Konrad Raab vs. Glory Braddock

[Konrad Raab]

2 RP Limit for singles

3500 Word Limit Per RP

Deadline: 11:59:59 PM ET Wednesday, September 3, 2025

[Braddock]

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August 30th, 2025
London, England
Off Camera
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Rise To Greatness was a great success for The British Bombshell. Glory Braddock had been feuding with Ryan LeCavalier for quite some time, a bitter feud over pride and other issues that, in Glory’s mind, should not have mattered. LeCavalier felt offended that Braddock dropped out of Taking Hold of the Flame. Braddock didn’t understand, she simply refused what could have been a quicker and easier path to a shot at the SCW World Championship and, instead, chose to take the longer, more difficult path of earning a title shot by winning match after match. Glory Braddock chose to bet on herself as opposed to betting on Taking Hold of the Flame. Braddock’s bet has thus far paid off with a very impressive six match winning streak that now includes a submission victory over LeCavalier herself. Granted Ryan never actually tapped out, she was choked out by The British Bombshell. Glory will take it. In fact, the fact that she choked her out, that she made the referee end the match for Ryan’s well being, makes the win all that match sweeter. It makes what Braddock has accomplished now with her six match winning streak even more impressive. Number seven is on the horizon and number seven will be another confrontation with a member of the European Fiery Nation; specifically its leader, Konrad Raab. Braddock and Raab have a history. They have done battle before and Braddock has beaten him before. She has no doubt she can beat him again.

Earning a shot at the SCW World Championship is Glory Braddock’s ultimate goal. She had boldly declared to the entire SCW universe that she could earn a shot at the world title without having to go through Taking Hold of the Flame. Now, with this winning streak, Braddock is so very close to achieving that goal, she is close to earning that title opportunity. Unfortunately her World Title aspirations will have to wait a little longer. Amelia Novado has already cashed in her Trios Contract for a SCW World Title Match against Cid Turner at Apocalypse. Braddock will have to continue fighting match after match, opponent after opponent, and try to continue her winning ways. A continued winning streak is the only way The British Bombshell can prove that she should be next in line after Apocalypse. Until then, Glory will have to shift her focus. Instead Glory will have to focus on two other matters important to her right now; first, continuing her winning ways so that she can make a good case for a title match, and secondly, reminding herself of who she really is and who she needs to be. That second bit may seem as if it is a bit of a philosophical problem and, maybe it is, but for The British Bombshell it is a very important puzzle to solve. Glory knows her past all too well, she remembers how things used to be when she first broke into the business; she was a tomboy who lived a very modest lifestyle. Yet the longer she spent in the business, the more success she achieved, the more luxurious her lifestyle became. Braddock fears that she may have lost an important part of who she is, she fears that she forgot who she needs to be.

Her gut instinct was to throw it all away; her company, the luxury all of it. Her husband, Kurt Logan, thought she was making a rash decision. Glory had put a great deal of time and effort, she sacrificed a great deal to build up her company and make it a success. Throwing it all away seemed insane. Braddock has thus decided that, before she makes any decisions on her future, she will return home, to her real home, and try to reconnect with her past. Maybe, just maybe, reconnecting with her past will help her find an answer as to what she should do next.

This is what brings Glory and her husband Kurt to London, England. The morning air in London was damp, carrying that faint smell of rain-soaked brick and asphalt that always seemed to linger, even on days when the sun threatened to break through the clouds. The narrow street was quiet, lined with rows of modest terraced houses whose red and brown façades had weathered decades of change. Among them sat the home that would now, for a time, belong to Glory Braddock and her husband, Kurt Logan. It was smaller than anything Glory had lived in for years, tucked neatly between two nearly identical houses, its paint faded, its garden overgrown in places. The pale curtains in the front window stirred gently with the draft, and the chipped iron gate creaked as she pushed it open. Glory had never set foot inside this house before, but she knew its history all too well; this was her mother’s refuge after leaving Glenn Braddock, a place where Mary Kurinsky had quietly lived out her final years in London before moving to the United States to be closer to her sister and her family in Massachusetts.

“So is this it?” Kurt asks, looking up at down at the simplistic styled home. Based on the look on his face he doesn’t seem all that impressed. Glory notices and chuckles.

“Yes, love, it is.” She smirks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. It’s just…different.”

“Different can be good.” She winks. “You will survive, won’t you? Living the good life hasn’t softened you, has it?”

