The scene opens inside Garlands - a cafe in the city centre of Cardiff - on the early afternoon of Friday 2nd January. Sat alone, at one of the wooden tables, is Natalie McKinley; she is wearing a pair of pale blue jeans and a light grey sleeveless t-shirt, while a red jacket is hanging on the back of her chair.
Within a matter of seconds, into view - approaching the table - walks a man that has short dark brown hair, and who looks to be in his early thirties: this is Simon Jones - a friend of Natalie, and a semi-professional wrestler, who some people may recognise from his appearances in Pro-Wrestling FRONTIER; Simon is wearing black jeans, and a royal blue sweater that has on it an image of a blue-nosed reindeer wearing a blue and white scarf.
Simon: 'I ordered you a chicken salad - as you requested.'
Simon sits down opposite Natalie, on a chair that has a black coat hanging on the back of it.
Natalie: 'Thanks. And what are you having?'
Simon: 'A fry up - the full meaty.'
Natalie responds in a sarcastic manner.
Natalie: 'A key component of any healthy diet.'
Simon: 'Clear eyes, clogged arteries - can't lose.'
Simon points to his eyes, and then pats his belly.
Simon: 'Just have your salad, and let me enjoy my meal.'
Natalie: 'Are you going to be okay, buying me lunch? I don't want Jacqui thinking we're having an affair again.'
The "Jacqui" that Natalie referred to is Simon's wife, Jacqueline. Last May, after hearing tales of her husband having been seen being overly friendly with a girl from the gym - i.e. Natalie - both at the gym and elsewhere, Jacqueline accused Simon of cheating on her; eventually, Simon and Natalie were able to satisfy Jacqueline that the two of them are nothing more than friends.
Simon chuckles.
Simon: 'You've got nothing to worry about - Jacqui is well aware that we were going to go somewhere to eat, after the gym. Besides, I owed you for those drinks that you bought for myself and Jacqui the other night.'
Natalie: 'Huh; so you did. But even so, after everything that you did for me last year, I still feel like it should be me repaying you, rather than the other way round.'
As was alluded to in her previous
promo, it was Simon that helped Natalie to get her break in wrestling.
Simon: 'I know what you're getting at, but how many times do I need to tell you? There's nothing you need to pay me back for.'
Natalie holds her hand up, in surrender.
Natalie: 'Okay.'
As she then changes the subject, Natalie points at Simon's novelty sweater.
Natalie: 'I can't believe you're still wearing that - Christmas was eight days ago.'
Simon takes a quick look down, at his sweater, before looking back to Natalie.
Simon: 'And? This jumper cost me thirty quid - I just want to make sure that I get my money's worth out of it.'
Natalie: 'So how much longer are you going to keep wearing it for, then?'
Simon: 'I'll wear it when I go to Blyth, tomorrow, and then after that I'll put it away until mid-December.'
Natalie smiles.
Natalie: 'Are you looking forward to tomorrow? Going to Blyth, I mean.'
Simon: 'I'm looking forward to the match, and getting to watch Blues play at a ground that I've never been to before. I'm not really looking forward to the journey, though - it's at least a five and a half hour drive, of over three hundred miles; if Blues were to lose to Blyth, then that would make for a wretched drive home.'
Natalie scoffs at the latter part of Simon's reply.
Natalie: 'Blyth won't beat Birmingham - that would be like me beating, say, Jimmy Page.'
Simon: 'You're doing yourself a disservice, there - if you were to have a match with Jimmy Page, I think that there would be a greater likelihood of you beating Page, than there is of Blyth beating Blues tomorrow.'
Natalie: 'You think so? What are the betting odds for tomorrow's game?'
Simon shrugs.
Simon: 'I'm not sure; something like ten-to-one for a Blyth win, with Blues three-to-one on to win - I think.'
Natalie: 'And so, supposing that I was to have a one-on-one match against Jimmy Page, you don't think that the odds of me winning would be longer than ten-to-one?'
Simon: 'No, I don't.'
Natalie: 'Or that the odds of Page winning would be shorter than three-to-one on?'
Simon: 'No, I...'
Simon's voice trails off; he then sighs.
Simon: 'Natalie, I know that if you and Jimmy Page were opponents, then he would be the favourite to win. And I'm sure that he would be the odds on favourite - maybe not at odds as short as three-to-one on, but odds on nevertheless; even though you're my friend, I'm realistic enough to know that, if you
were in the ring with Jimmy Page, then you would be in for an almighty struggle.'
Simon is briefly interrupted by Natalie, who makes another sarcastic comment.
Natalie: 'Thanks for the vote of confidence.'
