07-20-2026, 08:28 PM
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July 18th, 2026
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
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The Braddock home had a quiet confidence about it, the kind that came from being lived in rather than displayed. It was unmistakably modern, with clean architectural lines, wide open spaces, and enormous windows that welcomed the South Florida sunshine inside, but it never felt cold or impersonal. Every room carried signs that people actually lived there. Books rested on side tables instead of being arranged solely for decoration. Family photographs occupied shelves alongside wrestling trophies, framed event posters, and souvenirs collected from years of traveling around the world. Nothing looked staged. The house had style, but it also had history. Outside, the Miami afternoon was beginning to settle into the slower pace that arrived after the worst of the day’s heat had passed. Palm trees swayed gently beyond the floor to ceiling windows, their leaves catching the breeze that rolled in from the coast. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue broken only by slow moving white clouds drifting lazily overhead. Sunlight poured through the glass, filling the living room with a warm golden glow that reflected softly off polished hardwood floors. The living room itself occupied the center of the home and felt every bit like the heart of it. The ceiling rose high overhead, making the room feel spacious without becoming cavernous. Neutral colored walls gave the space an understated elegance while allowing the artwork and photographs to provide personality. A large sectional sofa in a light gray fabric wrapped around a substantial wooden coffee table that bore the faint marks of years of use. Large indoor plants occupied the corners of the room, adding touches of green that softened the modern architecture. The faint scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, mixed with the clean smell of polished wood and the subtle fragrance of whatever tropical flowers had been arranged on the kitchen island just beyond the open living space.
The house was unusually quiet. Normally Glory’s personality seemed to fill every room she occupied. Even when she wasn’t speaking, there was an unmistakable energy that followed her, the confident presence of someone who had spent decades commanding arenas full of thousands of people. Her absence left a noticeable gap. The house did not feel empty exactly, but it felt calmer, almost contemplative. Kurt Logan sat comfortably at one end of the sectional, looking perfectly at home in surroundings that had long since become second nature to him. His dark hair was neatly combed, though a few strands had naturally settled out of place over the course of the afternoon. He wore a fitted navy blue polo shirt with the sleeves hugging his athletic arms and a pair of dark jeans that looked comfortably broken in rather than brand new. Even sitting at ease, he carried himself with the quiet posture of someone who had spent much of his life in professional athletics. His shoulders remained naturally square, his movements economical, his expression relaxed but attentive. Across from him sat Melinda Braddock. She looked effortlessly elegant without appearing overdressed for a quiet afternoon at home. Her long blonde hair fell in smooth, carefully maintained waves over her shoulders, catching the afternoon sunlight whenever she turned her head. She wore a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly into fitted light blue jeans that complemented rather than competed with the understated sophistication of the room. The sleeves of the blouse had been rolled just enough to give it a more relaxed appearance while still maintaining its polished look. A delicate gold bracelet rested around one wrist, accompanied by a simple necklace that reflected tiny flashes of sunlight every time she shifted. Anyone meeting her for the first time would likely describe her as graceful. Beside her sat Fiona Logan. The contrast between the two young women remained as striking as ever, yet somehow they looked entirely natural sitting together. Fiona’s long black hair flowed freely over her shoulders and down her back, less meticulously arranged than Melinda’s but no less striking. A few loose strands framed her face, giving her appearance an effortless authenticity that suited her personality perfectly. She wore a charcoal gray fitted T shirt beneath an unbuttoned dark green flannel shirt whose sleeves had been rolled to her elbows. Black jeans and well worn lace up boots completed the outfit, practical clothing chosen for comfort rather than appearance. She leaned slightly forward in her seat instead of reclining comfortably against the cushions. One forearm rested casually on her thigh while her hands remained loosely clasped together. Her posture hinted at someone who always seemed prepared to stand up at a moment’s notice, never quite surrendering completely to relaxation.
The past several weeks had been emotionally exhausting, and while Fiona had regained much of her normal edge, traces of that experience still lingered beneath the surface. The difficult meetings with Todd Osbourne had forced her to revisit memories she had spent years trying to bury. She carried herself well enough that strangers would never notice, but those closest to her could still occasionally see moments when her expression drifted inward for just a second before returning to the present. Being here helped. Sunlight continued drifting slowly across the hardwood floor as the afternoon wore on. Somewhere deeper in the house, the faint hum of the air conditioning blended with the occasional rustle of palm leaves outside. A distant boat could just barely be heard crossing the nearby waterway, its engine fading almost as quickly as it appeared. The living room remained peaceful, wrapped in warm light and comfortable silence. For a little while, with Glory away and the outside world held at bay beyond the glass walls of the house, it felt as though the three of them had been given a rare opportunity to simply exist together.
