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+----- Thread: Dexter Grant vs. Kimberly Williams (/showthread.php?tid=4555)
Dexter Grant vs. Kimberly Williams - Konrad Raab - 09-15-2025
SCW Adrenaline Championship
Shot of Adrenaline Tournament Match
2 RP Limit for singles
3500 Word Per RP
Deadline: 11:59:59 pm ET Saturday, September 20, 2025
RE: Dexter Grant vs. Kimberly Williams - The Matt - 09-16-2025
1 of 2
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September 13th, 2025
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
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Apocalypse is now just a week away. Kimberly Williams has already earned two points in the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament with a victory over Chris Dumont. It wasn’t the kind of victory she had hoped for; she ‘earned’ the victory via disqualification when Dexter Grant attacked her. This was all part of Dexter’s plan to ensure that he gets his opportunity to reclaim the Adrenaline Title at Apocalypse. Grant is obviously still fuming over the fact that The Woman Scorned defeated him at Rise To Greatness to win the championship in the first place. The fact that he is being forced to take part in the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament has only made him angrier. Kimberly, on the other hand, is getting a kick out of it all. She has enjoyed driving him crazy by kidnapping Wendell, taking the championship, and taunting him by trying to make the championship its very own social media mega star. Yet as entertaining as it is to taunt, mock, and deride Dexter Grant at every turn, Kimberly knows that the time for fun and games will have to come to an end when SCW Apocalypse rolls into Toronto. The Queen of the Death Match may have the outward appearance of being a fun-loving clown, but she is proud of what she has accomplished, she is proud of what she does, and she wants to retain that Adrenaline Championship at Apocalypse in the rematch against Grant. What’s more, she wants to prove that she can run the gauntlet of the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament. She has two points, which is a good start, but she needs to prove that those two points were no fluke. She needs to earn these next two points and put herself in a really good position to advance further in the tournament.
Dexter Grant and the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament aren’t the only things occupying the mind of The Woman Scorned at this present time. Kimberly Williams has recently discovered that a group of wealthy individuals in the community might have been involved with her grandfather, Bart Jones. They are known as The Athenian Fellowship and if you ask them, they are just a club, a group of friends who get together to hang out and do some occasional good service for the community. If you ask others, they are a secret society with some other insidious, nefarious agenda. After reading some of her grandfather’s journals, Kimberly suspects that the latter may very well be true. After all, Bart Jones joined The Athenian Fellowship not because he wanted to or because he liked anyone in the group; he was asked by the federal government to infiltrate the group. So if the authorities believe strongly enough to send one of their very own to infiltrate the organization, then something must be suspicious. For whatever reason, Bart never did get to finish his investigation. Kimberly has made it her quest to finish what her grandfather started.
And so the eccentric ginger finds herself in the hallowed halls of the estate owned by The Athenian Fellowship, the sprawling mansion where they hold their secretive meetings. The long, echoing hallway stretched before Kimberly Williams like a passage carved into another age. Her boots tapped softly against the marble floor, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the thick Persian carpets that lay like islands of color beneath her steps. Kimberly’s red hair caught the glow of the chandeliers overhead, each crystal prism scattering warm light across her features as she followed closely behind Camilla Aldridge. The older woman moved with a grace that seemed both deliberate and effortless, her tall frame cloaked in a flowing gown of dark silk that whispered faintly with every step. The hall itself was an exhibit of wealth and heritage: gilded mirrors reflected endless rows of oil portraits, their eyes seeming to track the women as they passed; delicate sconces shaped like curling vines clutched candle-shaped bulbs, giving the illusion that the walls themselves held fire. Kimberly’s gaze darted along the details as she trailed Camilla, equal parts curious and uneasy, aware she was stepping deeper into a world that was not her own.
“Where we going, Cammy?” Kim asks playfully. “Are you taking me to the human sacrifice room?”
“Sorry, Kimberly, but we do not perform human sacrifice.” Camilla remarks with a low chuckle. Kim pouts.
“Oh drat. I was looking forward to it!”
“I know you are just joking…” Camilla says, her voice trailing off. Kimberly winks back at her.
“Maybe I am…”
“Yes, you are. But believe me, Kimberly, I am taking you somewhere far better than anything you could hope for.”
“Wait a sec…” Kim’s eyes grow wide “...you have a Burger King in this place, don’t you?”
