“The One” Kirsten Scott vs. Chris Lawler

[Konrad Raab]

2 RP limit for singles

3500 word max per RP

Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET THURSDAY, April 25, 2024 ET

[TheOne]

{PROMO}

After Taking the Leap, many have vacated the backstage area, leaving just the cleanup crew to begin preparing the venue for its next hosted event.  One locker room, however, that is not done being used is that of Kirsten Scott, who, since losing to Selena Frost, has done nothing but walk into that room, sit down in a metal folding chair, and even with the advising of Hailey and Emma, has not moved or spoken.  She's simply clasped her hands in front of her, and looked directly at the ground.  A sense of anger, a sense of failure, a sense of any negative emotion you can bring, fills her soul.  Emma and Hailey elect to leave Kirsten alone and simply stand around outside her door, awaiting her to exit, and deciding it is best to just follow her, and keep the words to a minimum.

A cameraperson, however, is inside, and Kirsten knows this.  It films her as her body position simply does not change.  She's a statue in a situation that is difficult to process, and simply continues to focus on her, hoping eventually, the silence is broken.

It was there...

It was right... There...

I could feel it...

I could taste it...

All of the work, all of the effort, everything I had put into this had finally come to a moment where I had EARNED something, again, in my life, and wasn't just handed it because of luck, and next thing I know, it's fucking gone again.  It's gone.  It's not there.  I EARNED a World Title shot that I KNEW, and everyone else knew, I could pull out the win in.  I EARNED an opportunity to prove myself as a viable leader in this organization.  I didn't steal it, like people do.  I didn't demand it, like people do.  I EARNED it.  And then what did I do?

Nothing...

Not a damn thing...

I didn't come up short.  I didn't make a mistake that cost it for me.  I just did nothing, and let Selena Frost walk away with something that she is LUCKY to have in her possession, and deep down, she knows it.  She knows that she initially missed the mark with me.  She knows she had to dig to a place she hasn't with ANY, OTHER, OPPONENT, in order to beat me, and she did it.  So I can't say, I came up just a little be short.  I can't say I did anything but one thing...

I fucking failed...

And I did so on the biggest stage of my life, and for that I sit here and simply say that, it's gone.  My opportunity, it's gone.  Yeah, it may sound fatalistic, but answer me this, am I guaranteed another World Title match, ever?  Am I guaranteed another chance to take out the Frosts in a way that proves the new generation is superior?  For fuck's sake, am I guaranteed ANYTHING in SCW, going forward?

The answer is no...

I'm guaranteed jack shit...

So I failed.  I fucked up.  I let the Frosts get their way, and I'm not going to make the excuses that are out there, and I'm not going to give into the "reasons" people have tried to tell me and justify why I came up short.  Why?  Because they're all fucking crap!  Each and every one of them.  They're all excuses for saying Selena Frost is better.  They're all reasons to say she is superior to Kirsten Scott.  So I fucking don't want to hear them.  I don't want to even entertain them because they're just that... Crap.  They're YOUR reasons.  They aren't mine.  They aren't my crew's.  They're YOURS.  And like assholes, we all have our opinions and they all smell like dogshit, I don't care how much you believe in them, I don't, and I simply look at it in my own way... I failed.  I didn't remove all doubt.  I was the defense, and she was the prosecution, and guess what, my legal team, my words, my actions, MY EVERYTHING didn't cause those who defend her ass to even give me a modicum of credit.  It was always Selena.  It was ALWAYS the defending champion, because it just ALWAYS is...

And so I'm guaranteed nothing going forward...

I'm stuck in a state of limbo that others would look at and doubt everything about themselves...

And yeah, that doubt is creeping in, but ONLY because it's one, single, family... And not because it's that I can't beat them...

And I'm not OK with that... I'm not OK with doubt.  I am not OK with not believing I can overcome ANYONE, and that includes a family who seemingly has my number each and every time.  Because all it takes is once.  All it takes is A MOMENT in time for the script to flip and those who always seemed to be the dominant force to be the once scrambling trying to reclaim it.  But the problem is... Getting to them, having that moment, again, it's not a guarantee.  Nobody in the brass is sitting there thinking, "I guarantee Kirsten Scott and the Frosts will cross paths again," because they have the bigger picture to think about, and let's be real... Now... In their eyes... I'm not a big player.  I didn't come up with the big win.  I didn't upset the unflappable champion, but instead succumbed just like others who have tried before me, and had much bigger resumes to argue their case on.