“Thanks for letting us pop in.” Fiona states.
“And thank you for making sure that mother would not be here.” Melinda says rather cooly. “I would not want her presence to create a disturbance. We all know she has to hog the spotlight.”
“Well when your mom finds out that you two came over and I didn’t tell her she’s going to kill me.” Kurt chuckles. “I mean, she is overseas in England right now but still, she would have at least wanted a brief FaceTime call with you two.”
“That can wait.” Melinda snaps back. “Anything involving her can wait.”
“Tell us how ya really feel why don’t ya?” Fiona snickers. Kurt looks at his two children and sighs.
“Melinda, I have tried so hard not to get involved. I have tried to let you and your mother sort this out between yourselves. But honestly? You should consider talking to her about, well, whatever the hell it is she’s doing that is pissing you off.”
“Not interested.” Braddock shakes her head.
“Your mother doesn’t even know what she did that make you so upset.”
“Then she is a fool.” Melinda remarks. “And I am still not interested in making things right with her, not until she can at least figure out what she did wrong.”
“Whatever you say.” Kurt sighs and shakes his head, deciding not to pursue that particular subject for moment. “I heard you made your return to SCW?”
“Yeah we did!” Fiona exclaims gleefully. “And we really put the boots to that goofy bitch Scarlet Carsons!”
“Making friends as always, I see.” Kurt chuckles.
“Friendships and alliances only get you so far in this business. You know that as well as I do.” Melinda remarks. “We will be smart about where our allegiance will lie, but for now we have to finish what we started with Carsons. Not to mention our return match against Hollywood.”
“Pffft,” Fiona scoffs “we beat those clowns once, we’ll beat them again. Simple.”
“Nothing is ever simple in this business.” Kurt says. “As I’m sure Melinda will be quick to remind you. If I am correct SCW is undergoing a bit of a power struggle, yes? CHBK and the new CEO Frank Delatosso?”
“Hardly a struggle, really.” Fiona says, waving her hands. “Franky got rid of that old dinosaur long before we returned.”
“With CHBK gone we felt it was the perfect timing for our return.” Melinda smirks knowingly. “He never did give us a fair shake. Perhaps the new order will?
“Backstage politics is always a messy thing, girls.” Kurt sighs. “I hope you know what you two are doing.”
“Trust me, I am confident that The Vision will navigate the new status quo quite well.”
“Besides, even if we do ruffle some feathers so what?” Fiona asks. “Big deal! Me and Mels are damn good at what we do. At the end of the day, no matter how politicking goes on, the name of the game is still WINNING and we can always find a way to win. Starting with Hollywood.”
“You seem pretty confident, Fiona.” Kurt changes the subject. “Does this mean you have finally dealt with your old foster father Todd Osbourne?”
The mention of Todd Osbourne instantly causes a drastic shift in the mood. Fiona had a look of mischief upon her lovely face until this point. Now she just frowns; her look is now borderline dread. She and Melinda know the truth; Fiona has yet to deal with the looming figure of her foster father trying to return and trying to make amends and trying to form a relationship with her. The Boston Badass has intentionally tried to avoid it. But Kurt Logan and Melinda Braddock have both been of the mindset that she needs to do something and soon, whether she tell him to get lost or whether she agrees to give him another chance.
“Not yet…” she admits.
“Have you had any further contact with him?” Kurt asks.
Well he is still in Miami, if that’s what you mean.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Outside of that there isn’t much to say. He moved to Miami because he knew Mels has a place here and you live here and that I tend to hang my hat with one of you.”
“So he’s still stalking you?” Kurt asks. Fiona shakes her head.
“No, not at all. He has been respecting my privacy, shockingly enough.”
“It is quite obvious what is going on here.” Melinda Braddock, The Third Generation Goddess, says. “He is letting you make the next move, Fiona.”
“Melinda is right.” Kurt states with a nod of his head. “He is waiting on you to make the next move. So the question is, will you?”
“Do we really have to talk about this?” Fiona whines. “I’d much rather be plotting how I’m gonna bounce Chris and Ryan Hollywood’s heads around the arena like basketballs.”
“You can’t put it off forever.” Melinda pats her on the back gently. Fiona sighs out of frustration.
