dom·i·nant
adj.
1. Exercising the most influence or control.
2. Most prominent, as in position; ascendant.
3. Ecology. Of, relating to, or being a species that is most characteristic of an ecological community and usually determines the presence, abundance, and type of other species.
4. Music. Relating to or based on the fifth tone of a diatonic scale.



I’m not going to lie to you, being a woman working in a male dominant World is no easy task. You have to have a hard neck and a tough hide if you want to make it with the big boys. Not just any woman will make it. It takes something special, a spark of determination, an intelligence, then and only then may you gain the respect of male wrestlers. Walking around in tight tops and short skirts, fighting in numerous bra and panties matches and losing will never get any woman respect in this industry. This is what separates the real women from the ‘divas’. Since I started in the business I always remembered having the opinion that a diva was a useless female. Just a pretty face who was here to get her tits out and screw around with the men backstage, a girl more interested in her looks and getting her centerfold in playboy than she was in actually making major sporting career for themselves. These ‘divas’ in my eyes are failures in life.

I remember years ago reading a copy of a speech that Clare Boothe Luce gave to the National Press Club in Washington D.C. she said something that always stuck in the back of my mine it was along the lines of 'Because I am a woman, I must make unusual efforts to succeed. If I fail, no one will say, ‘She doesn’t have what it takes.’ They will say, ‘Women don’t have what it takes'. Being a woman of determination and someone who seeks success and perfection on a daily basis I always felt that this line described why I was who I was. I didn't want to be just another woman in the background, another homemaker. I look around at women who claim to be successful, claim to be determined and claim to be the best yet a man looks at them and they fall into the endless abyss of love and relationships. How can a woman be successful when she is giving half her life to a man? She can't, nobody can be truly successful unless their whole heart is put into the business in which they want to succeed. That's why I wont ever be like the Jessie's and Marissa's of the World because I aim to be successful, not to be the woman behind a successful man and I will not fail.


Scene 1

The sunlight crept through the crack in the hotel room blinds sending a ray of light gleaming across Kendell Smith's pretty face as she slept. She stirred slightly opening her eyes slowly as the ray of light shone directly into them causing her pupils to dilate. She cringed and let out a groan, she was not a morning person at all. She pulled the crisp white sheets around her glancing up at the clock to see what time it was. It was still early but she had things to do and people to see. Maybe she shouldn't have had that last whiskey, she thought, her body feeling dehydrated and her head feeling like en elephant had stepped on her. She turned slowly in the huge bed to the figure of a person next to her. She raised her eyebrow forgetting for a second what exactly she had gotten up to the night before. Vegas brought out the worst in her. She lifted her head slightly looking at the person beside her and smirking.

Now I remember.

The previous nights antics all came flooding back as she put her head on the pillow. A night of strip clubs, ecstasy, alcohol and hardcore sexual experiences. The body in the bed next to her turned slightly, obviously waking up from their slumber after the busy night they had had with Kendell. Kendell lay there for a minute trying to gather her thoughts as to what she had to do today. She knew she had a lot of training to do. The last thing she wanted was the drink and drugs to take effect on her physical performance. She knew it didn’t matter if she stayed focused on her goal and continued to push herself if she was continuing to burn her candle at both ends. She needed rest before the toxic mix of drugs and alcohol started to affect her physical performance and that was a risk she was not willing to take.

She swung her legs over the bed and pulled the sheets away from her, stretching her long tanned legs out in front of her and stretching her long arms high in the air, clad in just her underwear she stood up from the bed and walked over to the mirror, admiring herself and smiling, she brushed her long dark hair away from her face. The pink lace of the underwear enhanced the glow of her sun kissed skin and her toned body.

"What time is it?"

She turned smiling, as the familiar southern drawl came from beneath the white sheets. The blonde waitress from the strip club popped her head up over the sheets. Her make up smirred and her innocence truly gone, she looked across the room where Kendell stood and smiled at her. The girl was pretty, Kendell thought, and for her tender age knew an awful lot about how to please a sexual partner.

Kendell Smith: "It's only early honey, you can put your pretty little head back on the pillow. I'm only up because I've things to do today and a flight to catch but I'm sure you can keep yourself amused when I leave."

The waitress smiled coyly, pushing her long blonde hair away from her face and sitting up in the bed, pulling the sheets up to hide her obvious nakedness. Before anything else could be said Jeff came walking in from the bathroom wearing nothing but a smile. Impressive to say the least, Kendell smiled in his direction.