“No.”
“A bouncy house?”
“No.” Camilla shakes her head.
“Well then what good is any of this anyway?” Kimberly whines. “I joined fully expecting either world domination, pancakes, or bouncy houses. So far I’ve gotten none of it!!”
“Just be patient.” Camilla rolls her eyes. It is clear that she is growing frustrated with Kim’s antics. Williams, for her part, is enjoying driving Camilla crazy, especially since she suspects Camilla may be up to no good.
“So what is it then, Cammy? What could be better than world domination, pancakes, or a bouncy house?”
“As a member of The Athenian Fellowship, you get access to arguably one of the greatest libraries in Massachusetts.” Camilla remarks with a sense of pride and condescending arrogance. “So much wealth and knowledge resides within this library.”
“Oh…” Kim yawns “...wake me when it’s over.”
The air grew cooler as they approached a heavy set of double doors at the far end of the corridor. Each one was carved from dark oak, their surfaces alive with intricate reliefs of mythical creatures and floral motifs, the artistry of another century etched into their very grain. Camilla paused briefly, her slender fingers brushing across the bronze handles as if reacquainting herself with an old companion before she pushed the doors open with a strength that belied her age. The hinges groaned faintly, and then the space beyond revealed itself in full splendor. Kimberly felt her breath catch as the sheer magnitude of the library engulfed her senses. The room was a cathedral to knowledge and refinement. Towering shelves stretched from polished parquet floors to vaulted ceilings lost in shadow, each one sagging beneath the weight of leather-bound tomes and gilded spines. The scent of aged paper, wax polish, and faint smoke from the distant fireplace gave the chamber an atmosphere both venerable and alive. Massive windows, draped with heavy burgundy curtains tied back in thick golden cords, let in slender shafts of daylight that danced across the mahogany tables arranged in careful symmetry. An ornate globe, large enough to be a centerpiece of its own, stood on a brass pedestal near the entrance, its oceans faded to pale blue and its continents edged with antique lettering. Above, a fresco adorned the ceiling—gods and muses painted in sweeping brushstrokes, their faces serene as if guarding the knowledge below.
Camilla’s footsteps barely disturbed the hush that lingered within the walls. She glided across the rug that stretched down the center of the chamber, a tapestry of royal blues and greens, while Kimberly followed with more tentative steps, her green eyes sweeping the vast collection around her. For a moment, the younger woman felt dwarfed by it all; not only by the size of the room but by the weight of history it carried. The fire at the far end crackled softly in its marble hearth, sending gentle waves of warmth through the room and casting golden light against the shelves. High-backed chairs upholstered in rich velvet were arranged before it, a setting that promised conversation, revelations, or perhaps something heavier still. Camilla slowed her pace as they neared that space, her movements deliberate, as if she wished Kimberly to absorb every detail of the chamber before they reached the place where words would be exchanged. Kimberly’s pulse quickened, though she masked it with composure. She knew instinctively that whatever was to be discussed in this sanctuary of intellect and power would not be trivial.
“Now look, Kimberly.” Camilla remarks as she scans the library herself, impressed despite having seen this over and over again. “Are you not impressed?”
“Eh, not really.” Kimberly shrugs her shoulders.
“Seriously?”
“I mean, it’s cool and all, if books are your thing.”
“So much wealth and knowledge is contained within these walls.” Camilla insists. “This is what The Athenian Fellowship is about…knowledge. How could you not want this?”
“Does it have the necronomicon?”
“The what?!” Camilla exclaims.
“It’s a book that can summon satan and zombies.” Kim grins from ear to ear. “If you have that book I would definitely be interested in that. See, there’s this demon I accidentally summoned and it ripped me off. It owes me five dollars and…”
“Stop…” Camilla shakes her head, her frustration starting to boil over “...just stop.”
“Awwww, what’s wrong, Cammy?”
“You!” Camilla exclaims. “You are not taking any of this seriously!”
“To be fair, I don’t take much of anything seriously.”
“But please, Kimberly, try to think of the knowledge and wisdom contained within these books. Knowledge is power, Kimberly. The information you can gain from reading these priceless tomes, it is worth more than any championship you could ever win in your wrestling career.”