“Fine.” She shakes her head. “Honestly? I am not sure what I want to do. Every time I see him, hell, every time his name is mentioned, my body freezes up. I become that whimpering girl again that was afraid of him. So really I am honestly not sure what I will do if I happen to run into him again.”
“That’s why it’s best for you to make the next move.” Kurt points out. “That way you have the home field advantage and you have the advantage of knowing he’s coming. No surprises.”
“I’m just not sure I can trust him.”
“I understand where you are coming from, truly I do.” Melinda takes Fiona’s hand grips it tightly. “My mother was pregnant with me as a teenager and my father ran out on her when he found out. When he came back after I turned eighteen, when he tried to return to my life and form a relationship with me after he ran off on me and mother, I was furious. I did not want anything to do with him.”
“But you two worked it out…” Fiona’s voice trails off. Melinda nods her head.
“Yes, we did. I told you the story before but I repeat it again because it is proof positive that people can change. And perhaps Todd is trying to change? Maybe he does genuinely want to make things right between you and him?”
“His Miami residence,” Kurt begins “is it permanent?”
“No, it’s temporary.” Fiona remarks. “His permanent residence is still in Boston and as far as I know he is going to return once he has his definitive answer about where we stand.”
“Well in that case he definitely deserves an answer and closure, even if that answer is a definite no. Even if you tell him to stay out of your life forever, he deserves to hear it so that he can move on with his life.”
“And then you can move on with yours.” Melinda chimes in.
“Fine, you win, quit double teaming me.” Fiona sighs out of frustration. “I’ll meet him. I’ll contact him and arrange a meeting.”
“And you will give him the closure you both deserve?” Melinda asks.
“Yeah…he’ll get his answer…”
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Vlog 72
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Greetings my lovelies! Did you miss us? I know you did because, let’s face it, what meaning does your life have without me, The Third Generation Goddess, and my sister, my partner, my best friend The Boston Badass Fiona Loan, to do what The Vision does best and that is to lead the new generation of professional wrestling into the future?
Did you idiots really think that me and Mels were running away? Did you really think that we had stepped away from Supreme Championship Wrestling? We have fought fake tough guys and fake badasses all over the globe in promotions all over the world. We have won tag team championships every single promotion we have been in. We have endured the pressure of the bright lights. We have stepped up to everyone. Did we get punched in the mouth? Yeah. But did we punch them right back? Damn right we did. Mels and I back down from no challenge and if you thought we were gonna back down and step away from SCW you are a damn fool.
That is a brilliant point, Fiona. The Vision does not back down from a challenge. But do you know who should back down? You know who should quit while they are ahead?
Hollywood. Which brings me to the first set of HASHTAGS!
#ChrisLoser
#RyanLoser
#HollyLoser
You definitely remember us, right boys? And I do hope those memories are painful ones. We have beaten you before and what better way to make our grand return than by picking you apart, piece by piece, yet again.
We saw your pathetic social media; you want to try something new, just try. Some might hear that and feel all warm and fuzzy inside but me? I hear that it makes me sick. That’s not the outlook of a winner. A winner doesn’t just try. A winner WINS and me and Mels, we are winners, unlike the two of you. We know when to pick our spots whereas you two clowns just sit around and wait until some opportunity drops into your laps. Just like this one at Breakdown. It is a great opportunity that fell into your laps and you dweebs did nothing to deserve it. You have a hell of a chance to take down a premier tag team in me and Mels and finally get the idiot fans to talking about you again. And it all just fell into your lap. Me and Mels? We MAKE our opportunities. We TAKE our opportunities. We don’t need anything to just fall into our laps.
Ah but allow me to correct my dear sister on something. What you two boys have is not a true blue opportunity. You have what I call “the illusion of an opportunity.” Fate has put you in this position so that you will remain content and happy, so that you will not rebel against the status quo it has set up. The truth is, Hollywood, that Fate has set you up for failure against The Vision in the form of a so-called opportunity. But it is by no means an opportunity. Not for you, at least. Fate has gifted the REAL opportunity to myself and Fiona, an opportunity to remind SCW what we are capable of.
Great, there’s that fate talk again. Can’t we just beat the crap out of ‘em Mels and ignore the fate stuff?
No worries, Fiona. We will have plenty of time for that. Right, Chris? Right Ryan? That is what you can expect come Breakdown.
