Glory Braddock vs. Gavin Taylor

[Braddock]

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November 23rd, 2025
Birmingham, England
Off Camera
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Glory Braddock came up short at Under Attack in her bid to become SCW World Champion. It was a disappointment but The British Bombshell is not going to let this one setback stop her. She did not fight so long and so hard to be denied like this; if it means going back on another winning streak, earning another title shot, then so be it. She earned her opportunity the old fashioned way once, she can do it again. In fact, she already has put the defeat behind her and is focusing on climbing the ladder again; beginning with the self-proclaimed All Star and, apparently, delusional American hero, Gavin Taylor. The British Bombshell and The All Star are no strangers to one another. This will be the third time they have done battle in Supreme Championship Wrestling. In 2020 she successfully defended her Adrenaline Championship, then she beat him again in 2024 on Breakdown. Despite having never lost to Gavin, and despite the fact that Gavin has been exceptionally delusional as of late, The British Bombshell recognizes that he is always dangerous and always a threat. She does not intend to overlook him. Knocking Gavin Taylor down and out for a third time in a row will be a great way to rebound, to start her climb back up to the World Championship.

For now, however, The British Bombshell has other problems on her mind. These problems have forced her into an unsteady, unusual alliance that makes her very uncomfortable. It doesn’t help matters that she is out and about in a dangerous part of England; a poor area of Birmingham.

Dusk settled over Birmingham. Streetlamps flickered to life one by one, the bulbs humming as if reluctant to take on the burden of lighting streets that had long ago stopped caring about being seen. The neighborhood around Glory Braddock was a skeleton of its former self; row houses stooped low as if exhausted, brick walls tagged with the memories of gangs that came and went, and windows covered with plywood or grime-fogged glass that reflected distorted versions of the passersby. Glory moved through it all with the quiet confidence of someone who’d lived through worse. Her boots tapped along the uneven pavement, steady but not overly loud, the sound swallowed by the sprawling silence that settled over the block. Her long blonde hair, pulled back loosely to keep it out of her face, still caught the dying light and flashed like a warning. She dressed in practical layers, dark jeans, a scuffed jacket that looked like it had been through more than a few back-alley brawls, and a tomboyish ease that marked her as someone who belonged nowhere and everywhere at once. She didn’t seem afraid, but there was an intensity in her stride, a tension that made her shoulders sit a little higher than usual. Behind her walked Clyde Sutter. His pace was a slow, deliberate stalk, the kind that made people watching from cracked doorways decide to close them again. He was enormous, even in the dim light, all broad shoulders and carved muscle, built like someone who had to think twice before stepping into a narrow hallway. His long black hair hung down his back, occasionally shifting when the breeze teased it. His face was hard, set in a permanent scowl that had little to do with danger and everything to do with the woman leading him into it. A storm surrounded him, quiet but dangerous, the kind that promised more trouble than the streets around them.

The two moved together but not with each other. There was too much heat simmering beneath the surface; unspoken thoughts, old grievances, still-open wounds. Glory kept her gaze fixed ahead; Clyde’s eyes flicked everywhere but her, scanning windows, corners, alleys, always searching, always ready. They looked like partners forced back into alliance, not because they trusted each other, but because they needed something only the other could provide. Trash rustled in the gutters. A dog barked somewhere behind a chain link fence. The last streaks of daylight slipped behind the rooftops, leaving only the jaundiced glow of artificial light to guide them. Glory slowed when the buildings around them grew older, more neglected, the kind with sagging porches and brick that had begun to soften from years of rain and cold. She took in the environment with surgical precision identifying vantage points, exits, shadows deep enough to hide knives or worse. She inhaled once, a careful breath, and Clyde noticed. His jaw tightened. Glory didn’t look at him, but the distance between them shrank by the slightest fraction, an instinctive shift that suggested she needed him closer even if she didn’t want to admit it.

“You know, Gloria, I am surprised that you actually reached out to me of all people.” Clyde remarks pointedly with a smug grin on his face. “Of all the people to ask a favor of me, you were certainly the last person I expected it from.”

