<img src=http://i67.tinypic.com/33w34ti.jpg>The air of New Orleans is fresh as Sam Marlowe steps out onto a balcony in the French Quarter with a tray of drinks and after setting it on the table, she stretches her body that is covered in a half tee and jogging pants with her feet bare and her hair pulled back and held with a small wire headband with a fascinator over her right ear. From behind her a feminine groan of pain can be heard. Sam turns back to see her friend Roberta step through the door, her fist rubbing at her eye and dressed in a pair of Minnie Mouse pyjamas.
“Remind me again why we do this to ourselves,” mutters Roberta as she spies a cup of coffee on the table in a drink tray from McDonalds. “I swear if my husband tells me next year that I am staying home, I am going to believe him,” she adds before bringing the cup to her lips and sipping at the warm drink before letting the cup lower slightly to a hum of enjoyment.
“We do this because it is a tradition from when we went to college here,” replies Sam. “We made a pact that each Mardi Gras would be spent here in the French Quarter and the three of us would be seeing who would be the one to get the most beads from the parades. For the first couple of years it was Edie because she had no filters and flashed everyone in college.”
“Hey, I was sure that it would work and it did…I never had to pay for dinner or anything else for that matter,” teased Edie who stepped out from behind Roberta with a couple of bags of food that she set beside the coffee. “Oooo is this what I think it is?” she demands as she reaches down to pick up a cup that she opens to reveal a café au lait with sprinkles of chocolate floating on top. “You are the best Sammi!”
The redhead tosses a grin over her shoulder as she looks down on the quarter, the excitement of Mardi Gras adding a brightness to the view as parade floats are being prepared. Finally Sam turns to her friends and puts her hands on her hips. “Okay you lazies, if we are going to get a great spot to watch today’s parade, we have to get a move on,” she tells her two friends who have reclined back on the delicate furniture of the balcony.
“Oh Sam, why do we have to leave this place and get into the push and shove of the people flashing for beads?” asks Roberta who puts her feet up and sips again. “Last night we had one heck of a night and I just want to recover today.”
“Bobbie, I have to leave tomorrow to get back to Vegas to prep for Blaze of Glory. I have a real challenge from Trinity Jones and I am taking it seriously. She seems to want to paint me as someone that doesn’t deserve to have the title I hold and that she is going to take it from me,” states Sam as she reaches up to rub the back of her neck.
Edie rolls her eyes and then raises her cup to Sam. “Like you really need to worry Sam, you have held this title how long? It is going nowhere.”
Roberta nods in agreement. “Edie is right, Sam you need to remember that you have done things that Trinity can only dream of. You have held the bombshell championship…TWICE!” exclaims Roberta holding up two fingers, before continuing after throwing up a third finger. “And you have held the Bombshell Roulette title THREE times!”
Both Roberta and Edie keep nodding as Sam moves closer and takes the third seat at the table. “Okay guys but let me point this out…to have held those titles more than once means I lost a match to lose the title,” she states as she brings her elbow to rest on the table and sets her chin into the cup of her hand with a hmmph of worry. “I don’t want to have to call myself the four time Bombshell Roulette champion.”
Roberta puts her hand on the shoulder of Sam getting her attention. “Listen Sammi, we know how you get before a big match and well we have faith in your abilities so you just take today, relax and totally take your mind off the match and enjoy the sights…” Roberta’s voice trails off as she sees a couple of men preparing for the parade with their shirts off. She nods at her friends and motions. “With a view like that, who has time to worry about wrestling matches against other women?”
“Does your husband know you look at other men?” demands Edie with a smirk.
“He knows I am not blind,” rebuts Roberta. “He also knows I am faithful and even if I do look…AND I DO…I never ever touch.”
Sam and Edie share a look then all three break out in laughter. Putting her hands on the top of the table, Sam lifts herself out of the chair and then with a smile to her friends, she heads towards the doorway into the room. “Well if you two are going to be staying out here, checking out the view…” Sam says as she motions towards the men, “I am going to be the first to have a hot shower and I may not leave you guys any!”