“You do know that I am the reigning SCW Adrenaline Champion…HKW Bloodlust Champion…5 Lakes World Tag Team Champion…and Valiant World Champion, right?” Kim snickers. Camilla sighs and shakes her head.
“Yes but there is so much more you can learn and achieve!” Camilla places a hand on her shoulder. “I had such high hopes and aspirations for you, Kimberly. I hope I didn’t make a mistake in letting you join The Athenian Fellowship.”
There are times when even Kimberly recognizes that maybe she has gone too far. This is one of those times. Kimberly cannot afford to lose Camilla’s trust, not when she is this close to learning the truth. Williams decides to dial back some of her insanity.
“Don’t worry, Cammy. You never make mistakes and you certainly didn’t make a mistake with me.” Kim winks playfully. “I may be a little eccentric but that’s what you like about me, isn’t it? I got rid of that annoying little pest Karen, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Camilla nods her head.
“Trust me, I may act a little strange from time to time, but I am definitely committed to The Athenian Fellowship.”
“Do you mean?”
“Cross my hearts hope to die!”
“Hearts? As in plural?” Camilla furrows her brow in confusion.
“Just joking!”
“Fine.” Camilla smiles warmly. “Just know that you have been given a gift, Kimberly. This library itself is a gift of knowledge, a never ending fountain of information and wisdom, all at your hands.”
“And I can visit anytime I want?”
“Of course.” Camilla says. “You are a member, you can visit anytime.”
==========
September 14th, 2025
Boston, Massachusetts
Off Camera
==========
Little did she know it, but Camilla Aldridge made a bit of a mistake. She never should have told someone as deranged as Kimberly Williams that she can visit the impressive Athenian Fellowship library anytime she wants, because Kim will take that very literally. In this case, she has returned at midnight when the entire city of Massachusetts is dead silent. She believes every word Camilla said is true; this place does contain knowledge, wisdom, and information. Kim hopes it also contains secrets that her grandfather also was looking for. Kim hopes that maybe this library may be the key to finishing the investigation Bart Jones began oh so long ago. This is what brings her back to the estate; the long hallways stripped of their earlier warmth and now cloaked in shadows that pooled beneath every arch and portrait. Her footsteps were nearly soundless against the carpet, her senses sharpened by the thrill of secrecy. She had chosen her attire with a deliberate touch of mischief and purpose; a tweed coat with deep lapels, a houndstooth waistcoat, trousers tucked neatly into polished boots, and a deerstalker cap perched atop her flame-red hair. A lantern hung lightly from her gloved hand, though she carried it low, careful not to cast its glow too far ahead. The look was half homage, half disguise, as though she could channel the spirit of Sherlock Holmes to steady her nerves for what she was about to do.
“Kimlock Holmes is on the case!” She proclaims. “No one will escape justice!”
When she reached the great oak doors of the library, their carved beasts seemed more menacing in the muted moonlight filtering through the nearby windows. Kimberly paused, listening to the quiet of the house, then pressed gently against one of the doors. The hinges groaned softly, but the vast chamber beyond greeted her with the same stately hush as before. She slipped inside, letting the heavy door close behind her with a muffled thud, and for an instant she felt like an intruder in a sanctum too old and too proud to be disturbed. The library had transformed with the night. By day, its shelves and frescoed ceilings had glowed in warm tones of firelight and sun, but now the tall windows admitted only silver slivers of moonlight through the parting of their velvet curtains. The shadows of towering bookcases stretched across the floor like long black fingers, broken only where her lantern’s golden circle carved out a trembling island of light. The scent of leather, parchment, and lingering smoke hung heavier in the cool night air, giving the room a quality both intimate and secretive.
Kimberly moved carefully between the long tables, her eyes scanning the rows of ancient spines and leather-bound volumes that gleamed faintly when the lantern passed over them. Her heart beat quicker than she cared to admit, the adrenaline of intrusion mingling with a peculiar sense of playfulness born from her costume. She carried herself with the air of a detective at work, studying the library not as a guest but as an investigator combing for clues hidden in plain sight. Every detail seemed sharper; the faint scuff on a chair leg, the way one book leaned forward from its shelf as if eager to be plucked, the glimmer of brass from the great globe near the entrance. Near the fireplace, the embers glowed faintly, banked low but still breathing enough life to paint the marble in hues of amber and red. The velvet chairs, empty and waiting, seemed to watch her as she passed, their high backs looming like silent sentinels. She kept her lantern close to her chest and continued deeper into the chamber, drawn toward the farthest shelves where the darkness seemed thickest, the air colder. Here, the library no longer felt like a stately room for leisure and learning; it was something older, a labyrinth of wood and silence where secrets might easily be buried, or uncovered.