Simon responds in a similar tone.
Simon: 'You're welcome.'
Natalie pokes her tongue out.
Simon: 'But seriously, the disparity between you and Jimmy Page isn't as great as the disparity between Blues and Blyth Spartans; you may not be at his level - and right now, few people are - but you're not as far below Page as Blyth are below Blues. So no, I don't think that bookies would have the odds of you beating Jimmy Page at as long as ten-to-one.'
With his right hand, Simon rubs his chin.
Simon: 'And you know, while Blyth are highly unlikely to ever reach the level that Blues are at, if you continue to train hard, and do the right things, then some day, you might approach the level that Jimmy Page is at - which, long-term, should be your goal.'
Natalie: 'It is; time will tell just how realistic a goal it is.'
Natalie lowers her gaze for a moment, as she looks down towards the table; she then lifts her head back up, to make eye contact with Simon again.
Natalie: 'How are you feeling about having to go back to work on Monday?'
There is a slight grimace from Simon.
Simon: 'I can't deny that I would like to have more time off, but I'm not dreading the post-Christmas return to the office as much as some of my friends are.'
Natalie: 'Well, I'm looking forward to going back to the US, the week after next - that is, assuming that I'm on the card for the FGA show in Poughkeepsie, two weeks tomorrow.'
Simon: 'After having been back at home for over a month, you won't find it a wrench to leave then, when the time comes?'
Natalie: 'No, not at all; I want to get back in the ring - I want to get back to FGA.'
Natalie frowns.
Natalie: 'Why do you ask?'
Simon: 'You remember what happened, when I was back in Cardiff for a couple of months, last spring, don't you? Being back here, in my adopted hometown, I was reminded of the things that I had been missing out on while I was living on the other side of the Atlantic.'
Natalie: 'And that made you want to leave Vegas, to move back here - yes, Simon, I remember.'
Now it is Natalie's turn to let out a sigh.
Natalie: 'I'm not going to try to pretend that, when I'm in the US, I don't miss seeing my family, and seeing my friends. And yes, I've enjoyed being able to spend some time with them in the past few weeks. But I'm serious about wanting to forge a career for myself in wrestling - in FGA, I have such an opportunity, and I aim to take it.'
Simon: 'Well, good; any feelings of homesickness would only be detrimental to your attempts to be successful in FGA.'
Natalie: 'I was never homesick when I was at university - why would I be any different when I'm away, competing in FGA?'
Simon: 'Because, when you were at university, you weren't thousands of miles away.'
Natalie: 'That's true, I suppose. But like I said, I've not suffered at all from homesickness while I've been in the US - so it's a moot point, anyway.'
Just then, a waitress appears, carrying two plates of food.
Waitress: 'The full meaty.'
The waitress places Simon's meal on the table.
Simon: 'Thank you.'
Waitress: 'And a chicken salad.'
The waitress places Natalie's meal on the table.
Natalie: 'Thank you.'
The waitress then puts two sets of cutlery on the table, before walking away.
Simon: 'The line-up for the event in Poughkeepsie will be released by FGA when - Sunday? Monday?'
Natalie: 'Should be Monday, at the latest.'
Simon picks up a fork, which he points towards Natalie with.
Simon: 'Is there anyone in particular on the roster that you would like to have a match with?'
Natalie: '
If I'm included on the show, then I'll just be glad to return to action; I'll take whichever opponent - or opponents - that I'm given.'
Natalie picks up her knife and fork.
Simon: 'Maybe your opponent will be Jimmy Page.'
Natalie: 'Could be.'
As the Natalie and Simon tuck into their respective meals, the scene fades away to a blank, black screen; Natalie's voice is then heard.
Natalie: 'He just had to say it, didn't he? He had to go and open his big mouth.'
There is a marked pause, before Natalie speaks again.
Natalie: 'Fine; Jimmy Page it is, then.'
The scene fades in to show part of the London Aquatics Centre - a venue in Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park - on the morning of Monday 12th January. The part of the facility that is currently in view, is the area where the training pool is housed. Stood to the side of the pool, wearing a pair of dark grey leggings and a yellow sleeveless hoodie - with the hood down - is Natalie McKinley.
Natalie puts her hands on her hips; she then begins to speak.
Natalie: 'It has been thirty-seven days since I last set foot inside a ring for anything more than a sparring session - thirty-seven days since my most recent match in FGA. In that time, I have been back at home in the UK, celebrating Christmas and the New Year, with my family and my friends. But the holidays only accounts for a portion of the past five weeks - there have been plenty of days during that period when I haven't known what to do with myself. I mean, while I have still been in the gym almost every day - as is normal for me - that only takes up part of each day, and so I have then had to try to find other ways to occupy myself. And that's because something notable has been missing from my life for much of the past five weeks - wrestling has been missing.'