“It softened me a little but not too much.” Kurt assures her. “I had to survive on the streets before being introduced to wrestling, if you recall.”

“I do remember. Jason Redfield, your mentor, took you in and trained you.”

“Right, so trust me, I will survive. But will you survive?”

“I will.” Glory nods her head. “I have to, I mean, this is about seeing if any of the old me, the old Glory Braddock that was far more grounded and compassionate than the snobbish twat I became exists.

“Right.”

“And don’t forget, I grew up here in London. Well, not HERE specifically…”

“Yeah, about that…” Kurt’s voice trails off briefly “...did you buy this place? Renting?”

“God no.” Glory shakes her head. “I wouldn’t go that far out of my way just for what amounts to a bit of an experiment to see if the old Glory Braddock still exists.”

“So whose home is this?” Kurt asks curiously. “I mean, I thought when you said we were coming here we would be staying in your dad’s old place. You know, where you grew up?”

“I had thought of it, initially.” She admits. “But Julia owns it now and she spruced it up big time. I mean, it went from being dad’s old modest apartment to being all but a palace.” Braddock shakes her head. “There’s no way I would reconnect with my past by staying there. It doesn’t feel like the place I grew up in anymore.”

“Fair enough.” Kurt says. “Let’s go in.”

She nods her head. Glory’s heels clicked against the narrow path as she approached the door, her reflection catching in the small, weathered glass pane. Kurt followed close behind, his broad shoulders filling the entryway as he maneuvered a pair of suitcases through the narrow frame. The American carried himself with the ease of someone who could make anywhere feel like home, though his sharp eyes took in every detail, weighing this unfamiliar world against the life of abundance they’d grown accustomed to in Miami. Dressed simply in a dark jacket and jeans, Kurt looked out of place against the muted brick and chipped paint, yet he smiled faintly, as if amused by the challenge of it all.

Inside, the house smelled faintly of dust and lavender, a mixture of neglect and memory. The sitting room was small, its floral wallpaper faded, the edges peeling in spots. A worn sofa sat under the front window, cushions slightly sunken with age, and the mantle above the fireplace still bore the faint stains of old picture frames long since removed. Glory ran her hand along the wall as she entered, fingertips brushing the faint ridges of the wallpaper. It wasn’t her home, not really, and yet the details felt close. The modesty of it, the simplicity, was a sharp contrast to the sprawling homes, the glass towers, the luxury she had wrapped herself in for so long. For the first time in years, she felt grounded.

“So if this isn’t your dad’s place…and you’re not renting…whose place is this?” Kurt asks curiously.

“My mum’s.” Glory answers. “After breaking up with my dad she did eventually go to the United States to be with her sister and her family, the Joneses, but before that she spent a few more years in London and this was where she stayed.”

“Your mom’s place, eh? They had a bit of a volatile relationship from what you told me.”

“It wasn’t always like that.” Glory shakes her head. “At first they loved each other, at least I thought they did.”

“What happened?” Kurt asks.

“The same thing you might expect from being in a relationship with a professional wrestler, or anyone crazy obsessed with their career, and my dad was definitely crazy obsessed with his career.”

“We never had that problem.” Kurt smirks.

“That’s because we are both professional wrestlers.” She sighs. “Well, you WERE before you retired. Point is, you get it, you understand the business. Dad and mum, they never truly understood one another and my mum never understood my dad’s obsession with professional wrestling.”

“Yet they managed to stay together for so long.” Kurt points out. “They didn’t split until you were sixteen.”

“That’s right.” She nods her head. “Mum hated the idea of dad putting his body on the line week in and week out in the squared circle but he kept winning, he was happy, and he never got hurt, so she kept her mouth shut. But as you well know, not suffering an injury, sometimes that can be just pure luck. Dad had some awful good luck until it ran out.” She sighs. “He suffered a severe back injury that ended his career.”

“Right, because that was when he opened his wrestling school.” Kurt states. Glory nods her head.

“Yeah.” She remarks. “He refused to give up the wrestling business. If he couldn’t wrestle, he would train. That alone pissed off mum because she wanted him to stop it altogether. What broke the camel’s back was when I was inspired by my dad’s refusal to give in…” her voice trails off. Kurt can sense where this is going.

“You followed in his footsteps.”

