Post by Izzy Roxx on Jan 13, 2018 17:34:28 GMT -5
'Well...here we are again. Another month, another triple threat.'
The words, which open the latest video posted on the WCG website, are spoken by one of the company's youngest roster members. Izzy Roxx - barely a month into her eighteenth year of life at the time the video is uploaded - bites into her cheeseburger and takes a sip of her soda as she continues:
'It's starting to get a little old, don'tcha think? Seems like every other show I find myself in the ring with two other people who are either more talented than me, more experienced than me, more popular than me, or if I'm REALLY lucky, all three. And this time, it's no different. Case in point...Remi.'
The youngster takes another sip of her soda as she leans forward towards the camera.
'Remi...I gotta start with you, dude. One, 'cause Lorson doesn't really talk that much, and two, 'cause Lorson's not really my friend. You? You are my friend. And because you're my friend, there's a couple of things we gotta talk about.'
Izzy finishes off her tall cup of fizz and places it just off-screen as she continues:
'For example...you've been talking for weeks about how I made you feel bad at the end of our match last time. Well...I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt your feelings, dude. I was giving you legit props for doing what I never could yet, and landing that stupid move. I'm sorry you took it the wrong way, 'kay?'
The youngster's expression remains completely serious as she adds:
'I just...I go to a real bad place after matches. And you're right, I shouldn't. I shouldn't let it get to me. But I do. And it does. It gets to me something crazy. The fact that for once in my life I'm actually serious about something, and I'm still going nowhere fast.'
A look of utmost sadness comes across Izzy's eyes as she proceeds:
'And I know what you're gonna say. I'm rich, right? I can't have it that bad! Well...my parents are probably the only rich people in the world who don't spoil their kid, so there's that. I've wanted a puppy since I was eight, and here we are ten years later, and I still don't have one. And my best friend gets a freaking motorbike for Christmas, and I get the wrong kind of musical instrument. So yeah.
And speaking of musical instrument, I know what you're gonna say next. I have my band. We have a demo out. We've gotta be famous, right? Well...our last show was at someone's backyard birthday party, so...there you go. Being rich gets me nothing, my band is going nowhere, and on top of all of that, I'm probably the reason hashtag #foreveralone was invented. So yeah. Wrestling is the only thing I thought might go my way, and it's not. And apparently if I'm not sunshine and rainbows twenty-four hours a freaking day, people start talking bad about me for being too negative. Or taking it personally and thinking I'm dissing them on purpose. Or whatever. So every time I lose another match, I'm not even allowed to feel down about it. You see how it gets to be just a little bit annoying after a while?'
Seemingly realising she has gone off on an angry tangent, Izzy takes a moment to pull herself together before apologising to her friend:
'Sorry. Got carried away there. But hopefully you get it. Last time wasn't a dis on you. I was just feeling frustrated. And when I'm frustrated, I complain to everyone. Just ask Josh. Or Coach Eddie. Or my buddy Seth. And yes, before you say anything, Adam's had to put up with me, too.'
Izzy tries for a smile, but it comes off as nothing more than a feeble grin.
'This time, though...this time, I won't let that happen. This time, I promise that if you do beat me again – which, let's face it, you probably will – I'm gonna get right back up to my feet and give you a hug and take you out for pizza. 'Cause that's what friends do. Even when they're mad at themselves for not being good enough. All right?'
The smile is wider this time, more radiant. After a few seconds, however, it once again gets replaced with a grave expression, as the youngster moves on to address her second opponent at the West Coast Genesis Pay-Per-View.
'And speaking of beating me...bet you're looking forward to doing THAT again tomorrow, huh, Lorson? I mean...I was your first win in a while back then, wasn't I? So why wouldn't you be able to beat me again? I'm in the exact same place I was back then. I still can't hit my move, I'm still being put against people to make them feel good about themselves, and I still have about as much chance of winning a title any time soon as of beating the Elite Four with a Magikarp and a Metapod. So yeah...'title implications' or not, we all know why I'm in this match. And since Remi got to feel good about beating me last time...I guess you're thinking now's your turn. And you're probably not wrong...'
Izzy sighs, a deep, depressingly genuine sound.
'So, yeah. Another month, another Triple Threat. And this one's on Pay-Per-View, which means even more people get to see me have two offensive moves and then botch up my third. So excuse me if I'm not exactly coming across as confident, or hyping up the match, or whatever they ask you to do with these videos. The truth is, there isn't much of a point in doing that. Not when you're me. So guys...let's just do this, and shake hands afterwards, and walk out as friends.
'Cause at this point, that's about the best I can hope for.'
With that, a very forlorn-looking Izzy leans forward, her left arm stretching out into the frame as she switches off her web camera and bring the video to an end.