Jeff: "I see my two sex kittens are wide away this morning ready for part two?"

Kendell Smith: "I have a flight to catch. I have to start training for Monday night adrenaline."

She walked across the room, opening the wardrobe and taking out one of her many expensive items of clothing. She hung the hanger on the back of the wardrobe and sat down at the dresser, pulling the dress up over her long legs. The hangover from the night before was still banging away at her head. She needed a pick me up to get her through the day. She leaned forward reaching for her purse. She reached inside and slipped out all that was left from the previous night. She dipped her hotel key into the plastic bag and raised the cocaine to her nose snorting the white substance into her system and smiling.

Ah that feels better.

She walked back over towards the bed as Jeff pulled on his pants and turned on the TV. The blonde waitress began to blush, only realising now in the cold sober light of day the extent of what had gone on the night before. Kendell was used to it. She wouldn’t have ever referred to herself as bi-sexual or gay she was try-sexual she’s try anything once and twice if she liked it. Sex was just another part of life, like eating and sleeping. In her eyes there was nothing wrong with casual sex as long as emotions stayed out of it and she just wasn’t the type of woman to get emotional. She leaned forward on the edge of the bed grabbing her sandals stopping and listening as a familiar voice echoed from the television to her ears. She continued to stay still for a second, concentrating on the voice before turning her head and looking at the television screen. Jeff turned and smiled at her.

Jeff: “I put on the wrestling channel just for you!”

Waitress: “You’re a wrestler?”

Kendell ignored them both and focused on the TV. She realised now why the voice was so familiar is was Tyra Blaze. She had never heard much about Tyra but her voice sounded much like her sister JC’s. She turned her attention to Jeff motioning for him to higher up the volume.

Kendell Smith: “Well? Higher it up! I haven’t got super hearing Jeff.”

Jeff frowned as his attempt at being nice went ignored. He picked the television remote control up from off the bed and pressed the volume button. The sound of Tyra’s voice filled the room now as Kendell continued to stare at the Television as if it where the only thing in the room.

Tyra Blaze: “Lower class? Darling I'm in a class all by myself. You just make you're way through life looking down at the 'little people' but in all actuality, I make my way through life looking down on everybody. Oh...this does include you Kendell.”

Kendell Smith: “She contradicted herself.”

Jeff and the waitress looked at each other puzzled as Kendell continued to look at the television.

Jeff: “Uh… what do you mean?”

Kendell Smith: “I’m assuming you are both smart enough to understand the word contradict.”

Jeff: “I meant… how… how did she contradict herself?”

Kendell Smith: “One second she’s practically praising my ring ability and the next minute she’s saying she looks down on me. That’s a contradiction. She couldn’t possibly look down on me one minute and praise me the next. She’s as dumb as she looks. And what’s this about her being a bitch? She’s not a bitch, that’s just a poor attempt at a bad attitude. She should go back to doing what she does best. Living in her little sisters shadow.”

Kendell continued to watch the TV as Tyra’s mouth continued to flap, talking about Kendell and their up and coming match. Kendell never classed herself a racist, she just knew where to draw the line between different classes of people.

Tyra Blaze: “If I had a dollar for every chick who came into any fed and said they were gonna be the dominant female I'd be like a billionaire by now.”

Kendell Smith: “If I had a dollar for every ethnic minority living on American soil then I’d be even richer than I already am. Who does this girl think she is? She’s just another jobber put into this match to make me look even better. She should know that it is me who will bring the ratings and that she is just going to be in the ring for me to throw around like a doll. Amazing how every woman comes out and claims they are not a Diva because it seems to be the cool thing to do, she is a diva until she proves she is anything but another pretty face to line the hallways. Her, Christine and Blair, Diva’s simple as. It is me who does not fit the mould, it is me who will bring Hitman to his knees and wear the gold around my waist.”

Kendell turned away from the television as Tyra Blaze’s interview finished. Jeff and the waitress continued looking at her. She turned her head and looked at both Jeff and the waitress and scoffed.

Kendell Smith: “What?”

Jeff: “Nothing, just interesting watching you loose your cool over some bitch with a big mouth on television.”

Kendell Smith: “I didn’t lose my cool, I am completely in control. I could care less what she says or what she thinks because when it comes down to it there will be only one superstar in that, not Blair, not Christine Daae and certainly not Tyra Blaze, it’s Kendell Smith. Soon to be one of the biggest names to grace the UWF ring.”

