Reina Valhalla vs The Guvnor

Chicago, Ill
September 16th, 2021
Undisclosed location
OFF-camera

Una Quinn is sitting atop a set of retracted wooden stands at a gym, looking at her watch when a red-headed woman practically runs in carrying a bag over her shoulder. The redhead looks around frantically before Una clears her throat. The redhead looks up as Una hops down and extends her hand.

“You must be Reina.”

“Yes.”

“Good, I was getting worried you wouldn’t make it.”

“No, I need to be here. What do you want from me?”

Una nods and debates this for a minute.

“Eager to prove yourself, that’s a good thing. I reviewed a few of your matches, and you are scary good. As you know, though, The Purge are a trio of monsters. They don’t do the flippy shit, and yet you wanted to be here. So, what I want from you is an explanation. Why us?”

Reina sizes up Una as she puts her bag down.

“Exactly the reason you said. You have three monsters, three tanks. Who’s covering the air?”

“We’ve done quite well thus far.”

“Yeah? Then why is Hairicin the only one with a championship? Why are none of the other champions talking about you?”

“We have not had the opp…”

Reina puts her hand in Una’s face. Una slowly moves it out of the way, her charming demeanor has become one of frustration.

“I thought The Purge MADE their own opportunities? You have your Zombie who SHOULD be getting her receipt from Aguero for almost halting her career. You have this Solomon Cain who is beating down your clients sisters, and yet what have you done? You’ve steered these women in a better direction, yes, but how far are you willing to lead them?”

“As far as it takes.”

“Wrong answer, Una. You’re the leader, you have to lead them to paradise. You have to lead them to the top of the mountain.”

Una grunts and recomposes herself. Just then, Una’s boyfriend Ronnie Lester, as well as their friend Sylvia Lopez walk in. Sylvia smiles a creepy smile as she claps and breaks off into a sprint to the ring that’s been set up.

“I like your fire, Reina, I do. And you make some good points. Let’s see if your body can tolerate the trouble your mouth wants to get you into.”

Reina shrugs and steps in the ring, sizing up Sylvia who’s leaned out through the ropes to listen to Ronnie.

“You want me to fight her? She doesn’t look all that mentally stable.”

Una cocks an eyebrow which catches Sylvia’s attention.

“Sorry, want to repeat that so Sylvia here could hear you? If you want to talk about her, you should be able to say whatever you want directly to her.”

“I said your friend there is crazy!”

The next fifteen to twenty minutes seemed very one-sided at first as Sylvia Lopez snapped on Reina. However, the longer the match went on, the more Reina started to fight back and using her skills against her opponent. Finally, Una threw in a white towel and both stopped, returning to a corner farthest from each other.

“You did good, Timber. Go clean up, I’ll see you in a bit.”

As Sylvia left with Ronnie, Una crosses her arms as she looks at Reina.

“Let’s get a few things out of the way. One, despite your disrespect earlier, I am going to give you a chance. You fought well and held your own. Two, you will take your orders from me, and you will be expected to be in New Orleans to meet the others once things quiet down a little. Three, welcome to The Purge.”

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September 28th, 2021
Sound stage - Chicago Illinois
ON-Camera

We find our newest member of The Purge, Reina Valhalla, sitting on a replica throne from the Game of Thrones TV show in the middle of a room decked out like a royal chamber. Hanging off one of the arms is a gas mask. Her shockingly red hair hangs in front of her face, partially covering it. She looks tired and aloof as one amber eye peers through the curtain of hair.

“Mr. Sutton, please be seated.

The reason you are here today is because your prior opponent needed a change of scenery. I won’t speak ill about those no longer here and can defend themselves, but it’s a part of the industry. Sometimes one doesn’t fit the environment and needs to find a place that suits them better. One of the reasons I am here in Mile High Wrestling now. I needed a change of scenery myself.”

Reina sits back and pulls her hair from her face. She dangles her legs over the arm of the throne and she continues to speak.

“My apologies, Mr. Sutton, I had to get that piece of business out of the way so we can focus on what actually matters. And what matters is that you are in my court. You see, I got tired of being the big fish in small ponds. You can not imagine how boring that is. So I contacted Miss Quinn and here I am. A member of The Purge, and my first opponent… is you.

I like my partners. They’re big, they’re powerful, they look great but they were missing a vital piece. Get an enemy grounded, and there would be nothing left with those three, that has been proven. What would have happened if they were attacked from the air? That is where I come in. As a unit, we are now unstoppable. Individually, we have a hall of famer, a current hardcore champion, and a proven bodyguard who can also wrestle. And a manager who puts asses in seats. A fine machine we are.

However, October 3rd isn’t about the machine. It’s about how its individual pieces can bear its load. And it starts with you, Mr. Sutton. You remind me of something my family, my ancestors, would speak fondly about. Bullfighting. The matadors were held in high regard, putting their lives on the line for the entertainment of others. They were beloved and respected. You, Mr. Sutton, don’t remind me of a matador, though. No, you are an old bull. Weathered and scarred from past fights, but yet is still alive. Still has the appearance, and perhaps even the mind, to keep fighting, but what of its body? Age is a curse as it robs you of strength, of speed, of timing, of cognitive ability. I have watched as my elders have withered, whether they wanted to or not. You, Mr. Sutton, are no exception to the rule.”

Reina slowly shakes her head, already seemingly tired of being where she is, an underlying restlessness building within her.

“You are old and I’m still young, and I can do things you will have no defense for. Say what you will to anyone who wishes to listen, but I see something behind every word you have spoken. You are a bitter one, I see that in your eyes. You don’t want to be here. You don’t even want to live anymore, and yet you feel doomed to keep breathing despite your best wishes.

I could assist in this… but I won’t. No, the fact that life causes you to suffer so... makes me smile. Why be benevolent and allow you what you desire most, when I can prolong your pain? You have nothing, you ARE nothing, so why should I change that for you?

I will recant my last statement. You are still nothing, but even in that nothing, there are things that can be taken from you. The first is my victory. The second is something you seem to hold near and dear to you, though I don’t think you realize how toxic it is. And that is your pride. Do you see your own irony, Mr. Sutton?”

Reina gets up and walks to the wall of books behind her and peruses for a few minutes and returns with a book by C.S. Lewis called Mere Christianity. She finds the page she marked as she returns to the throne and sits down.

“A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.”

Reina puts the book down and leans in, talking directly into the camera.

“You are a proud man, Mr. Sutton. You have said as such before. It is pride that propels you, that steels your resolve against adversity. It is clear as the lines of age on your face. However, now would be the appropriate time to look to the heavens for what is to come will be coming from on high. There is nothing you can learn of me because I have no trace for you to follow. Nothing to show where I have come from or where I am going. However, should you put your pride aside, even for a minute, you may realize that this was bound to happen. Macular degeneration and stubborn pride have left you blind, Mr. Sutton. You see only what you wish to. Funny thing about pride is that is is fueled by fear. Fear of reality, fear of the inevitable.

The inevitable is staying you in the face, Mr. Sutton.

Look up, and see me. Even if it’s already too late.

Dismissed.”