YouTube is filled with content creators from all walks of life expressing their opinions on a wide range of topics. In today’s landscape almost anyone’s opinion can be broadcast, and as such, a digital revolution was born.

Corporations, specifically those in the entertainment industry, are never excused from fair criticism.

The following is an excerpt from one of these broadcasts, started about 1/3rd of the way through the video.

Cindy Chavez (via YouTube Podcast) : …and while the show overall has been good thus far, I’m going to have to give a huge ‘beef’ to this continuing Magdalena Lockheart saga with head honcho Jason Bridges and also to her match – if you could call it that – with Zaia.

As it turned out we were first treated with a backstage segment-of-sorts that seemed to take place in Bridges’s office. From there it’s the basic formula of what we’ve come to know from the CW exec: he’s a total d-bag and he wants everyone to know it. He pops in after summoning Maggie to his office and then goes on to berate her in front of his scantily-clad secretary for reasons that, quite frankly, nobody can explain. In the end of this little one-sided soiree he threatens to drop Maggie’s salary down to minimum wage instead of letting her out of her contract… simply because that’s what he would prefer to do to her.

That’s not a good look, Carnage Wrestling.

We’re in an era where, thankfully, professional wrestling is real again. Kayfabe may not be so dead after all. But what about accountability? Bridges not only shows his utter lack of morals and trash-bag character but decides to offer this unwarranted lambasting right before Maggie’s match with Zaia as a means of ‘supposed’ motivation. Is Jason Bridges for real? Please tell us that this is a joke. Tell us that despite the action inside the ring being for all intents and purposes real life, that this abomination was just some poorly thought-up gimmick trying to make professional wrestling more appealing.

And then trash it immediately.

The match then goes on as planned, but it is clear by that point that Lockheart is not in any mood to fight. Credit to the Artist herself, because I’m not sure I would have handled myself as professionally and with as much grace as she did if my boss just told me that I was basically less than a piece of what gets stuck to the bottom of our shoes when we jog in the park. Why hire her at all just to treat her this way? And what’s with the secretary dressed more appropriately for adult themed, x-rated photoshoots than doing her job? What are you thinking, CW?

Is this a joke?

At the end of it all, Maggie gets pummeled by Zaia but ends up winning the match anyway, despite some questionable tactics by Zaia’s Manager Amelia Nixon, and some shenanigans with a fan. No, I’m not kidding about that, either. On the broccoli side, Maggie did show perhaps the spark that had been missing from her fighting since her untimely incarceration. With Maggie figuring it out and Zaia’s still bright future the lone good things to come out of this otherwise disturbing section of the show, it’s still going to be a thumbs down from me.

Two thumbs, way down.

Is this the entertainment that we really want and expect out of a brand that is desperate to grow their identity? I don’t know what Carnage Wrestling is going for here… or if the executives at their parent network company approve this type of content making into the homes of their viewing audience. If it was a work… it didn’t work. And if this is the type of person that Jason Bridges truly is, which I sincerely hope is not the case, then he should be shown the door immediately.

One thing is for sure: this kind of culture being promoted on air is cheap heat at best. At best! And that’s saying something. But the truth is that dialogue like this – real or not – has no place in our society, let alone paraded on our television screens while being masked as entertainment.

This is what’s wrong with Carnage Wrestling in a nutshell… and I can only hope that somebody in charge over there realizes that before it’s too late.

(Sigh.)

Moving on, we then see Lucy Wylde take center stage and she’s out there to call out a member of Paragon…

 

The Diary of Magdalena Lockheart

Entries:
#1: Never Question the Heart
#2: Always Respect the Perspective
#3: …

 

Tuesday, July 16th, 2019
The [Redacted] Hotel, Baltimore Inner Harbor

 

Last Tuesday morning, the day after Chaos 76, I woke up to a body full of pain and a screaming headache, all thanks to a text alert on my phone. At that point I was feeling pretty beat up and just then realized that I had drank myself into a hangover too.

It was my fault of course. It seemed as though I let my emotions get the better of me on more than one occasion the night before. I didn’t fight back at first when fighting the literal future of Carnage Wrestling in Zaia. I was always going to pay for that one way or the other. Then I thought that going to the bar after the fight was a good idea. Granted, Amber Caldwell and I had decided to go long before Chaos 76 even took place. But I would pay for that, too.

It seems all actions do have their consequences, intentional or otherwise.

The effects of all of the alcohol consumed the night before buzzed inside my brain like an angry bee with a sledgehammer. The light seeped through the scant cracks of the Venetian blind, landing directly on my eyes. It only made the headache worse. I gritted my teeth and groaned. What time is it? I glanced over at the all-too-bright alarm clock. 8:31. Ugh. Who’s texting me this early? I probably should have known.