So like I said... I'm not guaranteed a thing...

Instead I'm put in a position where I have to do everything thrown in front of me, big or small, and overcome it.  I have to achieve a level of greatness that actually makes those people in suits look at me again and say, "eh, let's give her another chance for shits and giggles," because to them, that's ALL I would be.  Is another moment where they could put some fearless underdog in a match where they don't believe there's a snowballs chance in hell that they'd survive.

The intensity in her voice subsides a bit.

But I also acknowledge I'm not alone there... I also acknowledge many feel the same.  We are all facing the same demon in these undefeatable enemeies who we enter into battle with, and we all have this desire, this WANT, to be the one to knock them off their horse.  And this is where I have to change my perspective on things, and accept that nothing is given, but instead, EVERYTHING IS FUCKING EARNED!

Because what I sit here and think about, yes, is Taking Hold of the Flame.  I think about the debut of "The One."  I think about the two years I've made it through a gauntlet and almost begun to ascend to grab the ultimate juggernaut of a brass ring.  And yes, that's something on my horizon for the third time.  Am I guaranteed anything out of it, no.  Like I said, I'm guaranteed nothing.  But WINNING, but grabbing the juggernaut ring, THEN you ARE once again guaranteed something.  And I get that it's the most far fetched idea in SCW because only a handful of people have actually WON it.  It's the ultimate challenge of who can outsmart the rest.  And yes, I've come close, but I haven't won yet.  I haven't been down to that final pairing where the odds go from one in however many are allowed in, to one in two.  But I've come close.  I know the STENCH.  And two years in a row, that stench has entered my nose, so I know there is a chance of a guarantee once again.  And if I come up short...

I'm fucked... What can I say...

So I have to look past what people tell me about the Frosts.  I have to look past the fact that I SHOULD have won, but fate decided otherwise.  I have to look to momentum because it is something that can and DOES carry into that battle royal.  It is something that people lean on as heavily as a drunk on a traffic light post at 4AM.  It DEFINES whether or not you are a contender, or a mere number in the entry and exit tallies come the next day.  So I can't sit here and kill myself, blame others, claim I was robbed, any of that, I have to do what I have done in SCW since the fucking day I came into it, and it's one...

She jumps up, slams the chair shut and throws it against the lockers, making a loud enough sound that Emma and Hailey come darting in to check on her.  They quickly see what's going on, and slowly exit, closing the door quietly, not to change Kirsten's mentality.

... GODDAMN, MOTHERFUCKING, THING, NOBODY ELSE HAS THE FUCKING NUTS TO DO, AND THAT'S SHOW UP, OR STEP TO THE FUCKING SIDE!

So YOU want to take away my guarantee, I'll simply make another.  I'll simply take it a step further.  I'll simply MAKE YOU BELIEVE in someone who is greener than pure Jade in the belly of a Buddha, and make you HAVE to give me what I want.  I'm not going to threaten by hook or by crook, because you've all heard that.  It's cliche.  It's what you expect.  No, I'm going to guarantee it by hurting people, once again.  It's what made "The One" notorious, from the start.  She hurt people.  She physically destroyed people, and THAT included the Frosts, who you want to protect at all costs.  Ask Deanna.  Ask her what happened when Kirsten Scott got ahold of her.  Ask her how much PAIN she felt.  Ask her how much it SUCKED having to have those bones aligned, and then slowly healed.  She will tell you the TRUTH of what it is like to cross me...

And that is going to extend to EVERYONE, and I emphasize EVERYONE, going forward...

You see, plans are in the works for something big... Something bigger than SCW... Something that will bring this business to its knees as it realizes there are those who are willing to fight for something BIGGER and BETTER than it has ever seen... But it will begin at Breakdown...

And it will begin with one of SCW's legends, who have magically reappeared to save it from a hostile takeover, in Chris Lawler...