“Now then,” she makes her way over to a bookshelf and looks at the spine of each book, reading and inspecting them carefully “if I were a clue containing top secret inflammatory information about these rich wackos, where would I be?” She plucks one book from the shelf and reads it out loud. “War and Peace by Tolstoy.” She snickers as she puts it back. She pulls another book and laughs again. “The freaking Communist Manifesto? You guys would have been wire tapped back during the red scare for having this. No wonder the feds had my grandfather looking in on you.” Williams puts it back. She reaches over to find another book. This one peaks her interest because she does not recognize it. “Failures…that’s the name? Failures?”
The Woman Scorned takes the book over to a nearby chair. She sits down and flips it open and begins reading. She finds that it contains names; nothing but names, some of the names she recognizes as people from the community. That in and of itself is odd; a book of names, names of people in the community. And she has no idea what they are doing listed in a book titled ‘failures’. She continues reading until she spots the name ‘Bart Jones’ on the list.
“Well isn’t this interesting…” suddenly she hears the library doors begin to open. This definitely wasn’t part of the plan. Kim takes the book with her and quickly finds a hiding place behind one of the larger bookshelves. The Woman Scorned tucks herself down within the shadows and listens as the doors shut. She hears footsteps approaching. The footsteps stop just at the chair Kim was sitting in just moments earlier. She takes a quick peak, hoping no one will see her; she has to know who else is here at the library at midnight.
It’s Camilla Aldridge and Grant Vito.
“I still think we should get rid of her.” Vito says firmly. “She is a loose cannon.”
“Kimberly Williams may be eccentric but she is no danger to us.” Camilla insists.
“You said that once about her grandfather and he nearly ruined us.”
Kim’s eyes grow wide as she hears this. So this is about Bart. Bart really did get close to discovering something about this organization, something they did not want the public to know. Williams keeps listening in, and she remains silent, hoping she will not be discovered.
“Bart Jones was far more capable and competent than Kimberly.” Camilla remarks. “Kim is just a foolish girl. She is a clown and she is only here because she feels emotionally drawn towards her grandfather. That’s all she wants. She wants to be close to her grandfather’s memory and she sees us as a means to that end. We can use that to our advantage and thus use her to accomplish our goals.”
“Are you confident you can keep her under control?” Vito asks.
“Kimberly is easily manipulated.” She says smugly. “Trust me, I have her wrapped around my finger.”
“Are you certain?” Vito asks skeptically. “This woman played a role in bringing down The Inner Peace Enlightenment cult a few years ago.”
“That group of sex obsessed freaks, you mean?”
“They may have been, but they were also untouchable. Yet somehow Ms. Williams ruined them.”
“Believe me, Vito, this is different. WE are different. Kimberly is of no concern.”
“I am going to trust you on this, Camilla.” Vito remarks. “But keep her on a tight leash. Understand?”
“I understand.”
Kimberly Williams is stunned at what she just heard. Before now she just had suspicions that this organization had some nefarious ulterior motive. She just had suspicions that they were up to no good. Now she has all but confirmed it by hearing it straight from Camilla Aldridge and Grant Vito themselves. Bart Jones was indeed a part of this group trying to learn their dirty secrets but they kicked him out before he could find out. Kimberly has now confirmed that they are up to no good. Still, what are they doing? What are they hiding? What is the plot?
RE: Dexter Grant vs. Kimberly Williams - Digitox - 09-18-2025
Was thankfully able to repurpose a lot of my original plans I wanted to use for the last PPV for this one.