#AcceptYourFate
#TheVisionIsBack
#YourFateIsSealed
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July 18th, 2026
Miami, Florida
Off Camera
==========
The Braddock home had a quiet confidence about it, the kind that came from being lived in rather than displayed. It was unmistakably modern, with clean architectural lines, wide open spaces, and enormous windows that welcomed the South Florida sunshine inside, but it never felt cold or impersonal. Every room carried signs that people actually lived there. Books rested on side tables instead of being arranged solely for decoration. Family photographs occupied shelves alongside wrestling trophies, framed event posters, and souvenirs collected from years of traveling around the world. Nothing looked staged. The house had style, but it also had history. Outside, the Miami afternoon was beginning to settle into the slower pace that arrived after the worst of the day’s heat had passed. Palm trees swayed gently beyond the floor to ceiling windows, their leaves catching the breeze that rolled in from the coast. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue broken only by slow moving white clouds drifting lazily overhead. Sunlight poured through the glass, filling the living room with a warm golden glow that reflected softly off polished hardwood floors. The living room itself occupied the center of the home and felt every bit like the heart of it. The ceiling rose high overhead, making the room feel spacious without becoming cavernous. Neutral colored walls gave the space an understated elegance while allowing the artwork and photographs to provide personality. A large sectional sofa in a light gray fabric wrapped around a substantial wooden coffee table that bore the faint marks of years of use. Large indoor plants occupied the corners of the room, adding touches of green that softened the modern architecture. The faint scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, mixed with the clean smell of polished wood and the subtle fragrance of whatever tropical flowers had been arranged on the kitchen island just beyond the open living space.
The house was unusually quiet. Normally Glory’s personality seemed to fill every room she occupied. Even when she wasn’t speaking, there was an unmistakable energy that followed her, the confident presence of someone who had spent decades commanding arenas full of thousands of people. Her absence left a noticeable gap. The house did not feel empty exactly, but it felt calmer, almost contemplative. Kurt Logan sat comfortably at one end of the sectional, looking perfectly at home in surroundings that had long since become second nature to him. His dark hair was neatly combed, though a few strands had naturally settled out of place over the course of the afternoon. He wore a fitted navy blue polo shirt with the sleeves hugging his athletic arms and a pair of dark jeans that looked comfortably broken in rather than brand new. Even sitting at ease, he carried himself with the quiet posture of someone who had spent much of his life in professional athletics. His shoulders remained naturally square, his movements economical, his expression relaxed but attentive. Across from him sat Melinda Braddock. She looked effortlessly elegant without appearing overdressed for a quiet afternoon at home. Her long blonde hair fell in smooth, carefully maintained waves over her shoulders, catching the afternoon sunlight whenever she turned her head. She wore a soft ivory blouse tucked neatly into fitted light blue jeans that complemented rather than competed with the understated sophistication of the room. The sleeves of the blouse had been rolled just enough to give it a more relaxed appearance while still maintaining its polished look. A delicate gold bracelet rested around one wrist, accompanied by a simple necklace that reflected tiny flashes of sunlight every time she shifted. Anyone meeting her for the first time would likely describe her as graceful. Beside her sat Fiona Logan. The contrast between the two young women remained as striking as ever, yet somehow they looked entirely natural sitting together. Fiona’s long black hair flowed freely over her shoulders and down her back, less meticulously arranged than Melinda’s but no less striking. A few loose strands framed her face, giving her appearance an effortless authenticity that suited her personality perfectly. She wore a charcoal gray fitted T shirt beneath an unbuttoned dark green flannel shirt whose sleeves had been rolled to her elbows. Black jeans and well worn lace up boots completed the outfit, practical clothing chosen for comfort rather than appearance. She leaned slightly forward in her seat instead of reclining comfortably against the cushions. One forearm rested casually on her thigh while her hands remained loosely clasped together. Her posture hinted at someone who always seemed prepared to stand up at a moment’s notice, never quite surrendering completely to relaxation.
The past several weeks had been emotionally exhausting, and while Fiona had regained much of her normal edge, traces of that experience still lingered beneath the surface. The difficult meetings with Todd Osbourne had forced her to revisit memories she had spent years trying to bury. She carried herself well enough that strangers would never notice, but those closest to her could still occasionally see moments when her expression drifted inward for just a second before returning to the present. Being here helped. Sunlight continued drifting slowly across the hardwood floor as the afternoon wore on. Somewhere deeper in the house, the faint hum of the air conditioning blended with the occasional rustle of palm leaves outside. A distant boat could just barely be heard crossing the nearby waterway, its engine fading almost as quickly as it appeared. The living room remained peaceful, wrapped in warm light and comfortable silence. For a little while, with Glory away and the outside world held at bay beyond the glass walls of the house, it felt as though the three of them had been given a rare opportunity to simply exist together.
