We cut backstage for a short moment away from the in-ring action, to find ourselves in the average backstage hallway, nothing particularly out of the ordinary. However, as our camera pans around slightly, we spot a rather familiar behind. In front of us stands W2K Championess Isabella Taylor, legs spread slightly, bent completely over, her palms flat on the ground in front of her. As she is dressed in her ring attire, we assume she is simply performing a few pre-match stretches, ready to go out and defend her belt very soon. The sling click of a door opening and closing greets our ears next, as a stagehand pops out of the nearest door. He stops right behind Isabella, apparently wanting to tell her something, but the picture-perfect image of her behind causes a slight distraction. Fortunately however, Isabella spots the guy behind her, as she bends down again, looking between her own legs, rising to her feet to meet him. As she turns around, the guy knows he’s been caught, and becomes speechless, Isabella rolling her eyes in response to his stupidity.

Isabella: What?

Stagehand: Uuh.. sorry.. Ms. Taylor. Mr. McMillion will see you now.

The man scuttles off elsewhere as Isabella nods in response, scooping her Championess Title off the ground, bringing it up to rest on her shoulder proudly. She heads straight into the closest door, and apparently right into Jerm’s office as we switch inside to join her. Apart from Jerm sat behind his desk, he is also joined by the two HBO executives we saw meet with him earlier in the week, Mr. Jameson and Mr. Daniels. The two notice the title on Isabella’s shoulder, and greet her with smiles as she enters the room. She smiles, in a rather fake manner, back at them, but moves past them straight to Jerm’s desk, quick to do business as she does have a match to compete in soon after all.

Isabella: So Jerm, do I get to find out who my mystery opponent is now? My match is next, so I figured that’s the reason I was called here. So, who is it?

Jerm: Firstly Ms. Taylor, it’s Mr. McMillion to you.

Jerm grins around her at the two executives as Isabella rolls her eyes, knowing that he is obviously just trying to show off a little power to these men.

Isabella: Yeah.. whatever Jerm.

His grin falters just slightly at this defiance, as Isabella grins down at him herself, though he recovers with a much sterner tone than before.

Jerm: Secondly, Ms. Taylor, I didn’t call you in here to tell you who your opponent is. You’ll find that out once you’re out there. We can’t allow you any extra preparation time now can we?

Isabella: But of course, that just wouldn’t be fair at all now would it?

Jerm catches the sarcasm, as do the HBO executives, but he lets it slide for now, having more important business to deal with.

Jerm: Ms. Taylor, I’d like you to meet Mr. Daniels and Mr. Jameson. These men are the two HBO executives I’ll be working closely with to revamp our product and turn it into something even W2K has never seen before.

Isabella: Great, so I have these guys to blame for the crap you’re putting me through.

Isabella turns to the two men, shaking each one’s hand rather swiftly and certainly not politely, as she isn’t in the best of moods right now.

Jerm: Ms. Taylor is our W2K Championess, as you have probably gathered. She’s been doing a fantastic job of representing our women’s division for over a year now.

Mr. Daniels: A whole year? That’s very impressive Ms. Taylor. But have you considered what your title reign has been doing to the overall product?

Isabella: I’m not quite sure I follow..

Mr. Jameson: Maybe you should mix it up a little, let someone else have a run for a while, then you can come back to it. It’s a natural step for the business, to take it to the next level. People just like change.

Isabella shakes her head slightly, a little grin on her face as she leans down, getting a little closer to the two men while pointing to her left, presumably in the direction of the ring.

Isabella: That’s funny, because I can show you a couple of thousand screaming fans out there, that’ll tell you otherwise. Those fans are more than happy with me representing them as their Championess, so until someone is good enough to take it from me, it’s staying precisely where it is.

A sarcastic wink from Isabella, as she rises to her full height, turning back to face Jerm, happy to ignore these two gentlemen from here on out after that ridiculous comment.

Jerm: Don’t worry about her gentlemen, our Champions are very protective of their reigns, that’s all. Now Ms. Taylor, I was wondering if you’d given any more thought to that talk we had the other day. Willing to make certain changes to suit the new product?

Isabella takes a long, deep breath, as if she’s actually thinking about it carefully, before bending down over Jerm’s desk, leaning in real close to him, making sure he gets the message.

Isabella: Over my dead body.

As Isabella pushes herself back from the desk ready to leave and compete in her match, Jerm rises to his own feet, muttering something along the lines of “I thought as much�?

Jerm: Ms. Taylor, we’re not done yet. You know the Anarchy Rumble is coming up, so you should know that we need to start drawing numbers for entrants pretty soon too.

Jerm backs away from his desk, opening a back door to his office, perhaps a closet door, but either way, he pulls out what looks like a tombola. The sight of it causes Isabella to stop in her tracks, looking it and Jerm over suspiciously, she knows something’s going on here.

Isabella: Don’t we usually draw numbers at the actual Pay Per View? It’s a little early, don’t you think Jerm?

Jerm: It’s never too early Ms. Taylor. Please, take your pick.

She raises an eyebrow at him, as he spins the revolving drum, the small balls with numbers inside rattling as they roll over one another. Still glaring a hole through Jerm, Isabella steps forward, picking a ball out and opening it up, examining the number, her eyes shooting open widely as she spots it.

Isabella: Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me! This is far too convenient for my liking Jerm.

Jerm: Can’t help the luck of the draw Ms. Taylor.

Jerm closes up the drum, rolling it off to his side as Isabella stares at her chosen number, then back up at the Jerm, who just smirks nastily at her.

Jerm: Can’t touch you, huh?

Jerm almost whispers these words, so the two gentlemen cannot hear him incriminate himself, as it’s now obvious he has rigged the tombola just to get at Isabella for humiliating him. Isabella glares hard at him, before spinning around and storming out of the room, the piece of paper with her number on fluttering out of her grasp as she slams the office door shut. We watch her stomp off down the hallway, off to her match, as the paper flutters to the ground, the camera zooming in on it carefully.

1

We read the paper, hardly believing our eyes, but knowing precisely what Isabella meant when she said it was far too convenient. There’s no doubt that Jerm rigged her number, and there’s no doubt that Isabella is in for one hell of a fight at Anarchy.