along the edges, cast-iron lampposts stood sentinel, their dark green paint chipped in places, revealing the iron beneath, an aged elegance that blended seamlessly with the soft, amber glow of their lanterns, still flickering against the lingering morning haze. Narrow alleys snaked off the main roads. Some were lined with independent bookshops and tucked-away cafés, their awnings faded by years of rain and sun, their windows steamed from the warmth inside. Others led to hidden courtyards or opened into unexpected pockets of greenery; urban gardens with wrought iron gates and benches dusted with early dew. Double-decker buses rumbled by with their distinct crimson flare, brakes sighing as they paused to swallow up clusters of passengers wrapped in coats and scarves. Cyclists zipped between cars, weaving through the dense traffic with the reflexes of seasoned navigators, their neon vests flashing like flags against the slate-grey backdrop of the city. Storefronts offered a parade of life. Overhead, the sky was a soft, uncertain gray, not yet rain, but not promising sun either; a typical London indecision.
Just then we see Glory Braddock moving into the scene from the right. Her golden blonde hair, left to hang straight and cascading past the shoulders, caught the pale sunlight in strands of soft gold, glinting with each step. She was dressed simply, but deliberately: a dusky rose knit sweater that hugged her figure with effortless charm, paired with high-waisted jeans that flattered without trying too hard. A cropped beige trench coat trailed open behind her, brushing the tops of her boots with each stride, and a delicate silver pendant bounced gently at her collarbone, catching the occasional gleam from a passing car’s headlights. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the passing faces and familiar storefronts with a detached sort of fondness. She’d lived here long enough to recognize the layers of the city; the historical ghosts in the brickwork, the subtle shifts in neighborhoods where tradition clashed with gentrification, and the unspoken stories in every passerby’s glance. A bus rumbled by, drowning the chirp of a distant bird, and the scent of fresh bread drifted out from a nearby bakery, warm and nostalgic. Glory’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, a flicker of sentiment breaking through the cool composure that usually framed her features.
“Lately it seems as if the entire world is conspiring against The British Bombshell. Well, maybe ‘the entire world’ is a bit of an exaggeration, but at least Supreme Championship Wrestling. CHBK let Dexter Grant get away all sorts of crime in order to rob me time and time again of MY Adrenaline Championship. Then he ignored me, would not book me for weeks on end in favor of giving opportunities to that undeserving cancer of SCW Syren. I had to call my own shot to even get on the Rebirth card and when I did, CHBK once again showed favoritism towards Syren and bias against me, granting Syren an opportunity she did not deserve. Now, as a result of his impractical, insane booking practices, my back is against the wall in Taking Hold of the Flame. I had planned on entering the Flame in an attempt to earn my way to Rise To Greatness, to earn my way to a World Title Match. But now thanks to CHBK, in order to earn my way I will have to win the Flame by starting from the number one position. Those are seemingly impossible odds but I am The British Bombshell, I am The Best in the World, and I have beaten the odds on so many occasions in my career. Could I start from number one and win it all? Damn right I can.” Braddock shrugs her shoulders. “Then again, why should I give CHBK the pleasure of watching his little plans come together? Why should I allow anyone to dictate my fate?” The British Bombshell shakes her head.
“Unlike my daughter’s boyfriend, I do NOT believe that fate controls my life. I hold a semblance of control over my own destiny. I do not have to accept being the number one entrant in Taking Hold of the Flame, because I do not HAVE to enter Taking Hold of the Flame. I still have some power, some control, and some choice in my career. Rise to Greatness season is coming up. There won’t be many world title opportunities left until then and Taking Hold of the Flame will determine the final world title contender of the season. I know the importance of the Flame and of course I would love nothing more than to go bell to bell, win the whole damn thing, and make CHBK eat crow. But I can also afford to wait. I have a lot of years left in my career and I can afford to be patient and wait until the situation favors me, benefits me, or at the very least I am on an even playing field. Right now is definitely not an even playing field. So do I play CHBK’s game or do I play the long game and wait? Do I try and run the gauntlet or do I pull out of the Flame?” She smirks knowingly. “That is MY decision. I have at least that much power and I will wield it to the max. I will let you know when I am damn good and ready to let you know and you can’t do anything about it, CHBK.”
The British Bombshell takes in a deep breath of the English air and then lets it out. A warm, pleasant smile forms across her face as the intensity on her face dissipates ever so slightly; not by much, but enough to be noticeable. She focuses back on the camera and smirks.
