Courted

This return has been a long time coming.

The last time anyone saw Lindsay Troy on TV was in early 2017 when she lost the FIST of DEFIANCE to Curtis Penn and reaggravated a neck injury first brought on by a war with her brother-in-law, Dan Ryan. She also, as bad luck would have it, suffered an elbow injury in the Legacy of Champions courtesy of a mauling by a petulant Kaus and his stable, The House, at Legends 27.

It would take awhile for these injuries, both physical and familial, to heal; the physical happening much faster than the familial.

Any Lindsay Troy fan worth their crown knows that family is the most important thing in her life. More important than the business. Way, way more important than any money, fame, or reputation that comes along with it. Never one to embrace the word “retirement,” she’s rebuked the connotation of finality that’s attached to it. Instead, any long stretches of time taken away from the ring she loves so dear has always been talked away as a “semi-permanent hiatus,” dismissed with a wink and a trademark Troy smirk.

No matter the reason or its severity, whether it’s something to happen to her or to someone she loves, Lindsay Troy always, always comes back.

————-

 

It’s nice to be courted.

Fade-in: Lindsay Troy, dressed smartly in a suit and heels, seated in a plush chair in a living room.

It’s nice to know that after all these years, the Machiavelli of the Midway still has my lawyer’s number saved and still thought highly enough of me to give it a ring after deciding to wake the Sleeping Beauty known as High Octane Wrestling from her three-year slumber.

Congratulations, Lee. [Troy spreads her arms wide.] The stars aligned, the heavenly choir sang, and, even though Mercury went retrograde, I decided to throw caution to the wind and finally do this damn thing. I know I kept you waiting awhile. I hope you didn’t think me rude, saying “no” all those times before.

I’d apologize but… [she smiles] …that’s not my style. You got me now. That’s what matters.

What also matters is that you’re not giving me some schlub plucked from the Hinterlands as my first opponent. No, you gave me one of the HOW boys.

A nod, and an imaginary tip of her cap.

Touché, salesman.

Troy smirks, then continues.

Scott Stevens, let’s get a couple things straight right off the bat, because I heard your radio interview and you need some things cleared up before you think it wise to do another one of those.

Call it my act of charity for the week.

One, I am taking you seriously. Why wouldn’t I? This is what I get paid to do. If you think some other people don’t take you seriously, shove your fist down their mouth so hard their teeth will be forced to chew their ass out. That’s what you get paid to do.

I’m not going to sit here, tonight, and clown you.

Two, I don’t give a shit about your speculations as to why, or why I haven’t, been in High Octane Wrestling until this very moment. I do what I damn well please for the reasons I want or need and I sure as hell don’t answer to you.

I’m an institution and a known figure in the circles you and I run in. I stand as a living edifice after the sands have stripped and washed away the marvels of Ozymandias. For me, you’re a grain of sand, Stevens. Hell, even beating me, as some “retired hack”…doesn’t matter.

After all, aren’t I just an “old timer” now? Where’ve I been the last two years? Surely nowhere THE GREAT SCOTT STEVENS would know of or care about, so it clearly doesn’t matter, right?

But even if that were true, nobody would ever say or dare to think that Scott Stevens, even if he beat me fifty times in a row, is able to ascend to my level. Because while I was out making a name for myself, winning all those belts those shock jocks rattled off, and beginning what would become known as Lee Best’s Great Chase, you were doing…who the fuck knows what. Competing in some try-hard Alphabet Soup companies that nobody actually gives a shit about?

You beating me would be the greatest accomplishment you would ever have.

It’s true that I haven’t been out on the road in a couple years. But don’t think for a second that you’re going to get a Lindsay Troy that’s all out of sorts and out of shape. You’re not the only one who’s in the business of directing the careers of up-and-comers, and not only have I been doing it for years, but I’ve made it a point to stay ring fit and fight ready at the same time.

At this point, my only foes are time and younger versions of myself.

It sure as hell isn’t you.

And it sure as hell never will be.

Cut to black.

Roleplay Countdown

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