“You weren’t my first choice.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles. “Still, I love the irony of it all. You kicked me out of your late father’s prestigious wrestling school. You have tried so hard to convince your beloved daughter that I am this horrible monster and that marrying me is a mistake. Yet here you are, working with me. Are you desperate, Gloria?”

“Like I said…” Braddock is growing more and more frustrated “...you were NOT my first choice.”

“Then why ask me?”

“Because I have to be here.” Glory snaps back, glaring back at him with daggers, with hatred in her eyes. “I need to be here, I need to find someone, and I think they are here. But this isn’t exactly one of the safest parts of Birmingham.”

“Ah, so you were afraid?”

“Me? Afraid?” She rolls her eyes. “Bloody hell, do you even know me? I am not afraid. To be honest, I would rather be here alone than spend time with you.”

“Then why bother asking me, Gloria?” He shrugs his shoulders. “Why not go it alone?”

“Because…” she grits her teeth “...Kurt wouldn’t come because even he is afraid of this place but he refused to let me go it alone.”

“Kurt? Your husband?” Clyde laughs. “That’s rich!”

“You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” Glory sneers.

“Yes.” He nods his head. “Because I can see through your facade. “You may have this outward appearance of once again being your fiercely independent tomboyish self but yet here you are, admitting to m e that you let your husband make decisions for you.”

“I am NOT doing a damn thing to satisfy Kurt and I am definitely not letting him make decisions for me!” She snaps back angrily. “I am doing this because my daughter is about to get married to a man who I, personally, think is a piece of shit.” Braddock snarls. Clyde smirks arrogantly. “I am doing this to show her what marriage is about…marriage is about compromise. It’s about give and take. You have to make sacrifices for the ones you love. I would rather be out here alone than be here with you, Clyde, but if being with you is something that will put Kurt’s mind at ease, then I’ll make that sacrifice for him.”

“So…” Clyde’s voice trails off momentarily “...does that mean you have accepted the fact that me being your son-in-law is inevitable? That the marriage is inevitable?”

The British Bombshell and The Harbinger of Fate lock eyes. Glory steels herself as she stares into the eyes of Clyde Sutter. His eyes and that smile almost mock her. Finally Braddock lets out a soft sigh and nods her head.

“Yes, I have accepted it. Do I like it?” She shakes her head. “No, that will still take time. But I have grown to accept it.” She turns and starts to walk again. “Now come on, we need to keep searching.”

“Searching for who?” Sutter asks. “You still haven’t told me who…or what…we are looking for?”

“John.” Glory states. “His name is John.”

“And who is John?”

“A homeless teenagerI encountered several weeks ago.”

“Seriously?” Clyde chuckles. “You are coming off of a World Title loss. You need to get back on track, you have a match against Gavin Taylor to do that, and yet you are focusing your efforts on trying to track down a homeless kid?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I admit that it makes little sense.” Clyde remarks.

“I just have to do this, ok?” Glory insists. “I need to remind myself of who I am. For far too long I got caught up in the glitz and glamor of being famous, of being wealthy, and in the process I forgot who I am. Being a tomboy again isn’t the only part of rediscovering my identity. I need to remember what being a Braddock is all about.”

“Being a Braddock is about helping people?”

“Yes.” She states. “Exactly.”

“You helped me once.” He answers. “Sure, we may not be on the most pleasant of terms right this instant, but you did get my foot in the door of professional wrestling and professional wrestling helped me escape these dangerous, crime ridden streets. Wrestling helped me escape my former life of crime. You are a good person, Gloria. You do not need to go out of your way to help some random lost cause to prove it to yourself or anyone else.”

Glory Braddock isn’t quite sure how to react to this subtle, small compliment from Clyde Sutter. She isn’t used to him saying anything good about her. But he does raise a good point. Does she need to do this? Does she really need to track down some random teenager just to validate her goodness? Why can’t she just accept that she is a good person? Everyone else knows it.