“It is a very big decision to make and that is one reason why I am so glad to be back here in my home of London, England. When I am at a crossroads in my life, when I am in trouble and need help, when I have big personal or professional decisions to make, life or career altering decisions, I return home. It is right here in London where my father, Glenn Braddock, worked with me and trained with me from my early teenage years to follow in his footsteps. Right here in London and all over Great Britain, my father wrestled and became popular as Britain’s Best but he didn’t just keep his presence centered to just the United Kingdom alone. Glenn Braddock wrestled all over Europe. He made the Braddock name famous in France, Germany, Poland and so many other countries here all over Europe. Wrestling was his passion and he kept wrestling until he literally could not wrestle anymore. He wrestled until a back injury forced him into retirement and yet, even that injury would not keep him from his passion. He trained the next generation of wrestlers to carry on his legacy and mantle.” She pats herself on the chest.
“Yes, that’s me, I am his legacy. I carry on his mantle. I also inherited his passion for professional wrestling, which is why I get absolutely disgusted when I see people like Syren and CHBK and others trying to ruin this great sport with their filth. Letting idiots like Dexter Grant act like a deranged fool and make his own matches is not what this sport is about. Letting Syren have anything she wants just because she’s Syren is not what this sport is about. CHBK showing favoritism and bias is not what this sport is about. This sport is about two competitors, two WRESTLERS, stepping into the squared circle and fighting to see who is the best. I apologize if I sound salty, but I cannot stay quiet and just be a good little trooper all the while the sport my father loved is being made a mockery of.” She shakes her head.
“I will not remain quiet. This sport is about seeing who is the best and on any given day, on an even playing field, I can beat anyone on this planet. I am not demanding title shots, I am not demanding special treatment. I just want a fair opportunity. I also want the opportunity to showcase what I can do. I want the opportunity to compete in the squared circle, something that, lately in SCW, CHBK has been reluctant to give me…air time to compete in the ring. The last several matches I have had, I had to practically demand. I had to call him out. Except for this next Breakdown from my home of London, England.” She chuckles. “But let’s face it, he HAD to book me. This is London, I am The British Bombshell, and leaving me off the card would be insanity. Apologies if that sounds a tad arrogant, but it is also fact. The Braddock name is well known and well respected here. It is revered and respected all over Europe.” She points a finger at the camera.
“Which brings me to Kemal Yilmaz. You have your little foreign fraternity group running around making very little noise in SCW, following Konrad Raab around like lost little puppies. It’s the blind leading the blind. Since you are a part of this little fraternity, maybe you should ask Raab for some pointers on how to fight me? If he’s honest with you then he’ll tell you that you have no chance. He’ll tell you of the many times I already beat him in the center of the ring, and he is supposed to be your leader. So what could I possibly do to his followers? Add to the fact that I have the home field advantage. People all over Europe respect the Braddock name but in London? In London the Braddock name is revered. You will be fighting me and the thousands upon thousands of fans gathered in the 02 Arena backing me up, cheering me on, urging me to choke you out.” Braddock nods her head.
“Yes, I WILL choke you out…unless you tap out first, that’s the ONLY decision I am going to let you have. I will lock the Shekhinah Glory in tight and you will either tap out and give up or you will be choked out. EIther way is fine by me.” The British Bombshell chuckles. “It’s funny, you would think that we would get along, Kemal. We actually have quite a lot in common. We are both mat technicians. We are both Europeans. Although the way you and your boy band carry yourselves, how high and mighty you act about your European nationalism, I have to wonder what’s wrong with me? Am I not European enough for you? I was born here, raised here, got married here…BOTH TIMES…started my career here…all of my children were born here…I own a wrestling school here in London…how much more European can you get? Or do you just not like the fact that I am British?” She shrugs her shoulders.
“I do think that your exclusion of the English makes your moniker ‘The European Fiery Nation’ ever so dubious and questionable, but ultimately that is beside the point. It doesn’t matter because I don’t want to join your boy band. I don’t want to join you and your little European fraternity brothers. I am coming to the 02 to put on a show for my fans, for all of my friends and family who have supported me since the beginning. I am here because at the end of the day I am a WRESTLER and this great sport of WRESTLING is about competition. Two wrestlers, leaving everything in the middle of the ring, and you are my opponent. That’s all you are to me, an opponent. Besides, from what I hear the feeling is mutual.” Braddock nods her head. “I have heard the chatter. I might have been distracted these past few months with Dexter, Selena, Syren, and CHBK, but I am not deaf. I am not dumb enough to ignore everything that goes on around me. I heard that you have been itching for a fight with me. I have heard that you want to take your best shot at the best in the world.” The British Bombshell nods her head.