For the first time Kirsten faces the camera, with a look on her face riddled with anger and determination.

Chris Lawler, you're a name synonymous with the old days of SCW, and magically you've returned to its history books in a modern era that I question whether or not you truly belong in.  Because, to be blunt, things have changed.  This isn't the "old days," where Chris Lawler could skate by and pull off an upset or two.  This is now, something I like to call, REAL LIFE.  This is where the rubber meets the road, and this is where you're effectively putting your entire career, your entire legacy, everything you've accomplished on the line just to do what?  Remind people that you once wrestled here?  Remind people that you were once a pestilence upon the land?  I know your history and I know you amounted to as much as that of a turd in a punchbowl, but that doesn't mean you couldn't have improved since.  That doesn't mean "Modern Day" Chris Lawler is someone different.  But the fact of the matter is, IT DOES NOT FUCKING MATTER IF YOU'RE BETTER.  I'm tired of people coming back, thinking they're some "evolution" of themselves, instead of realizing their peak was far beyond the year we are into...

And that is going to be the case with you, Chris...

I'm coming off of something that has me more pissed off than being underneath a horse with incontinence...

I'm coming off of something that you have never felt the negativity of, at least in SCW...

But here you are, in my path, before Taking Hold of the Flame, before Rise to Greatness, before everything that COULD and WOULD give me the one thing that I say is not there for me, and it's a guarantee, and you're who?  You're one of the past.  You're one of the legacy of SCW.  You're one of those people trying to define the future based on what YOU may or may not have done in the past, and I'm sorry, you son of a bitch, you're not going to ride your trusty steed into Breakdown and not end up being the one tilted 180 degrees and ultimately becoming the one who just isn't pissed off, but also pissed on.  Because that is where I am sending you...

This card, this Breakdown, this moment, this shows where everyone is out for the moment to try and save SCW from actually growing the fuck up, and I am going to be one of the LEGEND KILLERS to end it before it EVER starts.  I thought my match with Justin Davis at Fatal Fortunes would signal to the rest of the "oldies but goodies" to stay away," but I guess I was wrong.  Here comes Sean Prime, as well, along with Chris Lawler to start trying to resurrect an era that is one thing, and one thing only...

IT'S DEAD!

And if it takes someone to be the "bad guy" in the eyes of others, simply to show the truth that time moves FORWARD and not BACKWARD, in the eyes of the fans, I'll do it.  Because in the end, I'm out for one thing... I'm out for my redemption.  I'm out for my guarantee.  I'm out for my moment where Selena Frost isn't given some hall pass to a win because people think she's just "that much better," when she isn't, never was, and never will be.  She's mid.  She's average.  And I was suckered into believing the hype, and now it's my time to, not just END THE HYPE, but END THE FROSTS, one and for all.  And while it may not begin with them, and begin with Chris Lawler, it will END with them, and if someone else doesn't beat me to it...

I GUARANTEE I WILL DO IT AT RISE TO GREATNESS!

Kirsten shoves her hand into the lens of the camera, pushing the camera man back, and forcing the scene to go to black.

[Chris Lawler]

Weight of the World

“Chris… This is getting ridiculous, we have bills to pay!”  These words reverberated through the Lawler household, just six months before Lawler officially retired from SCW.  Wrestling was the only thing that Lawler had known his entire life, what else was he supposed to do?  

“Baby, I realize there’s bills to pay, I see them all the time.  
But I'm doing everything I can to make ends meet," Lawler replied, his tone strained with frustration. He sat across from his wife at the kitchen table, the weight of their financial struggles pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket.

His wife sighed, her expression worn with worry. "I know you're trying, Chris, but it's not enough. We're drowning in debt, and I don't see a way out."

Lawler's jaw tightened as he fought to suppress the rising tide of anger and helplessness threatening to consume him. Wrestling had always been his passion, his calling, but now it felt like a burden dragging him down into the depths of despair.

"What do you want me to do, Sarah?" he demanded, his voice tinged with desperation. "Quit wrestling and get a regular job? Is that what you want?"