RP 1:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/14mLNzbbcvw7vUupzzGZ3VNuUvaRHFLGuwODsNovvtGA/edit?usp=sharing
RE: Dexter Grant vs. Kimberly Williams - The Matt - 09-18-2025
2 of 2
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September 18th, 2025
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Off Camera
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The elevator ride had been smooth, silent but charged with the quiet weight of expectation. When the golden doors slid open onto the top floor of the Toronto high-rise, the Jones family stepped into a hushed corridor lined with thick cream carpet and gilded sconces. At the very end, their suite waited, its polished brass numbers gleaming under the light. Kimberly Williams was the first to move forward, swiping the key card with a casual flourish that betrayed more nerves than she cared to admit. The extravagance of this hotel suite was far more befitting her sister and mother’s tastes, not hers. But if they were to share a room on this trip to Toronto, this would have to do and Kim would have to grin and bear it. The Woman Scorned wore a fitted black leather jacket over a black penguin embroidered t-shirt, paired with slim jeans and ankle boots. Her hair, the same fiery shade she shared with her sister and mother, was worn loose, its waves rebelliously untamed, brushing her shoulders with an ease that matched her sharp, determined gaze.
By contrast, Marie Jones, Kimberly’s mirror image by blood but not by essence, entered behind her with the soft poise of someone born into refinement. Every gesture was composed, every step measured, as though the polished marble floors were a stage she had been trained all her life to command. Marie’s hair, styled into a smooth chignon, caught the light like copper spun into silk. Her attire reflected her taste for classic femininity: a cream-colored sheath dress with a subtle floral pattern embroidered near the hem, paired with a matching tailored coat draped elegantly over her shoulders. Nude heels lengthened her already graceful frame, and a string of pearls rested against her collarbone. Her entire presence exuded cultivated elegance, a deliberate counterpoint to Kimberly’s raw magnetism. Trailing behind them was Angelica Jones, their mother, a woman whose maturity had not diminished her radiance but refined it into something commanding and dignified. She wore a deep forest-green suit with a fitted blazer and a skirt that brushed just below the knee, accessorized with understated gold jewelry that shimmered in the warm light of the suite’s entryway. Angelica’s heels clicked softly on the marble as she stepped inside, her very presence drawing the eye with the practiced elegance of a woman who had long ago learned the art of leaving an impression.
The suite itself was a testament to luxury; sprawling, open, and designed to impress. The foyer opened into a living room where floor to ceiling windows framed a breathtaking panorama of Toronto’s skyline, the CN Tower piercing the evening sky like a sentinel among the glittering sea of lights. Plush cream-colored sofas with dark wood accents were arranged around a glass coffee table, where a vase of fresh white orchids added a delicate fragrance to the air. A Persian rug of deep burgundy and gold sprawled beneath, anchoring the space with warmth and richness. To the right, a polished mahogany dining table gleamed beneath a modern chandelier of crystal and chrome, already set with fine china and silver cutlery in anticipation of guests who might never arrive.
“This is just gorgeous…” Marie gushes “...you really found a great place here, Kim.”
“Don’t blame me for this insanity.” Kim whines, like a child who is being punished, or a captive being tortured. “Blame our mother. She picked this out.”
“You wanted to stay at some sleazy roach motel.” Angelica states. “You know, the kind where anything can and possibly will happen? Not very safe?”
“Oh but that’s the fun part!” Kim exclaims with a wide ear to ear grin. “The excitement of what might happen next!”
“You call possibly getting mugged or robbed exciting?” Marie rolls her eyes.
“Ok, well, you look at all the negatives, little Miss Pessimist, but think of the positives!” Kim insists. “If I were to get mugged or jumped or whatever, it would be the perfect opportunity for me to get a free sparring session in! Apocalypse is in a few days and I have to kick Dorkster’s ass again!”
“Sparring? Seriously?” Marie sighs as she points to herself and their mother. “That’s what we’re here for. We’re here to help you get through Apocalypse with the Adrenaline Championship.”
“I know you and mom mean well but you two don’t exactly fit the mold of a Dorkster Grant.” Kim points out. “If I am ever defending my title against a couple of Catholic school girls, I’ll give you a ring. Dorkster gives a mugger or psycho creep vibe. That’s the kinda person I need to spar against.”
“I understand what you’re saying, Kim, but let me put it to you this way…” Angelica says as she approaches her daughter and kisses her on the forehead “...you wanted me with you, right?”
“Uh-huh…”
“You wanted your sister to come along, right?”
“Uh-huh…”
“Then we’re staying here. Somewhere NICE. Not in a dump.” Angelica smirks knowingly. Kim sighs as she nods her head in defeat. She drops her bags on the floor and then flops down on a plush cream colored sofa, taking up the entirety of the sofa with her full frame. Angelica and Marie share a smile and a little bit of laughter before they, too, drop their bags on the floor and sit down on another sofa perpendicular to the one Kimberly now finds herself sprawled out on.