Natalie takes her hands off her hips.
Natalie: 'Admittedly, I haven't been cut off entirely from wrestling in the past five weeks, as I have kept an eye on the goings-on in FGA. I've also attended some events: just last night, I attended a show in Birmingham, that was staged by another promotion - which came four weeks after I had attended another event here in the UK: the final Pro-Wrestling FRONTIER show of last year. But that is was has left me a bit frustrated, as in the past month or so, I have been reduced to being little more than a spectator in the world of professional wrestling, while I eagerly await my next match. Thankfully, that wait won't go on for much longer, as in just five days' from now, I will be back inside an FGA ring. And my opponent for my first match in six weeks? The man that - right now - is the most challenging opponent that I could have possibly asked for: Jimmy Page.'
Natalie taps her chin with her right index finger.
Natalie: 'At the last show - nine days ago, in Lowell - Jimmy Page asked for a few pebbles to be thrown his way. Well, I guess the powers that be in FGA took notice of that request, because this coming Saturday, when Page looks across the ring at me, he will see arguably one of the smallest pebbles on the FGA beach standing opposite him.'
Natalie grins for a moment, but then sighs, before continuing.
Natalie: 'Prior to the show in Lowell, I heard Aidan Collins talk about "basic bitches." Listening to Collins' diatribe, as he discussed Mia Scott and Noelle Smith, it was like listening to a stable of female wrestlers I've encountered from another promotion - a group who call themselves the "Mean Girls;" I've been referred to by them as "basic," the "muscly basic" - two days ago, one of them even described my homeland as being basic. But while the Mean Girls call me basic because their behaviour is patterned after a film from a decade ago, if Aidan Collins was to refer me as basic, I guess that he would he would have in mind my lack of accomplishments in wrestling.'
Natalie gives a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders.
Natalie: 'But then, I'm only a rookie; so far in my career, I've only wrestled in six matches - that's only three more than the number of matches that Jimmy Page has successfully defended the FGA World Championship in, since he won the title.'
Natalie crouches down, beside the pool.
Natalie: 'Maybe I am a basic bitch - or a pebble. What does anyone expect of me, this Saturday? I've been picked up out of the pool for beginners...'
The scene changes abruptly, to show Natalie crouched next to another swimming pool - the competition pool, in the main pool hall of the Aquatics Centre.
Natalie: '...and thrown into the deep end.'
Natalie stands up.
Natalie: 'Last week, someone on Twitter suggested that my match with Jimmy Page would be a great way for me to prove my worth - and I suppose it could be. But it could also be a great way for me to prove myself to the fans, and to the other wrestlers. At present, when people look at the line-up for an FGA show, and they see my name on there, what do they think - do they actually think anything?'
Again, there is a slight shrug of the shoulders from Natalie.
Natalie: 'I doubt that me being involved in an event helps persuade fans to buy tickets for that show. Now sure, I had the backing of the fans in my past two matches, but I think that was mainly due to my opponents in those matches being wrestlers that are disliked by the fans. And so I want to develop a rapport with the fans - I want them to cheer me, but not only that, I want to know that I can count upon their support, whoever my opponent is. But first, I need to give them a reason to want to cheer me - an impressive performance against Jimmy Page could be such a reason.'
Natalie looks down at the floor.
Natalie: 'And as for the other wrestlers - the other members of the FGA roster...'
Natalie's voice trails off; after a couple of seconds have passed, she raises her to look back at the camera, and continues.
Natalie: 'I want to be deserving of their respect; I want to get to the stage where when someone sees that I'm their next opponent, they know - whatever the outcome of the match may be - that they'll be in for a tough contest. Again, performing well against Jimmy Page can help me towards that.'
Natalie turns away from the camera, towards the pool.
Natalie: 'You know, two and a half years ago, during the 2012 Olympics, a friend of mine was fortunate enough to attend a session of the swimming here. He came here hoping to see the home favourite, Rebecca Adlington, win gold in the 800 metre freestyle; instead, though, Adlington was upstaged by Katie Ledecky. Someone else my friend saw swim that night - who won gold, as expected - was Michael Phelps win gold; that particular race came just a few days after Phelps had suffered a surprise defeat, when he was beaten by Chad le Clos, in the 200 metre butterfly.'
Natalie turns back to face the camera.