Sarah shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "No, of course not. I know how much wrestling means to you, but we can't keep living like this. We need to think about our future, about our kids."

The mention of their children struck a nerve with Lawler, reminding him of the heavy responsibility weighing on his shoulders. He had always dreamed of providing a better life for his family, but now it felt like he was failing them at every turn.

Guilt gnawed at his insides as he struggled to find a solution to their financial woes. Wrestling had been his ticket to success, his ticket to a better life, but now it seemed like nothing more than a dead end.

As the echoes of their argument faded into the silence of the empty house, Lawler felt a sinking sense of defeat wash over him. Wrestling had been his life, his passion, his purpose—but now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers, leaving him with nothing but regrets and shattered dreams.

Six months had passed since Chris Lawler hung up his wrestling boots for good, but the glow of retirement had long since faded, replaced by the harsh reality of his new life. Despite his best efforts, Lawler had been unable to find steady employment, leaving the family's financial situation teetering on the edge of disaster.

The walls of their small apartment felt like they were closing in on Lawler, suffocating him with their oppressive presence. Every unpaid bill that arrived in the mail was a fresh reminder of his failure, a dagger to his already wounded pride.

With each passing day, the weight of his responsibilities grew heavier, pressing down on him with relentless force. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of debt and despair, struggling to keep his head above water as the waves of uncertainty crashed over him.

His wife's once hopeful gaze had been replaced by a look of resignation, her eyes haunted by the specter of their mounting financial troubles. The strain of their situation weighed heavily on their relationship, casting a shadow over even the simplest moments of intimacy and connection.

And as the days turned into weeks, Lawler found himself sinking deeper into despair, his sense of hope slipping away like sand through his fingers. The future seemed bleak and uncertain, with no light at the end of the tunnel to guide him through the darkness.

Despite his best efforts to stay positive, Lawler couldn't shake the feeling that he was failing his family, that he was letting them down in the worst possible way. The burden of his failure weighed heavily on his shoulders, threatening to crush him beneath its unbearable weight.

As he sat alone in the dimly lit apartment, the silence of the night closing in around him, Lawler couldn't help but wonder if things would ever get better. The future stretched out before him like an endless expanse of darkness, with no sign of relief in sight. And in that moment, he felt more lost and alone than ever before.

In the dimly lit living room of their cramped apartment, Chris Lawler sat across from his wife, Sarah, the tension between them palpable in the air. The weight of their financial struggles hung heavy in the silence that stretched between them, each passing moment adding to the growing sense of desperation that filled the room.

"Chris... we need to talk," Sarah began, her voice tinged with frustration and worry. "I don't know how much longer we can keep living like this. The bills keep piling up, and we're barely making ends meet as it is."

Lawler shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of his failure bearing down on him like a leaden weight. He knew that Sarah was right, that their situation was becoming increasingly dire with each passing day. But the thought of admitting defeat was almost too much to bear.

"I know, Sarah," Lawler replied, his voice heavy with guilt. "I've been trying to find work, but nothing seems to pan out. I feel like I'm letting you down, letting the kids down..."

His voice trailed off, unable to voice the depth of his despair. He had always prided himself on providing for his family, on being the rock that they could rely on in times of need. But now, faced with the harsh reality of their situation, he felt like a failure in every sense of the word.

Sarah reached out to touch his hand, her touch gentle yet filled with unspoken concern. "Chris, we'll get through this together," she said, her voice soft but determined. "But we need to be honest with ourselves about where we stand. We can't keep ignoring the elephant in the room."

Lawler nodded slowly, a knot of anxiety tightening in his chest. He knew that Sarah was right, that they couldn't continue to bury their heads in the sand and hope for the best. But the thought of facing their financial woes head-on filled him with a sense of dread unlike anything he had ever experienced.

As they sat in silence, the weight of their uncertainty pressing down on them like a suffocating blanket, Lawler couldn't help but wonder if they would ever find a way out of the darkness that threatened to consume them. And in that moment, he felt more helpless and alone than ever before.

In the dimly lit apartment, the suffocating silence hung heavy around Chris Lawler like a shroud. The weight of his despair bore down on him relentlessly, each passing moment stretching into eternity as he grappled with the overwhelming burden of his failures.