“She just saw her husband get injured permanently. She didn’t want to see me one day get hurt like that too.” She shakes her head. “The arguments were horrible. Absolutely horrible. And ultimately they went their separate ways. Dad, being as popular and influential as he is, got full custody of me. Mom, meanwhile, stayed here for several years.”

“Interesting.” Kurt remarks. “Wait…your mom, Angelica’s aunt…does she know this place exists?”

“Of course she does.” Braddock snickers. “I wouldn’t keep this a secret, now would I?”

“I would hope not.” Kurt sighs as he sits down on an old, raggedy looking sofa. The British Bombshell sits down next to him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and she gently snuggles up next to him. Yes, this will certainly take some getting used to, but it is already beginning to feel like home for The British Bombshell.

“Thanks for agreeing to come with me, love.” She whispers quietly. “It’s been so long and I…I know it will be difficult for me…your presence means a lot.”

“I would do anything for you.” Kurt kisses her on the lips. “Although…”

“Yeah?”

“I have to admit, I don’t fully comprehend the purpose behind this experiment of yours.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I mean, we have money, we are wealthy. We don’t need to be here.”

“That’s just the point, love.” Glory responds. “I need to remind myself of who I really am.”

“You are a wonderful woman with a good, caring heart.” Kurt answers quickly. “That’s who you are.”

“You are biased.” Glory answers back sharply. “Look at what I have done recently in SCW…”

“You mean your incredible six match winning streak? Betting on yourself that you could earn a title match without having to win Taking Hold of the Flame?”

“Sure, one could see it that way, and maybe part of it was me being stubborn, but one could argue it was entitlement. And I wasn’t really talking about that winning streak, Kurt. I was referring to the verbal wars I kept getting into with CHBK.”

“Oh that…” his voice trails off. Glory nods her head.

“Yes, THAT! I never should have engaged him like that.”

“Even if he was wrong?”

“Yes, even if he was wrong I shouldn’t have engaged him like that. Dad taught me to handle business inside the ring. I am a wrestler, not a backstage politician; that’s what he would tell me. But the more successful I got, the more I forgot those lessons. The more spotlight I got, the less and less I recognized the person I saw in the mirror. I became an entitled brat, Kurt. This isn’t just about the money, the wealth, and the luxury. This is about my personality and attitude.” Tears form in her eyes. “I am not the same Glory Braddoch my father raised. I honestly do not know who I am anymore.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Glory asks. “As my daughter if I am wrong. Ask Melinda. I am pushing her away, Kurt! She can’t stand to be around me!”

“She loves you.” Kurt insists. “She’s just having her own problems right now.”

“No, her problem is that she is ashamed of me and who I have become.” Glory sighs. “And honestly? I do not really blame her. I am ashamed of who I have become.”

The British Bombshell gets up from the sofa and walks away. Kurt instantly gets up as well and follows her, knowing that right now she needs comfort and his presence, his care. He follows her to a nearby window where she is staring outside, staring off into the distance, as if she is trying to forget everything by gazing out at the English city view. Kurt wraps his arms around her and instantly can sense the tension. He runs his hand through her long blonde hair.

“Melinda loves you. She really does.”

“But for how much longer?” Glory asks. “I have changed a great deal since coming into money. I have changed a great deal since the success and the luxury. I need to figure this out, Kurt, or I won’t just lose touch with my fans, or my peers. I’ll lose my daughter.”

“Look at me.” Kurt turns Glory towards him. They lock eyes. “You won’t lose your daughter. You won’t lose anything. You are a fighter, Glory. You have won tougher battles than this one.”

“How many chances will I get though?” She asks. “I have tried before to rediscover who I once was, to reclaim my old identity, and it never fails that I always fall back into the bad habits once I return to life of luxury.” She shakes her head. “Maybe this was a mistake? Maybe I should just get rid of the company and…everything…”

“No, making a rash decision like that would be a mistake.” Kurt states instantly, decisively. “Sure, you made some mistakes, but we all make mistakes. Throwing everything you’ve earned, you’ve built, isn’t going to solve any problems.”

“So what then?” Glory asks as she wipes tears from her eyes.

“So we stay here, as long as you need, so you can figure things out. Whatever it is you need to figure out, you figure it out and I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

“And when I do figure it out…” Glory’s voice is low and quiet, almost filled with dread as she isn’t sure how her husband will react to what she is about to say next “...if I decide I DO need to get rid of the company, get rid of the luxury, get rid of all of it. If I decide that I need to live like this to keep myself forever grounded so I won’t fall back into those bad habits…”

“Then I will stick by you no matter what.” Kurt answers. Glory smiles warmly.