They were searching; she was hunting for a face she expected to find here, a young poor teenage she knew only as John. She was hoping to find him and help him, put him in contact with her sister, Julia Braddock, where her organization can give him the resources he needs to have a better life. It’s all part of The British Bombshell trying to rediscover who she is, who she is meant to be; but tracking down someone like John is a dangerous task, especially here in Birmingham. Much to her displeasure, she is forced to work with Clyde Sutter. He knows these streets all too well. He had to fight to survive on these streets most of his life. She may not like the fact that he is dating her daughter Melinda, but he may be the only one who can help her. The tension between them built the deeper they moved into the neighborhood. It wasn’t the environment making them uneasy; it was each other. Glory’s stride occasionally hitched, the smallest hesitation whenever Clyde stepped too close. Clyde’s hands curled into fists every time Glory picked up speed, as if she were deliberately walking ahead to make a point. A narrow street branched off to their right, darker than the rest, swallowed by shadows even the streetlamps couldn’t quite penetrate. Glory slowed, eyes narrowing at the sight of it. Clyde came up beside her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him like a furnace, but still distant enough to make clear he wasn’t offering comfort. Only strength. Only power. Only the uneasy alliance they were stuck with.

“You were wise in asking me to join you.” Clyde remarks pointedly. “This neighborhood is dangerous.”

“Yes, I know.” Glory rolls. “Kurt kept whining about it nonstop.”

“Are you sure this is where we can find this teenager of yours? This John? Are you sure this is the neighborhood we can find him?”

“Honestly,” she sighs and shrugs her shoulders “I don’t really know. I’m basing this on what I’ve been told by my sister.”

“Wonderful.” Clyde remarks sarcastically.

“Mock it if you want but my sister knows these things. Her organization, The Julia Foundation, has its mission to help people like John. They need to know things like this. She is certain that we can find John here.”

“Let’s hope your sister’s intelligence is worthwhile.” Clyde states quietly. “Despite our contentious relationship, Gloria, I do hate it that you did not become SCW World Champion at Under Attack.”

“Bullshit.” Glory remarks as they continue their walk through the dark alleys of Birmingham. “You don’t give a crap.”

“You are mistaken.” Clyde answers. “Me and your children, Melinda and Fiona, we were all hoping you would dethrone Mr. Turner. It is a shame that it did not happen.”

“Yes, well, losses happen. It comes with the game.” She sighs. “I’ll just have to earn another opportunity. I have to win my way back into title contention. But don’t worry, Clyde, if you really do care about my career I have a chance to rebound against Gavin Taylor.”

“You will rebound.” He states. “I am sure of it.”

“This will be the third time in five years I have wrestled him one on one.” She chuckles. “It’s like we cannot get away from each other.”

“He’s never beaten you?” Sutter asks. Glory shakes her head.

“Nope. I do not intend to let him win this one.” Suddenly a noise startles The British Bombshell. She looks around for where the sound came from. Clyde heard it too. “You heard that, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I think…” Glory scans the area until she spots two figures, one larger man roughing up a teenager; the teen is unmistakably the one they are looking for “...John!”

The larger man picks John up by the throat and slams him against a brick wall. He punches him in the gut, causing John to double over in pain. Sutter and Glory rush over to intervene. Sutter opts to take care of the aggressor. He pulls the man off of John and glares intensely at him.

“You should pick on someone your own size, my friend.” Sutter remarks stoically.

“Screw you!” The man exclaims. “Mind your own damn business!”

He throws a punch but Clyde easily blocks it and throws one of his own, knocking him on the ground. While The Assassin deals with this bully, Glory Braddock focuses on tending to the teenager she had been searching for. The British Bombshell gently helps him to his feet.

“John, are you ok?”

“Yeah, I…” John focuses his gaze on Glory Braddock and his eyes grow wide with shock “...Glory? Is that really you?”

“In the flesh.”

“But how…” John shakes his head in disbelief “...why?”

“It doesn’t matter right now.” She states. “All that matters is that you’re safe and I am here to help.”