“And THAT, Kemal, is the one thing I will credit you for. I give you your props for targeting the best pure wrestler you know…namely me…and that you want to test yourself against me. That’s what wrestling should be. I respect you for that. So congratulations, Kemal, you get your wish. You get to test yourself against the best pure wrestler on this roster.” She holds up her finger. “But this is your ONE chance to make a statement, to show the world what you can do, so you had better make it count. Still, do not get things confused. You might have a good showing. Hell, you might have a damn good showing against me. In fact, I have no doubt that you and I will put on a clinic in front of these great ENGLISH wrestling fans. We will show the world watching at home what this business is all about. I have no doubt that you will do your best, you will use every move you know, every submission you know, and I will come back at you with every counter move I know, with submission I know, and maybe we’ll get a few dozen stars or whatever rating these kids give out nowadays. Yes, Kemal, I’ll give you your flowers and say that this will be a true wrestling classic.” She shakes her head.
“Unfortunately for you, all you get is the knowledge you will be part of a wrestling classic because beating me is not in your future. When the final bell rings Phillips will still utter the words you do not want to hear, the words you are destined to hear…” a wide smirk forms on her face “...the winner of the match, VIA SUBMISSION, Glory Braddock.” She shuts her eyes. “Sic Semper Tyrannis.”
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May 7th, 2025
London, England
On Camera
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The camera begins to roll and we open on a chilly morning in London, England. The streets of London stretched out in a mosaic of old-world charm and modern bustle, a city in perpetual conversation with itself. Cobblestones peeked through patches of worn asphalt in certain pockets, especially near the older boroughs where history clung to the architecture like ivy. The sidewalks, uneven in places, bore the scuff marks of countless commuters, tourists, and residents alike. Along the edges, cast-iron lampposts stood sentinel, their dark green paint chipped in places, revealing the iron beneath, an aged elegance that blended seamlessly with the soft, amber glow of their lanterns, still flickering against the lingering morning haze. Narrow alleys snaked off the main roads. Some were lined with independent bookshops and tucked-away cafés, their awnings faded by years of rain and sun, their windows steamed from the warmth inside. Others led to hidden courtyards or opened into unexpected pockets of greenery; urban gardens with wrought iron gates and benches dusted with early dew. Double-decker buses rumbled by with their distinct crimson flare, brakes sighing as they paused to swallow up clusters of passengers wrapped in coats and scarves. Cyclists zipped between cars, weaving through the dense traffic with the reflexes of seasoned navigators, their neon vests flashing like flags against the slate-grey backdrop of the city. Storefronts offered a parade of life. Overhead, the sky was a soft, uncertain gray, not yet rain, but not promising sun either; a typical London indecision.
Just then we see Glory Braddock moving into the scene from the right. Her golden blonde hair, left to hang straight and cascading past the shoulders, caught the pale sunlight in strands of soft gold, glinting with each step. She was dressed simply, but deliberately: a dusky rose knit sweater that hugged her figure with effortless charm, paired with high-waisted jeans that flattered without trying too hard. A cropped beige trench coat trailed open behind her, brushing the tops of her boots with each stride, and a delicate silver pendant bounced gently at her collarbone, catching the occasional gleam from a passing car’s headlights. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the passing faces and familiar storefronts with a detached sort of fondness. She’d lived here long enough to recognize the layers of the city; the historical ghosts in the brickwork, the subtle shifts in neighborhoods where tradition clashed with gentrification, and the unspoken stories in every passerby’s glance. A bus rumbled by, drowning the chirp of a distant bird, and the scent of fresh bread drifted out from a nearby bakery, warm and nostalgic. Glory’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile, a flicker of sentiment breaking through the cool composure that usually framed her features.