“Thanks for letting us pop in.” Fiona states.
“And thank you for making sure that mother would not be here.” Melinda says rather cooly. “I would not want her presence to create a disturbance. We all know she has to hog the spotlight.”
“Well when your mom finds out that you two came over and I didn’t tell her she’s going to kill me.” Kurt chuckles. “I mean, she is overseas in England right now but still, she would have at least wanted a brief FaceTime call with you two.”
“That can wait.” Melinda snaps back. “Anything involving her can wait.”
“Tell us how ya really feel why don’t ya?” Fiona snickers. Kurt looks at his two children and sighs.
“Melinda, I have tried so hard not to get involved. I have tried to let you and your mother sort this out between yourselves. But honestly? You should consider talking to her about, well, whatever the hell it is she’s doing that is pissing you off.”
“Not interested.” Braddock shakes her head.
“Your mother doesn’t even know what she did that make you so upset.”
“Then she is a fool.” Melinda remarks. “And I am still not interested in making things right with her, not until she can at least figure out what she did wrong.”
“Whatever you say.” Kurt sighs and shakes his head, deciding not to pursue that particular subject for moment. “I heard you made your return to SCW?”
“Yeah we did!” Fiona exclaims gleefully. “And we really put the boots to that goofy bitch Scarlet Carsons!”
“Making friends as always, I see.” Kurt chuckles.
“Friendships and alliances only get you so far in this business. You know that as well as I do.” Melinda remarks. “We will be smart about where our allegiance will lie, but for now we have to finish what we started with Carsons. Not to mention our return match against Hollywood.”
“Pffft,” Fiona scoffs “we beat those clowns once, we’ll beat them again. Simple.”
“Nothing is ever simple in this business.” Kurt says. “As I’m sure Melinda will be quick to remind you. If I am correct SCW is undergoing a bit of a power struggle, yes? CHBK and the new CEO Frank Delatosso?”
“Hardly a struggle, really.” Fiona says, waving her hands. “Franky got rid of that old dinosaur long before we returned.”
“With CHBK gone we felt it was the perfect timing for our return.” Melinda smirks knowingly. “He never did give us a fair shake. Perhaps the new order will?
“Backstage politics is always a messy thing, girls.” Kurt sighs. “I hope you know what you two are doing.”
“Trust me, I am confident that The Vision will navigate the new status quo quite well.”
“Besides, even if we do ruffle some feathers so what?” Fiona asks. “Big deal! Me and Mels are damn good at what we do. At the end of the day, no matter how politicking goes on, the name of the game is still WINNING and we can always find a way to win. Starting with Hollywood.”
“You seem pretty confident, Fiona.” Kurt changes the subject. “Does this mean you have finally dealt with your old foster father Todd Osbourne?”
The mention of Todd Osbourne instantly causes a drastic shift in the mood. Fiona had a look of mischief upon her lovely face until this point. Now she just frowns; her look is now borderline dread. She and Melinda know the truth; Fiona has yet to deal with the looming figure of her foster father trying to return and trying to make amends and trying to form a relationship with her. The Boston Badass has intentionally tried to avoid it. But Kurt Logan and Melinda Braddock have both been of the mindset that she needs to do something and soon, whether she tell him to get lost or whether she agrees to give him another chance.
“Not yet…” she admits.
“Have you had any further contact with him?” Kurt asks.
Well he is still in Miami, if that’s what you mean.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Outside of that there isn’t much to say. He moved to Miami because he knew Mels has a place here and you live here and that I tend to hang my hat with one of you.”
“So he’s still stalking you?” Kurt asks. Fiona shakes her head.
“No, not at all. He has been respecting my privacy, shockingly enough.”
“It is quite obvious what is going on here.” Melinda Braddock, The Third Generation Goddess, says. “He is letting you make the next move, Fiona.”
“Melinda is right.” Kurt states with a nod of his head. “He is waiting on you to make the next move. So the question is, will you?”
“Do we really have to talk about this?” Fiona whines. “I’d much rather be plotting how I’m gonna bounce Chris and Ryan Hollywood’s heads around the arena like basketballs.”
“You can’t put it off forever.” Melinda pats her on the back gently. Fiona sighs out of frustration.
