PWP 6: The March 4 Glory - Robert Saints vs. Savannah

SAVANNAH RP

We fade in on a monitor showing Robert Sands working on a treadmill with his personal trainer is timing him to see what his personal best for a mile is.

Robert Sands: Savannah, You’re another cute face around here that will be destroyed in this tournament so why don’t you just do us all a favor and just give up already because you know that you’re not going to win this match or the tournament to become the new PWP World Heavyweight Champion. You might have done a lot of things in the past but that was another company with very different people than those here in PWP so you might find that the competition in PWP to be very much different because here in PWP we don’t hold back the punches or the insults so don’t say later that I didn't warn you or gave you a way out of this match, girlie.

The video pauses as the camera pulls back, showing Savannah sitting in a chair before the monitor. She turns in her chair to face to face the camera She's smiling, but it's not the same smile she's shown before. It's a colder smile, a more businesslike smile- a smile that might hide a heartbreak.

Savannah:
Ah, yes. Robert Sands back at the Gold Rush, telling everyome what a great athlete he was, and how certain little girls like me shouldn't bother playing with big, stong manly men like him. Thanks for calling me 'cute', by the way.

She laughs at that, a dry, humorless laugh.

Savannah:
I admit I didn't get as far along in the tournament as I had hoped. In fact, I lost my first round match against Jordan Caliban, who is getting his shot at the title now held by James Shark at March 4 Glory , by the way. Good luck in your match Caiban!

So I didn't do as well as the great Robert Sands who… oh wait…

Savannah picks up a clipboard from the table next to her. She looks to study it for a moment, then chuckles.

Savannah:
It says here that the great and all powerful Mr. Sands lost his first round match as well. Quite spectacularly. Hmm…

She smiles at the camera again. This smile is larger, but no warmer. Like the cat who has just trapped a mouse.

Savannah:
Seems Bobby boy isn't the shit he's been putting himself out to be, hmm? Of course, like I said I lost my first round match as well. But I never said anything about running the board, now did I?

Savannah leans back in her chair, turning her head for a moment to look at the frozen image of Robert Sands.

Savannah:
I bet you're feeling quite the let down, nowadays Bobby boy. After all here you had crowned yourself King of the World, only to be shown up by some old man on his last trip around the feds before he hangs it up for good. And I bet it's really eating you that your next opponent after the big letdown- is the same 'cute girlie' you advised to get lost back at Gold Rush.

Savannah leans forward, looking straight into the camera.

Savannah:
And I'm betting you still think of me at that 'cute girlie' who wasn't ready to take what you have to dish out. Because you'd be wrong, and I'll prove it by coming into Radio City Music Hall and proceeding to kick your ass the length and breadth of Manhattan!

I have never expected punches to be pulled for me. And if you'd taken five minutes to actually look at my matches you'd have seen that!

So Bobby boy, you've got a choice. You can come to March 4 Glory expecting an opponent who's going to  be anything, do everything, bring everything she has to bring to the match in order to beat you- or you can go on thinking that I'm just some eye candy diva that will be a pushover for a manly man like you. This is  what I expect you to do, really. Why quit being stupid when it's working so well for you?

See you in New York.

We fade to black.