I must say, I’m not surprised, but slightly disappointed that you haven’t uttered a word to counter my previous claims, Cynthia. It’s becoming a theme with the people I step into the ring with; they’re either baffled, bewildered, or simply can’t handle my charm. I suppose it’s a testament to my abilities that I’ve managed to shut people up or bore them to the point where they know exactly what to expect. And yet, here we are, just 24 hours away from our match, and the silence from your end is deafening.

You see, there’s a certain decorum to being a professional wrestler, especially when you’re speaking on camera. You need to be quick-witted, or you’ll be forgotten in an instant. I thrive in the spotlight, and I’m always happy to share my thoughts—within reason, of course. A girl’s got to keep some secrets, after all. But you, Cynthia, have been in this business longer than I have, so I expect more from you. You should be the one with the most to say, especially when facing someone like me in the ring.

But let’s get to the heart of the matter. I call it the “disease of the dull and the dim.” As the years go by, you’ve become stale, Cynthia. Your star power has faded, and you’re no longer relevant. You’re like a once-bright star that’s lost its luster. And that’s not just my opinion, it’s a fact. You’ve had your time in the spotlight, and now it’s time to step aside and let the likes of me take center stage.

Now, I know that outcomes aren’t determined by what we say in promos, but they do give insight into our headspace going into a match. And let’s be real, Cynthia, I wasn’t exactly in the best mindset before our match was announced. But as soon as I heard your name, I knew that this was a chance to prove myself, to show the world what I’m capable of. And as for you, well, you’re just a speed bump on my road to greatness.

I don’t want to be mediocre, Cynthia. I’ve never been mediocre in my life, and I don’t intend to start now. And as for you, well, you’re just a reminder that sometimes, people get complacent, they get comfortable, and they forget what it takes to be the best. But I’m not going to let you get in my head, Cynthia. I’m going to focus on the task at hand, and that’s beating you senseless in that ring.

You see, matches are won in the ring, not on the mic. And while you may have a certain... let’s call it “quality” about you, I outweigh that quality in every way possible. I’m the complete package, Cynthia, and you’re just a relic of the past. So, I’ll give you some advice—just keep quiet, and let’s get this over with.

Now, I’ve been thinking about your wrestling style, or rather, the lack thereof. I’ve heard that you’re a bit of a surprise in the ring, that you turn into a completely different person when the bell rings. But let’s not lie here, Cynthia, we both know that’s not true. You’re not the Donatello Versace of our generation, and you’re certainly not the Serena Williams, nor a shining example of athlete either.

Speaking of tennis, let me explain something to you. When a weaker player faces a stronger one, you can see the desperation in their eyes. They’re determined to win, but they know they’re outmatched. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen when we face each other in the ring, Cynthia. You’re Sara Errani to my Serena Williams—a mediocre player who can’t hold a candle to my greatness. Errani’s career has been marked by inconsistency and a lack of notable achievements, and that’s exactly what I see when I look at you, Cynthia. You’re a player who’s content with being average, with being a footnote in the history books.

So, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to sport you a 40-point lead, and I’m going to wrestle like I’ve got love on my side. I’m going to battle back with my back against the wall, not that I need to, because I’m the superior wrestler. And when the dust settles, I’m going to be the one standing tall, with my hand raised high in victory. You, on the other hand, will be left to pick up the pieces of your shattered ego. So, let’s get this over with, Cynthia. I just pray that your backhand is better than your fashion sense.