“Fine.” She shakes her head. “Honestly? I am not sure what I want to do. Every time I see him, hell, every time his name is mentioned, my body freezes up. I become that whimpering girl again that was afraid of him. So really I am honestly not sure what I will do if I happen to run into him again.”
“That’s why it’s best for you to make the next move.” Kurt points out. “That way you have the home field advantage and you have the advantage of knowing he’s coming. No surprises.”
“I’m just not sure I can trust him.”
“I understand where you are coming from, truly I do.” Melinda takes Fiona’s hand grips it tightly. “My mother was pregnant with me as a teenager and my father ran out on her when he found out. When he came back after I turned eighteen, when he tried to return to my life and form a relationship with me after he ran off on me and mother, I was furious. I did not want anything to do with him.”
“But you two worked it out…” Fiona’s voice trails off. Melinda nods her head.
“Yes, we did. I told you the story before but I repeat it again because it is proof positive that people can change. And perhaps Todd is trying to change? Maybe he does genuinely want to make things right between you and him?”
“His Miami residence,” Kurt begins “is it permanent?”
“No, it’s temporary.” Fiona remarks. “His permanent residence is still in Boston and as far as I know he is going to return once he has his definitive answer about where we stand.”
“Well in that case he definitely deserves an answer and closure, even if that answer is a definite no. Even if you tell him to stay out of your life forever, he deserves to hear it so that he can move on with his life.”
“And then you can move on with yours.” Melinda chimes in.
“Fine, you win, quit double teaming me.” Fiona sighs out of frustration. “I’ll meet him. I’ll contact him and arrange a meeting.”
“And you will give him the closure you both deserve?” Melinda asks.
“Yeah…he’ll get his answer…”
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Vlog 72
==========
Greetings my lovelies! Did you miss us? I know you did because, let’s face it, what meaning does your life have without me, The Third Generation Goddess, and my sister, my partner, my best friend The Boston Badass Fiona Loan, to do what The Vision does best and that is to lead the new generation of professional wrestling into the future?
Did you idiots really think that me and Mels were running away? Did you really think that we had stepped away from Supreme Championship Wrestling? We have fought fake tough guys and fake badasses all over the globe in promotions all over the world. We have won tag team championships every single promotion we have been in. We have endured the pressure of the bright lights. We have stepped up to everyone. Did we get punched in the mouth? Yeah. But did we punch them right back? Damn right we did. Mels and I back down from no challenge and if you thought we were gonna back down and step away from SCW you are a damn fool.
That is a brilliant point, Fiona. The Vision does not back down from a challenge. But do you know who should back down? You know who should quit while they are ahead?
Hollywood. Which brings me to the first set of HASHTAGS!
#ChrisLoser
#RyanLoser
#HollyLoser
You definitely remember us, right boys? And I do hope those memories are painful ones. We have beaten you before and what better way to make our grand return than by picking you apart, piece by piece, yet again.
We saw your pathetic social media; you want to try something new, just try. Some might hear that and feel all warm and fuzzy inside but me? I hear that it makes me sick. That’s not the outlook of a winner. A winner doesn’t just try. A winner WINS and me and Mels, we are winners, unlike the two of you. We know when to pick our spots whereas you two clowns just sit around and wait until some opportunity drops into your laps. Just like this one at Breakdown. It is a great opportunity that fell into your laps and you dweebs did nothing to deserve it. You have a hell of a chance to take down a premier tag team in me and Mels and finally get the idiot fans to talking about you again. And it all just fell into your lap. Me and Mels? We MAKE our opportunities. We TAKE our opportunities. We don’t need anything to just fall into our laps.
Ah but allow me to correct my dear sister on something. What you two boys have is not a true blue opportunity. You have what I call “the illusion of an opportunity.” Fate has put you in this position so that you will remain content and happy, so that you will not rebel against the status quo it has set up. The truth is, Hollywood, that Fate has set you up for failure against The Vision in the form of a so-called opportunity. But it is by no means an opportunity. Not for you, at least. Fate has gifted the REAL opportunity to myself and Fiona, an opportunity to remind SCW what we are capable of.
Great, there’s that fate talk again. Can’t we just beat the crap out of ‘em Mels and ignore the fate stuff?
No worries, Fiona. We will have plenty of time for that. Right, Chris? Right Ryan? That is what you can expect come Breakdown.
#AcceptYourFate
#TheVisionIsBack
#YourFateIsSealed
![[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 Underground 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 Underground 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)