Valkyrie is sitting on the floor, with her back against the wall. She is still catching her breath, while holding an ice pack firmly pressed against her left elbow.
Jim Black approaches her to ask her a few questions
Jim Black: The night started off pretty bad for you, but somehow you managed to turn things around. Care to comment on what happened?
Valkyrie: Moore jumped me in the parking lot and dropped my motorbike on top of my arm…
Valkyrie: The EMTs had the brilliant idea of letting me compete with a huge bandage which screamed “Hey! This is the target!”
Valkyrie: And then Karissa Dawson spent 8 minutes twisting and bending my arm in ways I didn't even know were anatomically possible.
Valkyrie closes her eyes and exhales.
Valkyrie: I keep saying that we can learn a lot from Fairy Tales and Disney Movies.
Valkyrie: In Frozen, what did Elsa and her sister do when they found out Anna was cursed and was never going to be able to love again?
Valkyrie: In Tangled, they told Princess Rapunzel she was never going to leave her tower… did she just passively accept her fate or did she fight back?
Valkyrie: Fairy Tales Heroes all have one thing in common: even when the situation seems desperate, they keep fighting, they keep believing in themselves… and that's how they get to their Happy Ending.
Valkyrie: Blaine, aka B17, says I am not strong enough to compete here because I only weigh 89 pounds and I'm 5 feet tall. But you know what? I possess a different type of strength and it's stored in my heart. I am resilient and determined.
Jim Black: But Valkyrie… the Internet Experts are saying that you are becoming the Villain of this Fairy Tale…
Valkyrie: Who? Me?
Valkyrie smiles innocently.
In this moment you realize Valkyrie is the most pure and delicate creature to ever walk the Earth.
Valkyrie: Don't believe what you read on the Internet, Jim. Listen only to the sound of my voice.
Valkyrie: Some try to picture me as a bad person when I'm not. But at the end of the day, I am still the only true Valkyrie. And I will never change.
The scene opens on the backstage area, the production team buzzing and dilligently working on the show as they work towards presenting tonight’s Main Event without a hitch.
A crash breaks out behind the production area, earning only a few passing glances before faces turn back to their assigned monitors, after all, this is a wrestling show and they are used to chaos all around.
The camera man is interested, however, and begins to move towards the commotion. As the camera turns the corner, folding chairs are strewn about around the backstage main corridor, having fell from the cart that carries them by the dozens.
Laying in the rubble of this the One Man Revolution, Bobby Minio, still feeling the effects of his match with Quartz. He’s violently coughing, which becomes more of a empty wheeze as the camera gets closer.
Bobby Minio: H-how…. many f*WHEEZE*ing s-spinebreak… spinebreakers… can a man *COUGH* dish out!
His lungs strain to provide the words with the air to carry them into audio and even when he is not speaking, his breaths are shallow and labored.
After a few seconds of choking on the air he inhales, Minio thinks better of laying on his side and begins to try to roll onto all fours before climbing his way up to his feet using the chair cart, causing more chairs to flood down haphazardly, a few landing on a now prone Minio.
He rolls his head back, resigning to this fate for the moment, before struggling through a few more words.
Bobby Minio: F-*CHOKE*aaaakkkkk… y-you Quar-*WHEEZE*tz… and th-the… tag partner *COUGH* you… rode in on.
To punctuate this last bit of fight left in his body, Minio raises his hand up to his face, staring up at the ceiling as a few chairs are displaced from where they were resting on his body. His hand is clenched in his imaginary mic fist.
Bobby Minio: *WHEEZE* M-mic Drop.
He lazily throws his arm forward, as if he were pitching the non-existent microphone into the air. The worst part of it is, perhaps on account of shellshock after the damage he endured in his match a few minutes ago, he rolls to his side, his arm raising and clenching at the elbow to protect his head from the imaginary microphone as if it would be at the mercy of gravity.
His locked guard breaks as he begins to spill out into another violent coughing fit, leading the camera to pan at the carnage Minio had left behind as he stumbled around this hallway, before the scene cuts to ringside.