Alone in the darkness, Lawler felt as though he were drowning in a sea of hopelessness, the crushing weight of his anxiety pressing down on him from all sides. He hadn't showered in days, the grime and filth clinging to his skin like a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. And despite the gnawing ache of hunger in his belly, he hadn't eaten in two days, the thought of food nauseating in the face of his despair.

As he sat huddled on the threadbare couch, Lawler's mind was consumed by a relentless barrage of self-recrimination and doubt. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was failing his family, that he was a disappointment to everyone who had ever believed in him. The walls of the apartment seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with their oppressive presence.

In the midst of his despair, Lawler found himself unable to muster the strength to move, to break free from the grip of his depression and face the world outside. Every fiber of his being longed to retreat further into the darkness, to surrender to the oblivion that beckoned him with its seductive promise of escape.

As the hours stretched on, the dim light filtering through the curtains shifted imperceptibly, casting ever-changing shadows across the room. But for Chris Lawler, time seemed to stand still, frozen in a perpetual state of agony and despair.

His thoughts churned relentlessly, a never-ending cycle of self-recrimination and doubt that gnawed at his frayed psyche. Each passing moment brought with it a fresh wave of hopelessness, threatening to engulf him completely in its suffocating embrace.

In the stillness of the apartment, Lawler's breathing grew shallow and ragged, his chest constricted by the weight of his anxiety. Every fiber of his being screamed for release, for respite from the unrelenting torment that held him captive.

In the depths of his despair, Chris Lawler found himself caught in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Wrestling had been his lifeblood, his passion, his reason for being. But now that he was retired, adrift in a sea of uncertainty, he struggled to define his purpose, to find meaning in a world that suddenly seemed devoid of color and vitality.

As he sat alone in the dimly lit apartment, Lawler grappled with the weight of his newfound identity—or lack thereof. Wrestling had defined him for so long that he scarcely knew who he was without it. The thought of leaving behind the only world he had ever known filled him with a profound sense of loss and disorientation.

Yet, at the same time, a part of him yearned for a fresh start, for the opportunity to forge a new path and leave behind the shadows of his past. But with each passing day, the walls seemed to close in around him, suffocating him with their oppressive presence and leaving him paralyzed with indecision.

In the silence of the apartment, Lawler's mind buzzed with a relentless stream of questions, each one more daunting than the last. What was he supposed to do now? How was he supposed to provide for his family? And perhaps most troubling of all, who was he, if not the wrestler he had always been?

Caught between the past he couldn't let go of and the future he couldn't grasp, Lawler felt as though he were being pulled in a hundred different directions at once. The weight of his uncertainty bore down on him like a leaden blanket, leaving him feeling more lost and alone than ever before.

As the days stretched on, Chris Lawler found himself sinking deeper into the abyss of his own despair. The weight of his depression seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment, dragging him down into a pit of hopelessness from which he saw no escape.

Increasingly, Lawler found himself withdrawing from the world around him, retreating into the solitude of his own mind. The once vibrant and bustling household he shared with his family now felt eerily quiet and empty, the echoes of laughter and conversation replaced by a suffocating silence.

His interactions with his wife and children grew increasingly strained, his words tinged with bitterness and resentment. He could sense the hurt and confusion in their eyes, but he felt powerless to bridge the growing divide between them.

Guilt gnawed at him like a hungry beast, tearing away at his already fragile sense of self-worth. He knew he was failing his family, failing to live up to the expectations they had for him. But try as he might, he couldn't seem to shake himself free from the grip of his depression long enough to make things right.

In the darkness of his own mind, Lawler felt himself slipping further and further away from the people he loved most. It was as though he were watching his life unravel from a distance, powerless to intervene as the threads of his family's happiness unraveled before his eyes.

With each passing day, the distance between them grew, until it felt as though they were strangers occupying the same space rather than a family bound by love and affection. And though part of him longed to reach out and bridge the gap, another part of him recoiled from the thought, paralyzed by the fear of rejection and failure.