Makes me wish that I would have remembered to turn my phone off.

“Big mistake, Maggie…”

I grumbled through gritted teeth, though I’d probably do it all again given the circumstances surrounding the night before. It’s not every night you get answers to all of the more important questions. Like: Why is one of the tattoo shops employees taking time out of her weekends to come see me? (New York to Baltimore is far too long of a drive.) I stretched out for my phone thinking maybe it was Amber. I grabbed the phone and immediately curled up into a ball on the bed. Turns out it wasn’t Amber. That text wouldn’t come until later. It was Bridges… seemingly all too keen to tell me who my next opponent would be and why.

It seemed the perpetual inconveniences of Jason Bridges were set to continue after all.

I read the text once, twice, three times over. It read that in a little less than two weeks time, at Chaos 77, that I would be squaring off against Daniel Richards in the third match on the card. I tried to blink the blurriness away. Nothing’s changed. Bridges sends his regards. Best of luck against ‘The Modern Day Joker’, he says. I knew he didn’t mean it. But all that left me thinking…

Who?

Despite the aftermath, the 24 hours between Chaos 76 and the following morning still stand to me as a learning experience. I was able to win my match… able to stick it right in Bridges face after what he said. Then I was able to do my own investigating later… found out things from Amber about my tattoo shop up north and how they still talk about me, even though I haven’t seen them for the better part of seven months now.

I learned that at least one person still accepts me, even if she ends up just being curious about my somewhat self-imposed exile.

…and then I learned what Bridges really thinks of me. Good thing I had planned to go to Carnage HQ anyway. Something about what Amber said to me in regards to standing up for myself must’ve struck a real chord.

I wouldn’t go there intending to get fired.

But I wouldn’t have been surprised if I did.

 

 

Hours Later
Jason Bridges Office, The Carnage Arena

 

When I got to the Carnage Arena I was expecting to meet Bridges in his office, so I could tell him off face to face. Instead what I got was his secretary, Cherie Von Allen.

“It’s about time you made it,” she said as I dragged my feet through the doorway. One look at me was all she needed before blurting out, “Wow, you look rough.”

Indeed I was. I came covering my bruises by wearing a jacket in the middle of August. Even though we were inside, I was reluctant to remove my sunglasses because of the fluorescent lighting in the room. The best I could do otherwise was a tee shirt with leggings and sneakers without socks, but at least Cherie was dressed like an actual professional and not a sex doll for once.

“Thanks,” I replied with a half-hearted tone as I made my way over to the nearest chair to plop down. “What did you expect? It’s not everyday you go toe-to-toe with your own younger… high-flying… less jaded… you. Talk about crazy.”

Cherie chuckled. It was good to see her smile. See her loose for a change. This would be my second clue that Mister Bridges was nowhere around.

“Craziness and Carnage Wrestling go hand-in-hand,” she said so matter-of-factly as if she were reciting poetry. Carnage always seemed so familiar to her. “But I’m not talking about letting Zaia use you as a punching bag. No… I’m more so referring to that little date you went on last night. Looks like you overdid it a little bit.”

“Hey… how did you know about that?” I asked, eyebrows raising above the rim of my sunglasses. “It wasn’t a date… she’s uhh… just an employee up at Paper Street. We were just talking shop business.”

Cherie grinned at me. It took me a while but I realize now it was probably that damn limo driver. Bastard probably ratted me out.

“Oooh. I see.” She replied with a sarcastic undertone. “Just an employee, huh? Shop business? So you mean to tell me the girl in the black dress who sat in the front row and went out to a bar with you after the show didn’t catch your eye at all?”

For once… I was speechless. It only made Cherie chuckle more. She knows how I am. We’ve known each other for quite a while. It’s only now that I feel like we could honestly call each other friends.

“It’s okay Mags. We all have feelings,” she assured, “…though it’s understandable why sometimes you feel better off hiding them. I can only imagine what you’re going through, after Lucy and Joe, and then being locked up and all. You must feel quite lonely.”

Her words sent a sharp, vivid flashback through my troubled mind like a driven spike. I literally have to physically shake off the bad feelings that come over me anytime anyone mentions anything that takes me back to that place… or to that cell.

“Yeah well when you’re like me you learn to be careful about feeling certain feelings. Very few of them have a tendency to be reciprocated.” I said, all while sounding very sure of myself.

Cherie shook her head. “Have you tried asking her? Until then you’d never really know.”