“Really?”

“Of course.” He winks. “I mean, I don’t know about you, babe, but I meant it when I took those vows about ‘in sickness and in health, blah blah blah…”

“Good.” Braddock kisses him on his lips. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear.”

The British Bombshell is happier, calmer now that she knows that she has the unyielding support of her husband. She knows that this will not be an easy journey but it is a journey she must embark on, one she must complete. At least she will be in a place of comfort, her native home of London, England. These are her old stomping grounds. She will feel at ease here and, on top of that, she will have full access at all days and hours to her father’s wrestling school. Glory knows that more impressive wins, a continuation of her winning streak, will be important if she wants to make a case to get a future world title shot. Next on her list is Konrad Raab. He will be opponent number seven and, if she has her way, he will be victim number seven in her path of destruction that began when she first dropped out of Taking Hold of the Flame and bet on herself. Braddock bet on herself that she could earn a title match the old fashioned way and she intends to make Konrad out to be yet another example of why she should get that title match.

[Braddock]

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August 31st, 2025
London, England
Off Camera
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It’s been twenty-four hours since Glory Braddock and her husband, Kurt Logan, moved back into her old home neighborhood of London, England. The plan is to stay temporarily, until Braddock can find what she came here to find. The British Bombshell wants to rediscover her old persona, a side of herself that she fears is long gone. Braddock is convinced that the only way to potentially rediscover that old persona is to return to her roots, return to the lifestyle she grew up with, and the neighborhood she grew up in. Flooding herself with the memories and landmarks of her youth might be the one way The British Bombshell can find herself.

The streets of South London carried with them a certain heaviness that Glory Braddock had not felt in years. The terraced houses stood shoulder to shoulder, their brick faces worn and weather-stained, patched here and there with mismatched repairs that told stories of hard times and stubborn resilience. Narrow pavements ran along either side of the road, cracked in places, weeds pushing through. The air was cool, tinged with the smell of exhaust from passing cars and the faint trace of fried food drifting from a corner shop. It wasn’t glamorous, it wasn’t polished, but it was home; Glory’s former home. This was the neighborhood she grew up in. Glory walked with measured steps, her heels tapping against the pavement in a rhythm that felt almost too sharp for these familiar streets. She was dressed in a simple coat over simple denim form fitting jeans, her blonde hair neatly tied back, yet there was something in her stride that revealed both pride and unease. Years of life in America dealing with the spotlight of being a successful professional wrestler, the corporate boardrooms during her entry into the cutthroat businessworld, international flights, all toughened her exterior, but here, surrounded by the echoes of her childhood, that polish felt out of place. Every corner carried a memory, even if the faces had changed.

Beside her, Kurt Logan cut a different figure. Broad-shouldered and tall, with the unmistakable bearing of a grizzled retired professional wrestler himself, he looked like he belonged more in a sports arena than these working-class streets. His dark jacket and jeans were casual enough, but there was no hiding the confidence in his posture, the steady way his eyes moved over the surroundings. Unlike Glory, he had no history here. He was an outsider, and yet he walked close to her, protective without being overbearing, absorbing her past through the landscape she showed him.

“You seem a little distant.” Kurt points out, finally breaking the silence after what seemed like ages.

“I might be a little distracted.” Glory admits with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Figured.” Kurt nods his head. “Careful, though. I know you’ve beaten him before, but your next opponent is Konrad Raab, he is big, he is dangerous, and he can be a real threat if you overlook him.”

“I would never overlook anyone.” Braddock remarks definitely, shaking her head. “If anything, I am more determined than ever heading into Breakdown. I have won six straight matches. I admit I was disappointed hearing that Amelia was cashing in her Trios for a shot at the SCW World Title, meaning I have to wait at least until after Apocalypse, but I am seeing this as just another opportunity to prove myself. The more matches I win, the more opponents I put down, the stronger my case for a SCW World Title Match becomes.” Glory smirks. “No one will deny me.”

“You were gutsy to drop out of Taking Hold of the Flame, knowing the backlash you would receive.” Kurt kisses her on her forehead. “But you have so far proven the critics wrong and I have no doubt you will beat Raab.”

“Thanks, love.”

“So why are you distracted then?” Kurt asks curiously. “If you’re so confident, what’s gotten in your head?”