“I have to admit, I’m kinda surprised with you Kim.” Marie says.
“That’s me. Full of surprises.”
“Seriously.” Marie insists. “First you insisted that I come along. I thought having mom babysit you was enough of a pain, but you wanted me to hold onto your leash too? Then you decide to come into Toronto early.”
“What can I say? I love Canada! Lots of Maple Syrup!”
“No, that’s not it.” Marie shakes her head. “You can’t hide anything from me.”
“Hey!” Kim shoots straight up and glares at Marie, almost as if she is offended. “I WAS you! For a month! It got me thrown into a loony bin! So don’t say I can’t hide anything from you!”
“I think what your sister is trying to say is that something is wrong.” Angelica points out. “And quite frankly, I agree.”
“Of course you do.” Kim rolls her eyes. “You always agree with Marie, even though I do a better job at being Marie than Marie does.”
“You need to be serious, Kim, because your championship is in jeopardy.” Angelica points out. “You are defending the Adrenaline Title at Apocalypse against Dexter Grant and he is crazy obsessed with beating you.”
“And I am just plain crazy.” Kim snickers. “I’m his type!”
“Try and be serious, Kim.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head. “Not gonna happen. Look at my track record. When I take things seriously, I lose. Proven fact.” She narrows her gaze at Angelica. “Are you trying to make me lose?”
“No…” Angelica shakes her head “...God, Kim, sometimes you are frustrating.”
“Only sometimes? I need to work harder.”
“You’re distracted.” Marie chimes in, trying to break through to her identical twin. “Mom sees it and I see it. We’re just trying to get you to admit it. Does it have anything to do with Wasley and what Wendell did?”
“Whoa, hold on a second,” Kim shakes her head “you honestly think I am going to let myself go crazy nuts over what that buffoon and his bestie might do to Wasley?”
“Yes.” Angelica and Marie both say in unison. Kim folds her arms over here chest and pouts.
“You know, I would be very offended right now were it not for the fact that you’re absolutely right.”
“So that IS distracting you?”
“No!” Kim smirks devilishly. “It’s just motivation. Dorkster and Wendell gave me more motivation to maim that dweeb and end his pathetic career once and for all at Apocalypse. Beating him for the championship at Rise To Greatness was fun. Driving him crazy by taunting him and mocking him has been entertaining. But now? Now I’m going to maim him. Dorkster is going to be reminded why I am the Queen of the Death Match.”
“So you’re going to throw the rules out the window?” Angelica asks. “I know that losing by disqualification would allow you to keep the title, but you would be giving two free points in Shot of Adrenaline.”
“Well he gave me two free points on Breakdown. I would just be returning the favor!” Kim exclaims happily.
“Kim you’re…” Marie sighs “...actually you make a valid point.”
“Marie!” Angelica exclaims, shocked that her other daughter seemingly agrees with The Woman Scorned. Kim, for her part, is loving it.
“Oh come on, mom, Dorkster did the same kind of trashy crap, working the rules to his favor, in order to keep the Adrenaline Title when he was champion. What is wrong with me giving him a dose of his own medicine? Just because I get cheers I have to play by the rules? I am an agent of chaos. Chaos has no rules and neither do I. Dorkster is going down. Apocalypse will be his last shot at the title if I have any say so.”
“You sound confident.” Marie arches her brow. Kim nods her head.
“Of course I am confident! I beat his ass once, I’ll do it again! You two really worry too much. Maybe bringing you both along was a bad idea?”
Angelica and Marie exchange looks. They certainly cannot deny the confidence that seems to ooze from Kimberly Williams. She has been on an absolute tear in recent months. Currently she holds four championships in four separate promotions heading into SCW Apocalypse. She proudly calls herself Kimmy 4 Belts and looks to defend one of her four crowns in Toronto. But still, something seems amiss. Yet if her ongoing rivalry with Dexter Grant isn’t the problem, then what is? Just as she is about to speak, Angelica happens to notice something on the floor, something that had fallen from Kimberly’s bag when she dropped it onto the floor. Angelica bends over and picks it up.
“Well look at what I found…” Angelica holds the book up “...my dad’s journal.”