With that final taunt, Sam ducks through the doorway and into the room. Moving towards the bathroom, she reaches down for the edge of her shirt and begins to work it upwards…
*~ BLINK ~*
The steam of the hot water covered the glass doors of the shower and made it opaque. Standing there, Sam lets the stream pound onto her shoulders as she rests her palms on the wall. The water has her hair streaming wetly on either side of her face obscuring it. A voice can be heard from outside the shower, the words beating the ears of Sam as she sighs and raises up to let the water stream on her face.
“I can’t let her get into my head,” says Sam softly as one hand curls into a fist and slams against the wall gently. The voice continues to speak, the words of Trinity Jones playing on a loop, each sentence driving deeper into the psyche of Sam.
Eyes closed as the water beats down, Sam remembers back to when she faced Trinity before to a time limit draw and how she kept her title but wasn’t satisfied by the draw. Trinity’s words keep twisting that verbal knife deeper and deeper into Sam’s head, the cadence of the words matched by the slamming of a hand against the wall until suddenly, the words are cut off. Standing upright, Sam wipes the water from her eyes and then brushes back her hair as she turns towards the now open door and her friend Roberta standing there, one hand on the pause button of the phone that had been playing.
“Okay Sam, I get it, you are punishing yourself needlessly by listening to someone push your buttons,” offers Bobbie. “Do you really think that listening to this {expletive} is going to help you in the ring at Blaze of Glory? Instead of listening to the words of someone desperate to prove themselves, I want you to listen to the words of someone that knows you better than sometimes you know yourself.”
Sam chuckles as she reaches for the taps and turns off the water. Reaching to the towel rack she pulls a large fluffy white towel from it and then wraps it around her body before stepping from the shower and grabbing a smaller towel to squeeze the water from her hair. As she does, Roberta moves to sit on the toilet and watch.
“Bobbie, you know I have always been one to have to deal with everyone down on me. You have seen my sister do that to me and now no matter who I face or what match I step into, that is all they talk about,” admits Sam as she turns and angrily tosses the now balled up towel back into the shower stall. “I have everyone telling me that I am scared, that I am not a champion that is worth the title. I let it dig into me and do you know why?”
“I bet you are going to tell me,” answers Bobbie as she picks up and hands a comb to Sam who smiles her thanks. Starting to stroke the comb through the tangles in her curls, Sam is quiet for a moment before Bobbie speaks up. “So spill Sammi.”
Sam lets a soft chuckle escape at the impatience of her friend. “I do it because it drives me to prove them wrong. What you see as punishment Bobbie is me preparing for my match mentally. I can’t tell you how many times listening to Cyn has driven me to do better than what she has said about me. It is the same when I hear everyone putting me down like Trinity has these last two weeks. Right now listening to her spout off about how I am not a fighting champion that is running from her…goodness knows that I am not hard to find nor am I afraid of anything.”
Bobbie’s eyes widen at Sam’s comment. “You can’t be serious Sam?”
Sam looks at the mirror and the reflection of her friend. “Of course I am serious Bobbie. Oh I make the mistake of letting it get to me a little I will admit but it is a side affect to wanting to be the best. It’s like most people ask what burns their rear…and normally the answer is a flame about two and a half feet high but for me, it is the put downs from the ones wanting to take my belt. It fires me up.”
“You are so lucky it is me here listening to this. If it was Edie, she would be trying to interpret your psyche given that she is the psychologist out of the three of us,” jokes Bobbie. “Listen to me, the economist telling the English Lit master’s student slash wrestling champion what to do. Just don’t let it get to you Sam. I mean who really is this Trinity person to talk about you when she really hasn’t gotten anywhere in SCW. You are a champion and a dominant one at that if my husband is to be believed. So all you have to do is remember that you are the champion Sam and she has to beat you, you don’t have to beat her.”
Sam offers her friend a half grin as she brings the comb down the last bit of tangles in her hair and then sets it on the sink side. “You’re right Bobbie, thanks for the advice. I guess I can take a break from getting ready to enjoy today and I will deal with Trinity later in the week,” Sam says before looking down at the towel then back at Bobbie. “And I need to get dressed if we are setting out to find our parade place.”