“Its just all of this…” she waves her arms as she and Kurt continue to walk down the streets of her old neighborhood “...so many memories…”

And they continue their march. The neighborhood had aged. The corner store where kids once crowded for sweets now had barred windows and a fading sign. The small park across the street, where Glory had learned to ride her first bike, was still there, though the swings squeaked with rust and the grass grew uneven. A row of shuttered shops hinted at decline, while just beyond them, new cafés and flats signaled the creeping push of gentrification. It was a strange mix of what had been and what was becoming, and Glory felt caught between both. They moved past a familiar pub with hanging flower baskets spilling tired blooms, the scent of stale ale and cigarette smoke drifting from the doorway. Glory slowed for a moment, her hand brushing against the brick wall, as if touching the past could anchor her. Kurt noticed, his pace easing to match hers, though he didn’t press her with words. The sound of a passing bus roared by, shaking the ground beneath their feet before fading into the distance. For a moment, the only sound was the echo of their footsteps, two figures walking through streets that had shaped one of them and now opened themselves to the other.

“What’s wrong?” Kurt asks.

“These shops…all from my childhood, some are closed up and shuttered, some still open and going strong. That pub over there,” she smirks “me and my friends used to raise hell over there during my teenage years.”

“I can imagine.” Kurt chuckles. “You used to be quite the prankser.”

“Just being here around these places, these landmarks of my childhood, already its making me feel like the old me, the person I’m trying to recapture.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Kurt asks with a raised eyebrow. “That was the whole purpose of our vacation?”

“Yes, it is, but…” she sighs “...I am worried that this is just temporary. Once we leave to return to the United States, to return to Miami, I’ll regress.”

“I think you’re worrying yourself over nothing.” Kurt says as he places his hands on her shoulders. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; you have overcome greater obstacles and beaten tougher challenges than this in your life and career. You can beat this, Glory. You can do this. But…”

“But?”

“...you are a beautiful, kind, and compassionate woman as you are. If you think you need to change, you are crazy, because I love you as you are.”

As Glory and Kurt passed the rusted gates of a small park, their attention was drawn to a commotion near the swings where a group of teenagers had surrounded a smaller boy. The boy’s backpack lay tossed in the dirt, its contents scattered, while the others jeered, shoving him back and forth with careless cruelty. One of the bigger, larger kids snatched the boy’s cap and dangled it just out of reach, laughing as the others egged him on. The sharp, mocking voices carried easily in the stillness of the late afternoon, cutting through the hum of traffic. Glory’s jaw tightened as she slowed her pace, her eyes narrowing on the scene, while Kurt’s broad frame stiffened beside her, his instinctive protectiveness flashing across his face even before they exchanged a glance.

“Uh, babe?” Kurt whispers, sensing an anger rising up within his wife.

“Sorry, love, but I can’t stand here and watch this.”

“Wait…” Kurt says, unfortunately Glory doesn’t listen. She marches her way over to the group of teens with Kurt sighing out of frustration following her closely behind. The British Bombshell’s eyes are fired up, she is intense, almost as if this were one of her wrestling matches. Except she isn’t fueled by the desire to win. She is fueled by a desire to fight for what she feels is right. This feeling is very familiar to Braddock. This is who she used to be; this is much more like the Glory of old. Kurt can sense it, he can see it as she approaches the crowd of teenagers. He stands back and folds his arms over his chest and watches her.

“What’s going on here?” There is a sharpness and anger in Glory’s voice. “Is this the losers club collective? I mean, I see a bunch of fools with absolutely no self-esteem picking on some kid just to feel better about themselves.”

The bullying teens do not react to Braddock’s burst of righteous indignation. Instead they instantly disperse, running off in all different directions to get away from The British Bombshell, leaving only the one kid, the bullied child, behind. Glory just sighs and shakes her head.

“You lot are a disappointment.”

“Disappointment?” Kurt chuckles as he approaches. “What exactly did you want them to do?”

“I don’t know.” Glory shrugs her shoulders.

“Hey, you stopped them without having to break a sweat. I’d call that a win.” He winks.

“Fair enough.”

Kurt embraces Glory with a hug. Then he notices that the kid is still there, watching on, creating a bit of an awkward scene. Glory and Kurt break their embrace and they turn to face the child.

“Are you ok, mate?” Glory asks.

“Not really.” He sighs. “But I’ll be fine. Thanks for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m not one to sit idly by while bullies try to throw their weight around.” Glory remarks. She extends her hand. “My name is Glory Braddock.”