“Asking her what, exactly?” I replied, albeit a little annoyed by this point. “If she’s…? I’m not sure that I’m even ready for that, Cher… and even if I was… she’s still an employee of Paper Street. That would only make an already bad situation even worse.”

“Bad because she might say no to you or bad because she maybe, just maybe, might say yes?”

I honestly didn’t know.

“So, will the lady in the slim black dress possibly come back for 77, or…?”

“I don’t know… I asked her to. I’d like her to. She at least said that she would.”

“That’s good!”

“Yeah… but I think she wants me to come back to New York, too… you know, to see the girls and all. I’m just not quite sure I’m ready to do that. I… I don’t know, Cher. A big part of me is telling me that I’m better off leaving the past in the past, ya know? When Amber eventually finds out that I don’t really wanna go back to Paper Street… that I’m pretty much settled in as to where I’m gonna be for a while, I doubt that she’d even still want come around… if I’m being totally honest here.”

“Well,” Cherie started as she took a seat across from me. “That’s not showing a whole lot of faith in her now, is it?”

I laughed so hard that it made my headache worse again. “Faith? What does faith have to do with anything?” Faith seemed like the last thing that would enter into this equation.

Cherie thought for a moment, holding her chin in her hand as she did. “You never know. What if she just wants to come see you? Is that so hard to believe? You do have a lot of fans out there.”

Pfft. A fan… wanting to come see me? That would be as crazy as… a Lucy Wylde fangirl eventually meeting her and going out- oh God.

I replied with a self-deprecating smile all while shaking my head. “Well, Amber doesn’t even like wrestling, so I seriously doubt that she’s a fan.”

“So? There’s still more a whole lot more to you than you’re willing to admit, Mags.” Cherie said with a smile of her own. “I’m just jealous that you never invite me out for drinks. Pssh – and here I thought we were friends.”

I could sense her sarcasm, which was a good thing. Otherwise I probably would have gotten up out of my chair and smacked her.

“Oh come on now, I ask you all the time and you’re always busy.” I said reminding her of that one time I asked her like… a month ago but she had already made plans with her boyfriend. “But do you really think there’s more to me than all this?”

“I do. But hey, if your lady friend still wants to come to the next show… or any of the girls from the tattoo shop want to… I just want you to know that the situation is already taken care of.” She assured me in a soft tone. “I’ll make sure… Amber, is it? I’ll make sure Amber gets the VIP treatment whenever she wants to come back. Seriously. Security will know not to mess with her… and Miss Nixon will be getting talked to about any future involvement with fans as well… and why that isn’t necessarily the brightest idea she’s ever had.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded.

I felt relieved in a sense, but I definitely wasn’t expecting it. Truth be told I was totally prepared to barge into the office with all guns blazing… I had already imagined that I would have said some shit that would have had Bridges dropping me down to minimum wage and putting me on the ring crew like Lucas Silva used to.

But even though it was a pleasant surprise didn’t mean that it all made sense.

“Cherie…” I was struggling for the right words to say. Eventually I just said, “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Mags.” She replied as she stood up, walked over and placed her hand on my shoulder, squeezing it. “It’s the least I can do for you with all of the crap Jason has been putting you through.”

I wanted to ask her… seriously… if being the secretary of the President of CW gave her enough clout to do all this. I guess I wanted to know because I wasn’t sure if it was Cherie doing it or if it was Bridges own way of apologizing to me without actually having to be there to say that he was sorry. But I didn’t ask. It just didn’t feel right at the time. I wanted to take Cherie for her word, so I figured that’s exactly the right thing to do.

I reached out and placed my hand over hers.

“It’s a huge relief knowing that I’ve got at least somebody in my corner.”

“Maggie, you’ve got more than you know.”

“Now all I’ve got to do is figure out what I’m going to do with this Melody Lennox’s bodyguard situation. I was hoping that two wins in a row would buy me a ticket out of the doghouse at least.”

“Hey now, don’t let your guard down on Daniel Richards. He’s a real fighter in his own right. Accomplished, too.”

“Oh yeah?” I shoot back, looking up at Cherie with a bit of a smirk.“If that’s the case then why does Bridges have him fighting me?”

Cherie smirked back at me and simply said:

“Well I guess that doesn’t really matter now… does it?”

 

The Diary of Magdalena Lockheart

Entries:
#1: Never Question the Heart
#2: Always Respect the Perspective
#3: Focus Only on what Matters

 

I’m not here to question Daniel Richards.