Natalie: 'How many people expected Ledecky to beat Adlington? Not many. How many people expected le Clos to beat Phelps? Even less. How many people expect me to beat Jimmy Page? Probably none. But expectations are there to be defied; I know that the odds of me winning on Saturday would appear to be long ones - but that won't stop me from trying to spring a surprise.'
Natalie turns her head to look in the direction of the pool once more.
Natalie: 'I'm aiming to prove myself to be a diamond on a beach of wet pebbles.'
Natalie smiles, as she continues to look towards the swimming pool. Within a matter of seconds, though, the scene changes again, to a day later, with Natalie sat, legs crossed, on a single bed - which is covered in plain green bedding - in a room at Americana Inn, in Manhattan; Natalie is now wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, and an orange long sleeve t-shirt. On the near side of the bed is a nightstand, on top of which is a lamp, a small vase containing some flowers, and a telephone; on the far side of the bed is a brown armchair, while beyond the armchair, in the background of the shot, are window blinds, which are partially open, allowing some natural light into the room.
Also perched on the bed, in front of Natalie, is a laptop; Natalie presses a button on the laptop, and the next sound to be heard is the voice of Sylvester Stallone, in character as Rocky Balboa:
Natalie presses another button on the laptop, silencing it; she then turns her head to look at the camera.
Natalie: 'If I lose to Jimmy Page in Poughkeepsie, what effect would that have on my standing in FGA? The venue for the fight between Rocky Balboa and Apollo Creed was the Spectrum, which is appropriate, because Jimmy Page and I are at opposite ends of the spectrum in FGA - if I lose to Page, I doubt that it would have too harmful an effect on my immediate prospects in FGA. And so like Rocky said about his fight with Apollo Creed, it doesn't really matter if I lose this match. But what if I was to actually win on Saturday - how big a boost would that be to my career? I know just what a win over Jimmy Page could do for my reputation in FGA.'
Another grin creeps across Natalie's face.
Natalie: 'So, I go into this match with nothing to lose, and everything to gain. I'm not afraid to lose - everybody already expects me to lose, anyway. And so, with me having no fear of losing, I can promise that I will give this match against Jimmy Page everything that I've got, and take every chance that I can, in my efforts to try to emerge victorious.'
Natalie uncrosses her legs; she then turns in the direction of the camera, to sit with her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, and her feet resting on the floor.
Natalie: 'While my last two matches have both been successful outings for me, my opponents in each of those matches seemed to be a bit below par. However, it would be foolish of me to expect someone of the standard of Jimmy Page to underperform in a similar way. But even if Page isn't at his best on Saturday evening - and even if I do give the match "everything that I've got" - will that still be enough for me to pick up the win?'
Natalie stands up.
Natalie: 'This past weekend, when I tweeted that I was watching Rocky, Jimmy Page retorted that the philosophy of the film is, "Beat your head against a wall hard enough and it'll fall." But the recent record of Page himself would appear to disprove that theory - it has been six and a half months since Page won the FGA World Championship, and no-one has been able to defeat him in a one-on-one match: Dom Harter couldn't do it; Cordy Stevenson couldn't do it; and Riley Owens couldn't do it - at Final Frontier, Owens hit Page with pretty much everything but the kitchen sink, and yet he still couldn't keep the champion down for a count of three. So what do
I have to do, to defeat Jimmy Page?'
Natalie runs her left hand through her hair.
Natalie: 'Or better yet, what do I
need, to defeat Jimmy Page?'
As Natalie stands looking towards the camera, the scene then changes once more, to show Natalie stood outside the entrance to a cinema; Natalie is still wearing the same jeans, but she now has on a black parka, over her t-shirt.
Natalie quickly glances upwards, before looking to the camera, as she begins to speak again.
Natalie: 'It might sound as though I'm pessimistic about my chances of winning on Saturday - but I would argue that I'm just being realistic. Whatever impression I'm giving to those of you watching this video, perhaps I should make this clear: I'm not going to arrive in Poughkeepsie with the intention of losing - I know that I'm going to have my work cut out for me, against the FGA World Champion, but I'm still hopeful of causing an upset; if I'm not able to beat Jimmy Page, it won't be for the want of trying.'
Natalie nods her head.
Natalie: 'I believe that I can beat Jimmy Page. But what
will I need, if I am to defeat him? Well, I'll need to put in the best performance of my short career. And, I'll need the support of the fans. But there are probably some cynics that think I'll need something greater - like, say, a miracle.'
Natalie looks upwards again.
Natalie: 'In which case, I've come to the right place.'
Natalie lowers her head, to look back towards the camera.
Natalie: 'Do you believe?'
The camera then pans up, and into view comes this sign:
The camera focuses on the sign for a few seconds, before the scene fades to black.