"Remember when you used to be a rascal?"

The question was spoken slowly in a smooth beat in a woman's voice that was unfamiliar to everyone. The question seemed like it was more of a challange, making the crowd think of the last time they really cut loose. Making them remember. "Remember when you used to be a rascal?" The lights don't fade, they don't change at all, as five-foot-six Mardy Wilkes Booth steps through the curtain for the very first time. "Flourescent Adolescents" by the Brithish band, Arctic Monkeys, only barely blocks out the sound of her rapturing heart. Nerves, mind, body are all racing. They are going at speeds that just forced her to take the next step, and the one after that. Soon enough Mardy was able to fight off every small voice in her head that shouted at the top of their lungs, telling her to run up the ramp screaming and crying, she was in the ring.

Mardy Wilkes-Booth was not a diva. She was not in the ring to impress or for little girls to idolize. Mardy was in the ring soley for herself therefore she did not pretend to be anyone else. Mardy wore a giant gray sweater that didn't stay on her frame correctly. Her jeans were faded and torn and Mardy didn't even bother to put on socks and shoes. She stood in the center of the ring with one leg kicked out and her arms crossed in front of her. Mardy breathed in deep, calming herself down significantly. The crowd remained fairly silent throughout the entrance. Mardy raised the microphone to speak but instead gestured to the crowd to wait one minute.

Mardy dug her free hand into her pocket until she pulled out a lighter and a roach. She set the roach in her mouth and continued to smoke the rest of it. After exhaling a couple hits Mardy lifted the microphone again, "Three thousand two hundred fifty two, three thousand two hundred fifty three, three thousand two hundred and fifty four, five weeks, one, and all."

Mardy stopped talking to blow on the roach, sending ashes to the mat. The crowd wondered what she was talking about but Mardy took her time in speaking. "Let's take a look at the numbers now. The first set is the number of brain cells I just killed with this," Mardy raised the roach. "Five weeks is the amount of time I have been in a professional ring. One is the amount of championships I have already won. And all is how many Championships you are going to see me win."

The crowd were unsure how to react. They've never seen or heard this girl before and she was right here, smoking a joint, claiming she was going to win championships. Meanwhile Mardy had taken another hit during her pause. When she was just about ready to talk, she choked and began coughing. Her eyes were turning red and lemonshapped. Mardy laughed as she lifted the microphone again, "Now, I don't really pay attention too much to boring people. The boring person in question would be that girl, um the one that took the title thingy and changed it. Or something like that. What she is is not Championship material and soon enough I will show to you that compared to me, nobody here is worth the titles they hold."

After making such a profound statement, Mardy lowered the microphone and headed for the exit. "Fluorescent Adolescent" by the Arctic Monkeys was played again as Mardy left the crowd curious for more.