I’m not here to question his heart. His methods. His motivations. But in the spirit of competition, and all other things considered, it is my job to try to understand my opponent to the best of my capability. By that I mean, what is he capable of? Why does he say the things that he says? Why does he do all of the things that he does?

Again, I’m not judging. But I do need to at least try to understand what I’m up against here.

This time, it’s the Modern Day Joker.

Hmm. Modern Day Joker, eh? It’s uhm… it’s uhh… it’s somewhat catchy. It might be a little edgelordy… But again, what do I know? Modern Day Joker… what’s the comparison here? Is it more Ledger, or Hammill, or – oh god – please don’t say Leto.

Anything but Leto.

So I’ve done my research, and come to find out that the Modern Day Joker is a lot of things. There’s a lot more to Daniel Richards than just being Melody Lennox’s bodyguard and otherwise her professional ass-kisser. Turns out the man is dangerous, truly dangerous in the ring. Former multiple-time champion, including world champion, and formidable in the tag-team arena as well. There isn’t much that Daniel Richards hasn’t proven that he can do… and it’s seemingly only a matter of time before his parade of Carnage continues here. Above all else he’s dirty, unforgiving, and doesn’t give a damn about what it takes to do to win, if in fact he actually cares about winning at all. It seems he’s more about hurting people, and as we all know:

“It’s not about money, it’s about sending a message. Ehehehehe-”

Hey,

I like movies too.

In an earlier version of history, He’d be my kind of people (at least between the bells) as he fits well within what we are trying to be in the UltraViolent scene. He’s selfish, arrogant, vile… and oh yes, when it comes down to acknowledging his own talent… he’s never short on his own words.

But above all else, he claims to enjoy himself the most when there are no rules. He likes to hurt people… that’s his mission, his statement, his goal. 

So where does that put me in all of this?

…

Well, I dunno, Danny.

Do you think I honestly give a damn about what you wanna do to me?

…

Let me make one thing perfectly clear: there is no threat here. Sure, there’s every possibility that you could beat me to within an inch of my life… but that doesn’t make you special. Hell that doesn’t even put you in the top five. Look around you. Do you see what I’m surrounded by constantly? Do you see all the hell that I’ve been through? Let’s talk about what’s real around here, Richards. I’ve faced men made out of much stronger stuff than you… who actually wanted to kill me and would have if I’d have given them the chance! I’ve faced Trent Steel. I’ve went toe to toe with JC. I even fought Sebastian Steel in the middle of the goddamn streets here in Baltimore! I don’t fear death and I sure as hell don’t fear pain… so I sure as hell don’t fear you or anything that you claim to stand for!

You ran your mouth bitching about how Carnage doesn’t acknowledge your talent… doesn’t treat you fairly by how they book you. Well boohoo assclown, suck it up! If doing your job is a waste of your time… well then, there’s the fucking door. You’re always seemingly more concerned about making sure Melody’s pedestal doesn’t topple over… and by all means good for her and her ego that she found someone like you. But don’t come to Carnage Wrestling talking shit about everyone else on the roster like none of us are worthy. Because you never quite know when somebody’s gonna step up and show you that the joke’s… on… you.

Every action has its consequence, Danny, and the funny part is that it doesn’t really matter the whats or the whys of how this match came to be. But it is what it is, and I’m ready for it. I’m so ready for it in fact that I sent you a little message stating that I’d prefer it be contested within a set of rules that we’d both enjoy. UltraViolent… no rules… right? Not sure if you had gotten my little note, but hey. I am the Queen of Anarchy and you’re the Modern Day Joker… so let’s see if you can pull another ace out of your sleeve – otherwise, you won’t be worth a pair of deuces to me.

I’m not one that has ever had any tolerance for the overtly self-righteous… I may struggle to respect your world view and that cold, black heart of yours but that doesn’t mean that I have to like any of it… or like you at all. You might be an anti-hero, or might be the antichrist anywhere else you step foot. But you’re not there, are ya? You’re in Carnage Wrestling. You’re stepping foot into my ring now.

…and my path…

My path is through you.

I dare you to face me, one on one, in an UltraViolent match tomorrow night… because unlike you I’m focused on what truly matters. I have a reputation, and I want to prove myself every time I step through that curtain. It doesn’t matter who I’m facing, or why. I want to be something more than just someone who opens a real star’s doors for her – serves her drinks and fluffs her pillows.

I’m not judging. Just saying.

When I stomp your face into the ground tomorrow, it’ll just be another story. Another triumphant showing of Magdalena Marie Lockheart. Another joke of a performance for you.

But hey, at least the punchline is simple. 

Look at what you just made me do.