“Give that back!” Kim exclaims, reaching out and quickly snatching it out of her mother’s hand.
“Oh so that’s it.” Marie quickly catches on. “You are distracted with what’s going on back in Boston involving The Athenian Fellowship.”
“They’re weird, ok?” Kim shrugs her shoulders. “And maybe I kinda sorta overheard something that I wasn’t supposed to hear.”
“What do you mean?” Angelica asks.
“I snuck into their library late one night to see if I could anything about them. I wanted to see if I any of those books contained any of those secrets Bart was looking for; but before I could find anything Camilla Aldridge and Grant Vito showed up.”
“Did they see you?” Marie asks. Kim shakes her head.
“No, I hid. They had no idea I was there so I heard everything they said and they had a lot to say about yours truly.” She smirks, almost with a sense of pride. “Vito is actually afraid of me. He thinks I’m a loose cannon.”
“He’s not wrong.” Marie says with a chuckle.
“What does Camilla think?” Angelica asks.
“She thinks she can control me.” Kim shakes her head. “That’s her mistake. Vito wanted to kick me out because he thinks I’m unstable but Camilla has convinced him to let me stay for now.”
“Ok, that’s it.” Angelica shakes her head. “You really need to get away from that group.”
“I can’t.” Kim insists, shaking her head vehemently. “I am so damn close to figuring out what it was that Bart was after. I am so close to figuring out why the feds had Bart infiltrate that group.”
“It’s dangerous, Kim.” Angelica says. “Your grandfather was trained to do that kind of work. You’re not and you’re risking yourself.”
“But you don’t get it! Camilla and Vito all but admitted that they are…maybe even the whole group…is involved in some sort of criminal activity.”
“Then go to the authorities.” Marie says. “You’ve done your part, let the police take over.”
“I got nothing on them except what I heard.” Kim shakes her head. “I’ve come this far in my investigation and I cannot stop now.”
“Kim you’re stubborn and bullheaded.” Angelica shakes her head. “Just like my father, just like Bart.” Angelica chuckles. “That’s why I got so angry at him at times. I couldn’t stand that he would risk himself the way he did.”
“At least now I know where I get it from.” Kim snickers. “But you also know why I have to see this through. I need to finish this for Bart.”
“No, you don’t.” Angelica shakes her head. “But I also know that, like your grandfather, there’s no way I can talk sense into you. So just please try and be safe.”
==========
September 20th, 2025
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
On Camera
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We open in an outdoor setting framed by thick, dark-green shrubbery that fills the background with a lush, natural texture. A few moments later and we see Kimberly Williams stepping into the scene. The Woman Scorned is dressed in a striking and unconventional outfit inspired by the traditional uniform of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Her fitted scarlet red jacket, adorned with gold buttons and a belted waist, flares slightly at the hips, giving a structured and dramatic silhouette. She pairs it with navy blue shorts trimmed in white, which are accented by bold garter straps leading down to her thigh-high stockings. Her legs are further clad in dark stockings that transition seamlessly into tall, brown leather boots, worn with a rugged polish that grounds her look. A wide-brimmed, olive-green campaign hat rests on her head, completing the Mountie inspired theme. Her long, wavy red hair cascades down to past her shoulders. Williams has her SCW Adrenaline Championship title belt draped over her right shoulder. Her pose is confident, with one hand on her hip, projecting both authority and a touch of playfulness.
“My Kimmymaniacs are scattered all over the globe. Kimmymania is a phenomena like no other. You never know when yours truly will start trending. Heh, maybe that’s why ol’ Dorkster Grant hates me so damn much? But hey, Dorkster, you need to quit hating. Don’t be a hater. Embrace Kimmymania, because it’s going nowhere! Kimmymania is here to stay, even right here in Canada! And since SCW is traveling up north for Apocalypse, I figured it would be a great opportunity to indulge in my Canadian Kimmymaniacs culture. One of my Canadian fans made this outfit for me. What do ya think, Dorkster? Huh?” She reaches into one of her pockets and produces a cell phone. She holds it up to the camera. The phone has twitter…or X, whatever you want to call it now…pulled up. “As you can see, Dorkster, I’m Canadian Kimmy is already a big hit worldwide. I am already trending! When you were Adrenaline Champion, this title was devalued and degraded. No one cared because you did nothing to make it worthwhile. Hell, there were times I forgot who the Adrenaline Champion was.” Williams shakes her head.