“Wait a sec…” the kid’s voice trails off as his eyes grow wide “...Braddock?” His awe is noticeable. Glory chuckles and nods her head.

“So you’ve heard of me?”

Who hasn’t heard of you?” He says excitedly. “Your family is legendary! Glenn Braddock’s wrestling school is a favorite hangout.”

“You really are a fan, then?” Glory smirks. “Tell you what, obviously with what we just saw go down here it wouldn’t hurt to learn a few defensive moves. Would you like me to teach you how to defend yourself?”

“I’d love to!” The boy says excitedly. “But…” he sighs “...I wouldn’t be able to pay you anything. I’m…homeless…”

This adds a whole new layer to the situation. But Glory doesn’t flinch, not one bit. She shakes her head.

“It doesn’t matter, mate. We’ll work something out.” Glory she shakes his hand again. The boy is grinning from ear to ear; he is obviously starstruck at seeing a celebrity like The British Bombshell.

“That would be great…my name is John.”

“Nice to meet you, John.”

Braddock watches the boy, John, walk off. What started out as a nightmare for him, being bullied by those kids, turned into a bright and shining moment for him because he got to meet a celebrity, a hero in London. Glory Braddock feels proud that she could play her part in giving this kid, a homeless kid, something to be happy about. Kurt wraps his arm around her shoulder which snaps her out of her trance.

“Did that make you feel good?”

“It made me feel tremendous.” Glory answers. “This is exactly what I am talking about, love, this is what the old me would do. Is chasing championships important? Of course. Is winning important? Yes. But sometimes there are things far more important than winning and this right there, helping a kid like that, that’s one of them.”

“It runs in the family.” Kurt winks.

“Right. Dear old dad had a reputation in England for helping people just like that kid. He took in Sophie and Mark O’Brian when they were about his age, maybe older, and trained him. What few know is that dad would often ignore the fee to train people to wrestle if they had financial troubles. Dad had his flaws, for sure, but I think in all, his positives outweigh the negatives.”

“I get the sense that you want to be more like your dad, then?”

“Why not?” Glory asks. “I spent years trying to run away from my dad’s legacy when all I could see were his flaws. It’s time I focus on what really made him a great man, what made him a good person, and try to be more like that.” She nods herr head. “That is what Glory Braddock is all about.”

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September 3rd, 2025
Philadelphia, PA
On Camera
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The camera begins to roll and immediately we spot none other than “The British Bombshell” Glory Braddock, who stands confidently in the heart of Philadelphia. Her blonde hair, golden and sun-kissed, falls neatly around her shoulders, catching the afternoon light that filters down between the tall buildings. Her face is calm yet radiant, with soft but determined features, a faint smile resting on her lips as if she’s fully at ease in the bustling city around her. She wears a rich purple crew-neck t-shirt tucked neatly into fitted dark blue jeans, the color adding a vibrant pop against the more muted tones of the city street. Over her shirt, she sports a casual dark gray overshirt, unbuttoned, with the sleeves rolled down. The jeans fit snugly, emphasizing her athletic build while maintaining a practical, everyday appearance. Her hands rest casually at her waist. Behind her, Philadelphia hums with life; cars line the street, their metallic bodies catching the afternoon sun, while the domed architecture of a historic building rises proudly in the background, a reminder of the city’s storied past. The autumn air carries a clarity, the sunlight crisp against the brick-lined streets, adding warmth to the scene.

“April.” This is the one word that comes out of the mouth of The British Bombshell and she lets it hang there in the air for a few moments before saying anything else, all to let the viewers think about its deeper meaning. “April, at SCW Rebirth, was the last time I ever lost a match. Ever since then I have been motivated like never before. Ever since Rebirth I have been on a tear, going through each and every opponent SCW puts in front of me. It didn’t matter who the opponent was, it didn’t matter how far up or down the card I was on, I never complained once. I went out there week in and week out ever since Rebirth and took on all comers, I took on anyone willing to step up to The British Bombshell and I have put all of them down.” A smirk forms across. “That includes the newest incarnation of The Fall of Man…Waylon and Ryan…I put them down too, with my most recent victory over Ryan’s arrogant ass coming on the show of shows, the grandest stage, at Rise To Greatness.”