Jeff leaned across the bed to where Kendell was sitting and play licked her earlobe. Kendell turned and looked at him, a look of disdain on her face. Jeff had a bad habit of patronizing her. He tended to forget that she was not like other women and she would not melt at his every touch because she didn’t have any emotions towards him except the occasional bout of lust. She assumed that was his biggest attraction to her, her apathy towards him as a male. Truth was it took a man who could keep Kendell on her feet before she would be interested and in all her life she had never met a man that would put her in her place, the only men she had ever met acted like dribbling retards around her.


Kendell Smith: “I haven’t got time to just sit here and discuss wrestling with you both, it’s like talking to a brick wall. I have to go catch a flight Phoenix.”

Kendell stood up from the edge of the bed, grabbing her purse and making her way over to the door. She turned back and looked at Jeff.

Kendell Smith: “Bell hop will be up in a while to collect my suitcases and clothes. Try not to have your cock out when he arrives.”

She turned and opened the door exiting the room and walking out into the hotel hallway. She began walking down the hallway, lined with photographs of famous people who had stayed in rooms over numerous years, everyone from Frank Sinatra to Britney Spears. She looked at her watch and sighed. It was still very early and she was still feeling the pains from burning her candle at both ends the night before. She walked into the hotel lobby, which was surprisingly busy for such and early hour. She took a seat on one of the many comfortable armchairs in the center of the room and picked up a magazine from the glass table in front of her. She would be waiting a while before her limo would arrive to bring her to the airport so decided she might as well relax. She began reading through the numerous articles in Cosmopolitan, ‘How to wow a man in 10 steps’, ‘How to make him yours’, she wondered when had all women lost their minds? Since when did all women begin basing their lives around getting and keeping a man she let out a deep sigh before feeling a soft tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a small boy standing in front of her, his cheeks reddened with embarrassment as he held out a pen and paper.

Boy: “Ms. Smith, can… can… can I have your autograph.”

She smiled at the boy there was nothing she enjoyed more than having her ego stroked. She took both the pen and paper out of his hands, leaning down and signing her name for him with a kiss beside it. She decided to keep the vulgarity to a minimum then handed it back to the boy. The smile on her face changed quickly as she realized her was wearing a t-shirt with a picture of Andy Titsuhiro and Blair on the front. She eyed the boy and pointed at the t-shirt.

Kendell Smith: “Fan eh?”

Boy: “I like Andy he’s my favorite.”

Kendell Smith: “You know he’s gay don’t you?”

Boy: “Gay?”

Kendell Smith: “Never mind. You like Blair too?”

Boy: “Um… I guess.”

Kendell Smith: “Well I’m going to kick her ass this week. She’s going to wish she had of stayed at home playing Martha Steward with that ugly ass child of hers. Uh… children… why would any woman want to procreate. Pushing a watermelon through a key hole and ruining a perfectly good hole.”

The boy looked at Kendell with a confused look on his face. Kendell looked back him blankly. She wasn’t the biggest fan of children or old people. She never knew what she should say to them.

Kendell Smith: “She seems to be obsessed with my high school years, I can see why a woman who obviously wasn’t educated past high school would focus on such silly petty things as this. I am beyond any high school bully, with me what you see is what you get, this is who I am. I don’t try to be anything I’m not and I don’t force it. At least I’m interesting. I don’t spend my time playing little miss home maker with my dreadful athlete husband, occasionally boring people to death with stories about my past feuds with family members. Nobody cares about what her brother did to her. Do you care?”

Boy: “Um… no?”

Kendell Smith: “See that’s my point. You have no idea what I’m talking about do you? Probably because you, like myself, fall asleep during these pathetic attempts at wrestling promos. Well put it this way kid, only one woman can step out of this ring a winner and it sure as hell isn’t going to be Blair, Christine Daze or Tyra Blaze, you understand what I’m saying? It will be me and only me and you know why? Because I am not all mouth I am the real deal and I don’t only talk the talk I walk the walk.”

Kendell looked at the boy who looked back at her blankly. He looked at her once more before running back across the lobby to his mother. Kendell focused back on her magazine, staring at it aimlessly. She had heard words now from all three of her opponents and still was not fazed. Why should she be? She knew she had what it took to beat all three women with one hand. She knew she had what it took to put all three women to shame and that was exactly what she had planned to do. Diva’s are a dime a dozen but real female wrestling legends, well, they shine like stars and there was no bigger star than Kendell Smith.