“Lately it seems as if the entire world is conspiring against The British Bombshell. Well, maybe ‘the entire world’ is a bit of an exaggeration, but at least Supreme Championship Wrestling. CHBK let Dexter Grant get away all sorts of crime in order to rob me time and time again of MY Adrenaline Championship. Then he ignored me, would not book me for weeks on end in favor of giving opportunities to that undeserving cancer of SCW Syren. I had to call my own shot to even get on the Rebirth card and when I did, CHBK once again showed favoritism towards Syren and bias against me, granting Syren an opportunity she did not deserve. Now, as a result of his impractical, insane booking practices, my back is against the wall in Taking Hold of the Flame. I had planned on entering the Flame in an attempt to earn my way to Rise To Greatness, to earn my way to a World Title Match. But now thanks to CHBK, in order to earn my way I will have to win the Flame by starting from the number one position. Those are seemingly impossible odds but I am The British Bombshell, I am The Best in the World, and I have beaten the odds on so many occasions in my career. Could I start from number one and win it all? Damn right I can.” Braddock shrugs her shoulders. “Then again, why should I give CHBK the pleasure of watching his little plans come together? Why should I allow anyone to dictate my fate?” The British Bombshell shakes her head.
“Unlike my daughter’s boyfriend, I do NOT believe that fate controls my life. I hold a semblance of control over my own destiny. I do not have to accept being the number one entrant in Taking Hold of the Flame, because I do not HAVE to enter Taking Hold of the Flame. I still have some power, some control, and some choice in my career. Rise to Greatness season is coming up. There won’t be many world title opportunities left until then and Taking Hold of the Flame will determine the final world title contender of the season. I know the importance of the Flame and of course I would love nothing more than to go bell to bell, win the whole damn thing, and make CHBK eat crow. But I can also afford to wait. I have a lot of years left in my career and I can afford to be patient and wait until the situation favors me, benefits me, or at the very least I am on an even playing field. Right now is definitely not an even playing field. So do I play CHBK’s game or do I play the long game and wait? Do I try and run the gauntlet or do I pull out of the Flame?” She smirks knowingly. “That is MY decision. I have at least that much power and I will wield it to the max. I will let you know when I am damn good and ready to let you know and you can’t do anything about it, CHBK.”
The British Bombshell takes in a deep breath of the English air and then lets it out. A warm, pleasant smile forms across her face as the intensity on her face dissipates ever so slightly; not by much, but enough to be noticeable. She focuses back on the camera and smirks.
“It is a very big decision to make and that is one reason why I am so glad to be back here in my home of London, England. When I am at a crossroads in my life, when I am in trouble and need help, when I have big personal or professional decisions to make, life or career altering decisions, I return home. It is right here in London where my father, Glenn Braddock, worked with me and trained with me from my early teenage years to follow in his footsteps. Right here in London and all over Great Britain, my father wrestled and became popular as Britain’s Best but he didn’t just keep his presence centered to just the United Kingdom alone. Glenn Braddock wrestled all over Europe. He made the Braddock name famous in France, Germany, Poland and so many other countries here all over Europe. Wrestling was his passion and he kept wrestling until he literally could not wrestle anymore. He wrestled until a back injury forced him into retirement and yet, even that injury would not keep him from his passion. He trained the next generation of wrestlers to carry on his legacy and mantle.” She pats herself on the chest.
“Yes, that’s me, I am his legacy. I carry on his mantle. I also inherited his passion for professional wrestling, which is why I get absolutely disgusted when I see people like Syren and CHBK and others trying to ruin this great sport with their filth. Letting idiots like Dexter Grant act like a deranged fool and make his own matches is not what this sport is about. Letting Syren have anything she wants just because she’s Syren is not what this sport is about. CHBK showing favoritism and bias is not what this sport is about. This sport is about two competitors, two WRESTLERS, stepping into the squared circle and fighting to see who is the best. I apologize if I sound salty, but I cannot stay quiet and just be a good little trooper all the while the sport my father loved is being made a mockery of.” She shakes her head.
“I will not remain quiet. This sport is about seeing who is the best and on any given day, on an even playing field, I can beat anyone on this planet. I am not demanding title shots, I am not demanding special treatment. I just want a fair opportunity. I also want the opportunity to showcase what I can do. I want the opportunity to compete in the squared circle, something that, lately in SCW, CHBK has been reluctant to give me…air time to compete in the ring. The last several matches I have had, I had to practically demand. I had to call him out. Except for this next Breakdown from my home of London, England.” She chuckles. “But let’s face it, he HAD to book me. This is London, I am The British Bombshell, and leaving me off the card would be insanity. Apologies if that sounds a tad arrogant, but it is also fact. The Braddock name is well known and well respected here. It is revered and respected all over Europe.” She points a finger at the camera.