“Rebirth truly is an appropriate name because it was the beginning of a rebirth for yours truly. I needed that loss, I needed that wake up call, and you know, despite the differences we have had, maybe I needed that figurative slap in the face from CHBK to help light a fire under my ass, to help me realize that something has been wrong with my game. That isn’t to say that my game was lacking. In one year’s time I achieved Supreme Champion status by capturing the SCW World Tag Team Titles and then later went on to become a two time Adrenaline Champion. The problem is that I was too content. I was satisfied with what I had when I knew I could achieve so much more if I tapped into that old school wrestling mindset that once defined my entire being, that defined my father, the man known as “Britain’s Best” Glenn Braddock and who passed his teachings onto me. Rebirth was when I realized that I forgot those lessons and I forgot who I really and truly am. So I dropped out of Taking Hold of the Flame.” She shakes her head.

“But it wasn’t about entitlement or ego. It was me wanting to do things the old school way. It was about me choosing to bet on myself and bet on my abilities that I could earn my way back into title contention by beating as many opponents SCW decides to throw at me. That is what wrestling is all about. And I have been justified and vindicated with my big gamble by betting on myself, because I have been unbeaten since April. I have not lost a match since Rebirth.” Glory Braddock points a finger at the camera. “Now Rise To Greatness has ended and I move onto my next opponent, a familiar foe named Konrad Raab.”

“How’s it going, Konrad? Black Ice, Burned in Blood, leader of the European Fiery folks, by any other name you are still that same old violent bloke I recall from our many combats, whether it be singles or tag, we have had this dance before. I respect what you can do and I respect what you are capable of. So know that I am not looking past you when Breakdown rolls into town tomorrow night here in Philadelphia. Quite the contrary, looking past someone as dangerous as you would be insane and while I admit to making a few questionable judgment calls in my day, I am not crazy enough to look past any opponent. I would never look past any opponent. And when I am in the position I am in, on a winning streak that I don’t just want to see continue, a winning streak that I absolutely NEED to see continue, then oh yes, I will be taking you and the threat that you pose very seriously, Raab.”

“See, Konrad, I bet on myself that I could earn a shot at the SCW World Championship by beating anyone and everyone put in front of me. Let SCW line them up and I’ll knock them all down. I haven’t lost since I chose to bet on myself and what I have accomplished so far has been impressive. I have beaten some top guys including one of your European pals, the supposedly unstoppable Waylon Creek, Ryan LeCavalier, and even the current number one contender to the SCW World Championship Amelia Nevado. I don’t think it’s arrogant for me to say that kind of a winning streak is impressive. But as impressive as it is, it all would be for nothing if I slip up even one time and lose. Which means you, Konrad, are just like the others I have took on and put down since April; an opponent, an obstacle that I absolutely MUST overcome if I hope to get to where I want to be.” Her intense stare turns into a smirk.

“There’s something else you have in common with them, Raab. Well, something you have in common with at least one of my former opponents, namely the most recent one from Rise To Greatness, Ryan LeCavalier. You know what that is, Raab? You’ve both been choked out by The British Bombshell. Do you remember, mate, because I do; it was Tabula Rasa 2019. You lost your damn mind, got disqualified, and tried to destroy anyone in your path, including the referee and yours truly. But not only did you completely and utterly fail in your attempt to destroy me that night…” the intense glare returns to her face “...I CHOKED YOU OUT!” Glory nods her head.

“So you should remember damn well what I am capable, Konrad. Out of all of our previous encounters, despite everything you’ve thrown at me, I have always been able to walk away; maybe not always unscathed but I have always been able to walk away. You, on the other hand, I have proven that I can put you down to the point that you cannot walk away, that you need to be carted out on a stretcher. So if that’s the kind of violence you want then that’s the kind of violence I am capable of bringing to the game. That’s what makes me one of the best, Raab; adaptability. Technical wrestling may be my strength but I can adapt to any fighting style my opponent decides to throw at me, its why I have been able to overcome the odds and win again and again and again since April. I have taken opponents with a diverse background of styles and strategies and abilities and I have beaten them all.” Braddock shakes her head. “You will be no different and if I have to choke you out again then so be it.” The British Bombshell shuts her eyes.

“Sic Semper Tyrannis.”

[Konrad Raab]

Offer to do racing in a one-off race in NASCAR Euro Series as an American European NASCAR driver in his home race in Germany, schedule possible conflicts between a wrestling PPV and a race in Germany and write about an egotistical, boring bitch Glory.