“No more! Now that I am the Adrenaline Champion, this bad boy is getting far more air time and social media presence than ever before! This precious Addy isn’t collecting dust in your mother’s basement. It has a place of prominence next to Wasley the penguin, Caligula the hamster, my unicorn, and that half-eaten slice of pizza from several months ago.” She snickers knowingly. “But in all seriousness, Dorkster, I am proud to be the Adrenaline Champion. You thought I was a joke, Dorkster? I went into Rise To Greatness and beat your ass and took this championship away from you. Do you still think I’m a joke? I am one championship short of Supreme Championship status. Let that reality sink into your thick skull. I am one of the best to do it, not just in SCW but in professional wrestling period. But by all means, Dorkster, continue to look down on me. Continue to think of me as a joke. You thought of me as a joke and I beat you at Rise To Greatness. If you continue to think of me as a joke then beating you again at Apocalypse will be a walk in the park.” Kimberly spins around, letting the camera get a good shot of her Mountie costume. Then she points a finger at the camera.
“But you have been a very bad boy, Dorkster. Apparently you don’t take defeat very well because ever since you lost this championship to yours truly, you have went and robbed poor Chrissy Poo Dumont of two points in the Shot of Adrenalline Tournament, you committed Crimes Against Penguins, and then of course your slander against my good name. So we got one count of robbery…one count of assault…one count of slander…you’ve started quite the criminal enterprise, Dorkster. It’s a good thing I’m dressed up in the right outfit, the proper outfit necessary to bring about justice. Whine all you want about having to compete in Shot of Adrenaline, but all you’re doing is making enemies. You robbed Chrissy Poo not only of two points but potentially the title.” She shakes her head. “I wouldn’t want to be you, Dorkster. If you continue at this rate you’re going to have seven people who will want your head on a pike. So tell me, how fast can you run? You are committing crimes against everyone in Shot of Adrenaline and its up to moi to make you pay.”
“And you honestly believe that you can get under my skin by attacking Wasley?” Kim throws her head back and laughs nastily. “Forget it! All you’ve done is provide extra motivation. You’ve given me even more reason to not just beat you, not just humble you again, but to maim you, to rip your damn head off. You are going to find that your brilliant plan has backfired. Your crimes against Wasley, of assault, will be paid when I tear you apart in Toronto at Apocalypse.” The Woman Scorned holds up three fingers. “But then there’s count number three, slander against my good name. You continue to think that I am a joke. I honestly don’t care what you think. I will do what I want and say what I want and act as obnoxious as I want and enjoy every single moment of it! Why? Because I don’t do this for idiots like you. I do this for my fans, for the Kimmymaniacs who have been with me in this fight through thick and thin each and every step of the way! My Kimmaniacs have always believed in me! Their opinion counts, not yours!” A wicked grin forms on her face.
“Yet, the fact that you don’t believe in me, the fact that you still think that I am a joke, it will bite you in the ass, Dorkster. You held this Adrenaline Title but to you it was just a meaningless prop. You spat in the face of every single wrestler who came before you because you didn’t give two craps about this great title. Unlike you, I hold this title with the respect it deserves. Do I take this seriously? Damn right I do and don’t forget it.” The Adrenaline Champion sneers. “You’d think losing the Adrenaline Championship on the grandest stage, at Rise To Greatness, would be enough to humble you. You would think that it would be enough to make you change your ways. Yet here you are, doing the same old crap, committing the same old crimes and expecting different results. That is the definition of insanity, by the way; doing the same things over and over and expecting different results. Trust me, I would know, I am certifiably insane. So I know insane and you, Dorkster, are definitely insane. The difference between you and me is that I have taken my insanity, my chaos, and I have embraced it. I have mastered the art of using my insanity and my chaos to my advantage. Meanwhile you’re just throwing crap against the wall and hoping it sticks. Unfortunately for you, Apocalypse is your last chance. I am going to put you away for good. I am going to send you packing back to your mommy’s basement, Dorkster, as punishment for your crimes.”
RE: Dexter Grant vs. Kimberly Williams - Digitox - 09-20-2025
RP 2:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1aU_rk4TKeyGiqsoDZmIKNijL5nlgBSp_8umPLFwrIzs/edit?usp=sharing