“Which brings me to Kemal Yilmaz. You have your little foreign fraternity group running around making very little noise in SCW, following Konrad Raab around like lost little puppies. It’s the blind leading the blind. Since you are a part of this little fraternity, maybe you should ask Raab for some pointers on how to fight me? If he’s honest with you then he’ll tell you that you have no chance. He’ll tell you of the many times I already beat him in the center of the ring, and he is supposed to be your leader. So what could I possibly do to his followers? Add to the fact that I have the home field advantage. People all over Europe respect the Braddock name but in London? In London the Braddock name is revered. You will be fighting me and the thousands upon thousands of fans gathered in the 02 Arena backing me up, cheering me on, urging me to choke you out.” Braddock nods her head.
“Yes, I WILL choke you out…unless you tap out first, that’s the ONLY decision I am going to let you have. I will lock the Shekhinah Glory in tight and you will either tap out and give up or you will be choked out. EIther way is fine by me.” The British Bombshell chuckles. “It’s funny, you would think that we would get along, Kemal. We actually have quite a lot in common. We are both mat technicians. We are both Europeans. Although the way you and your boy band carry yourselves, how high and mighty you act about your European nationalism, I have to wonder what’s wrong with me? Am I not European enough for you? I was born here, raised here, got married here…BOTH TIMES…started my career here…all of my children were born here…I own a wrestling school here in London…how much more European can you get? Or do you just not like the fact that I am British?” She shrugs her shoulders.
“I do think that your exclusion of the English makes your moniker ‘The European Fiery Nation’ ever so dubious and questionable, but ultimately that is beside the point. It doesn’t matter because I don’t want to join your boy band. I don’t want to join you and your little European fraternity brothers. I am coming to the 02 to put on a show for my fans, for all of my friends and family who have supported me since the beginning. I am here because at the end of the day I am a WRESTLER and this great sport of WRESTLING is about competition. Two wrestlers, leaving everything in the middle of the ring, and you are my opponent. That’s all you are to me, an opponent. Besides, from what I hear the feeling is mutual.” Braddock nods her head. “I have heard the chatter. I might have been distracted these past few months with Dexter, Selena, Syren, and CHBK, but I am not deaf. I am not dumb enough to ignore everything that goes on around me. I heard that you have been itching for a fight with me. I have heard that you want to take your best shot at the best in the world.” The British Bombshell nods her head.
“And THAT, Kemal, is the one thing I will credit you for. I give you your props for targeting the best pure wrestler you know…namely me…and that you want to test yourself against me. That’s what wrestling should be. I respect you for that. So congratulations, Kemal, you get your wish. You get to test yourself against the best pure wrestler on this roster.” She holds up her finger. “But this is your ONE chance to make a statement, to show the world what you can do, so you had better make it count. Still, do not get things confused. You might have a good showing. Hell, you might have a damn good showing against me. In fact, I have no doubt that you and I will put on a clinic in front of these great ENGLISH wrestling fans. We will show the world watching at home what this business is all about. I have no doubt that you will do your best, you will use every move you know, every submission you know, and I will come back at you with every counter move I know, with submission I know, and maybe we’ll get a few dozen stars or whatever rating these kids give out nowadays. Yes, Kemal, I’ll give you your flowers and say that this will be a true wrestling classic.” She shakes her head.
“Unfortunately for you, all you get is the knowledge you will be part of a wrestling classic because beating me is not in your future. When the final bell rings Phillips will still utter the words you do not want to hear, the words you are destined to hear…” a wide smirk forms on her face “...the winner of the match, VIA SUBMISSION, Glory Braddock.” She shuts her eyes. “Sic Semper Tyrannis.”
![[Image: qyA5u6K.png]](https://i.imgur.com/qyA5u6K.png)
SCW World Champion 1x
SCW United States Champion 1x
SCW Adrenaline Champion 1x
SCW Television Champion 1x
SCW World Tag Team Champion 1x (w/Brittany Lohan)
Supreme Champion
2019 Trios Tournament Winner (w/ Regan Street & Kellen Jeffries)
2020 Trios Tournament Winner (w/ Ace Marshall & David Helms)
SCW Adrenaline Champion 1x
SCW Television Champion 1x
SCW World Tag Team Champion 1x (w/Brittany Lohan)
Supreme Champion
2019 Trios Tournament Winner (w/ Regan Street & Kellen Jeffries)
2020 Trios Tournament Winner (w/ Ace Marshall & David Helms)