Jessica didn't really like interviews that much. She avoided them whenever she could. It was a waste of time for a woman who could do all the talking that she wanted to with a bat and a chain and her fists, and nothing else. But tonight, she had a plan coming. She was wearing a leather jacket with a black tank top underneath. Her jeans were skin tight, and she rounded off her outfit with black Converses. The look in her eye told everyone who looked at her everything that they needed to know, and the baseball bat she had over her shoulder provided the lovely coda to her ensemble. And the shiny belt that she had around her waist told everyone exactly who she was. With a wicked smile, she burst into the room and plopped herself into the chair. The interviewer was more than a little taken aback.

Someone who must have been very brave affixed the mic to her, and the lights told her that the camera was rolling. She sat almost sideways in the chair, with one leg draped over one armrest and her arms hanging down from the other. The interviewer adjusted a little bit in her seat. She was nervous. Jessica very much liked the fact that she was nervous. Despite the fact that she looked nothing short of insouciant, she knew that she was in control.

"So, Jessica, you've never sat for an interview." The interviewer spoke softly.

Jessica waited. She tilted her head a little bit, and narrowed her eyes. She didn't say anything. A cameraman shuffled nervously.

"Uh, Jessica?" The interviewer stammered.

"You didn't ask a question." Jessica's words came out fast and sharp, a quick staccato that oozed with venom.

"Oh, uh, right. So, what prompted you to sit down with us today?" The interviewer was leaning a bit forward now. When Jessica brought the baseball bat back up to her shoulder, she leaned back a little bit, prompting a snicker from Jessica.

"Oh, the people just fucking love me. So I thought I would give them a taste of what they want. The champion, the fucking hardcore champion, always has a right to say what they want, and I have a lot on my mind." Jessica sat up a little bit more upright in her chair, getting rid of the laze she had just displayed.

"Uh, yeah, we can all see that. What exactly do you have on your mind, Jessica?" The interviewer looked a little bit more easygoing now, which Jessica sought to put an end to by sitting up all the way and leaning in.

"You don't know what it is like. None of the other wrestlers know what it is like." Jessica paused for a second. Her whole life flashed in front of her eyes, it seemed, and Jessica started anew with vigor. "None of the other bitches here knows what it is like to get your ass kicked in some tiny ass town in Iowa in front of a dozen people. None of the other bitches here knows what it is like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders since the day you were born. None of the other bitches here knows what it is like to put in the hours I have, in the gym and on the mat and in hell." Jessica gripped the handle of her baseball bat a little bit tighter now. It would be easy to think that it was for her to calm herself down, but the reality was quite the opposite. It made her feel like she was capable of tremendous violence.

"Miss Wright?" Jessica was standing up now, and the cameras followed her.

"I didn't get this belt," Jessica pointed to her hardcore title, "because I was playing nice with people. I didn't wait for my turn alongside some little 90 pound fairy, begging for the scraps that got thrown out by management. No one was going to give me anything. I am too mean, too fucked up, too much. No, if I wanted something, I had to take it. I always had to take it. In all the fancy fucking wrestling schools, they show you how to do this throw and that submission. But they don't show you desire. Pure, hellbent passion, where you are going to do whatever it takes to get this fucking strap." Jessica pointed at her belt again. Rage crackled across her face. "And that's why I have the belt. And no one else on fucking earth is going to take it from me."

"Oh my, that's uh..." The interviewer started back up. Jessica interrupted her.

"But I am going to show you. And Alexia. And Karen. And whoever else is dumb enough to step into the arena soon. Because not a fucking one of you knows what it is like, but I am going to show you. I am going to show every last one of you what it is like to live in hell. It is going to be painful, and it is going to be rough, and it is going to be excruciating. It may even be the end of some of you." Jessica was standing up, pacing back and forth, glaring at the interviewer. The interviewer looked genuinely scared.

"I'm not going to tell you when. I am not going to tell you how. But I will tell you that you haven't seen anything like what is about to go down at AFW. Who knows? Someone like you may wind up getting hurt." Jessica placed the side of the baseball bat against the interviewer's head. She was now shivering. "But I promise you, you are going to want to watch." Jessica swung the baseball bat into the light, causing it to shatter. Glass flew everywhere. With that, she turned and left the room, the baseball bat still over her shoulder.