Bobbie gets to her feet and holds her arms out, wiggling her fingers slightly. “Bring it in Sammi,” she taunts as she motions for a hug. Sam gets a nervous look on her face as she backs away towards the door with a giggle as Bobbie follows her complaining why Sam won’t hug her.
<img src=http://i63.tinypic.com/21abndy.jpg> The wheel of roulette title match stipulations is standing in what looks like the backstage area of where Blaze of Glory is set to happen. The match stipulations run the gambit of pillow fight to pudding match to inferno match to death match and all kinds in between. Moving to stand beside the wheel, one hand trailing along the edge as Sam Marlowe turns to look towards the sound of footsteps that indicates she is being joined by someone. Into the view comes Pussy Willow, a camera in her hands.
“I don’t think we are supposed to be here this early Sam,” mutters Pussy as she takes in the champion wearing a pair of dark jeans and a light leather jacket over a halter top. Sam’s boot heel taps slightly on the concrete as she gives Pussy a look.
“I know,” she replies. “Do you think this not listening will ruin my good girl rep?” Hearing the teasing tone in Sam’s voice only makes Pussy huff with irony. Sam nods as she holds up her free hand in surrender. “I am just going to be a few minutes Pussy and there weren’t any cameramen available. I just want to send a message for my match this week to Trinity considering all the things that she has said about me and I don’t want her to think that I am avoiding her because that is the last thing I want her to think.”
Pussy nods in agreement as she films Sam who moves to stand in front of the wheel, her hands reaching out to hold onto two of the pegs as she begins to speak…
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<td>Trinity I get it now, I really do understand where you are coming from and I have to say that bravo, you have made it known that you are the best striker in this company and maybe you are and maybe you aren’t but that isn’t going to matter in this match at Blaze of Glory. You are facing me in a match that no one can be ready for. Well that isn’t completely true. I prepare for any and all matches to defend my title and when it comes to defending it, I am going to be doing that with no fear and no quit as of Sunday night. Which then begs the question…what are you going to do when I come like a fury at you to defend my title.
Since our last match I faced women and each one was a lesson that has brought me to the edge and pushed me further. But I want to remind you of something…our last match was to a time limit draw. In this match, there technically is no time limit. You claimed rightly that you did take me to the time limit. And I will admit you do hit hard but do you have the stamina to face me in a match that could see me take you to an hour or more? Do you have the desire to see blood just to win a first blood match? Do you have what it takes to step into a ring or venue or arena that could see me leave you in a pool of blood and pain to be the last woman standing to retain my title. I have battled in those kinds of matches and I am ready for anything.
The Bombshell Roulette title is something that I value more each day and I am honored to defend it against anyone. I make each match a title match in my mind and now at Blaze of Glory, you get a title shot. Which means I see you as an obstacle to burn through on my way to continuing to make history.
I bet right now you are thinking that you are going to be the next Bombshell Roulette title holder and I have to apologize. Because if you think that you are going to take the title from me, you have another thing coming. I am not defined by the title but Trinity, that title is defined by just who wears it and I may be the sweetheart of SCW but do not think that I can’t be a wildcat when I need to be.
So let me wish you luck Trinity because when it comes to that title I am going to be the fire and the fury that will incinerate your dreams of being the Bombshell Roulette champion.</td>
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“Wow Sam, where is that from?” asks Pussy who continues to film Sam who just smiles.
“I guess you could say that I got tired of hearing everything Trinity was saying and wanted to remind her just who was the champion. Is it too much?” asks Sam nervously as she lightly sucks her bottom lip into her teeth to worry it slightly.
“I have been telling you that you need to be more like that Sam,” replies Pussy as she stops recording.
Suddenly a door is opened as a voice calls out scaring both women who turn to see a security guard moving down the ramp. The pair look at each other guiltily before moving to join the security guard who begins to question them. Pussy reaches into a pocket and pulls out her ID and she and Sam talk to security who guides them up the ramp taking notes before all three disappear behind the curtain.
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