Alone in the silence of his own despair, Chris Lawler grappled with the crushing weight of his depression, unsure if he would ever find his way back to the light.

As Chris Lawler stood in the lit gym, the weight of his past burdens heavy on his shoulders, he found solace in the rhythmic clank of metal against metal. Each repetition of the weights served as a reminder of the strength he had lost along the way, but also as a beacon of hope for the future.

Gone was the suffocating silence of his empty home, replaced now by the steady hum of activity that filled the air of the training facility. The sounds of grunts and shouts, the clatter of equipment, and the distant echoes of conversation served as a comforting backdrop to his thoughts.

With each curl of the dumbbell, Lawler felt a renewed sense of purpose coursing through his veins. The familiar burn of exertion grounded him in the present moment, pushing back against the tide of his past regrets and uncertainties.

Though the scars of his past still lingered, etched into the fabric of his being, Lawler refused to be defined by them any longer. As he pushed himself to his limits in the gym, he felt a glimmer of the old fire reigniting within him, a determination to reclaim his place in the spotlight.

With every bead of sweat that rolled down his brow, Lawler shed the weight of his past failures, forging ahead with renewed vigor and determination. And as he looked towards his upcoming match against "The One" Kirsten Scott, he knew that he was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in his ability to rise above the obstacles and emerge victorious once more.

In the quiet confines of the gym, Chris Lawler stands alone, the weight of his recent losses heavy on his shoulders. The fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the empty space as Lawler paces back and forth, his mind consumed by the upcoming match against Kirsten Scott.

"You ever have one of those days?" Lawler's voice breaks the silence, echoing off the walls of the gym. "Where nothing seems to go your way? Where every move you make just ends up leading to another dead end?"

He pauses, the frustration evident in his voice as he continues.
"That's how it's been for me lately. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I was ready to climb back into that ring and prove to the world that I still had what it takes. But Polly, Gavin...they showed me just how wrong I was."

Lawler clenches his fists, his jaw set with determination.
"I tried to extend a hand, to show some goodwill, and what did I get in return? Defeat. Humiliation. A harsh reminder that in this business, you're only as good as your last match."
He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him.

"But I'm not one to stay down for long. I've been knocked down before, and every time, I've gotten back up. And Kirsten Scott, you better believe I'm getting back up Thursday night."
Lawler's eyes narrow as he envisions his opponent standing before him.

"I may not have won my last match, but that doesn't mean I'm out of the game. It just means I've got something to prove. Thursday night, I'm coming for redemption. On Breakdown, I'm going to show the world that Chris Lawler is still a force to be reckoned with."


"Kirsten Scott," Lawler mutters, the name echoing in the gym. "Former champion or not, I've been in this business long enough to know that titles don't make the wrestler. It's heart, determination, and skill that count."

He pauses, wiping the sweat from his brow before continuing, "Sure, she's got a reputation. But so do I. I've fought tooth and nail for everything I've achieved in this ring. Kirsten may have held gold before, but that doesn't mean she's unbeatable. It just means she's got a target on her back, and I'm aiming to hit it."

With each word, Lawler's confidence grows, his determination to prove himself evident in every movement. "I've faced adversity before," he says, his voice tinged with defiance. "I've overcome obstacles that would break lesser men. Kirsten Scott may be tough, but she's not invincible. And on Breakdown, I'm going to show her and everyone else in SCW that Chris Lawler is still a force to be reckoned with."

As he finishes his workout, Lawler's gaze hardens with determination. "Kirsten Scott may have her sights set on victory," he says, his voice ringing with conviction. "But so do I. And when the dust settles in that ring Thursday night, there's only going to be one winner. And that's going to be me."

Lawler steps back from the weights, his muscles tensed and ready for action. "So Kirsten, you better be prepared. Because Thursday night, when you step into that ring with me, you're stepping into the lion's den. And I promise you this, I'm not going down without a fight. You may have been a champion once, but Thursday night, you're going up against a legend."

With a final nod of determination, Lawler exits the gym, his mind focused and his heart set on victory. As he makes his way to the arena, he knows that Thursday's match will be one for the history books. And when the final bell rings, there will be no doubt in anyone's mind who the true champion is.