Myra Benedict Flash

[Infinite darkness, accompanied by the sound of plastic on wood.  Fade in.

A child's plastic top spins seemingly infinite winding circles around a
smooth tabletop.  And then...

...It topples over.  Yet it still spins, though slower now, catching more
and more friction from the wooden surface.  Pan up.

"Poison Bliss" Myra Benedict.

She is seated at the chair, her eyes turned down toward the plastic top.
Yet, they seem distant, as if Myra is in deep thought.  She is dressed in a
gray top beneath her denim jacket, and matching jeans almost totally
concealed under the table.  Without uttering a word, she straightens up the
top again, twisting her wrist counter-clockwise, and then twisting it the
other way, sending the top into another coiling spin.  She watches intently,
her darkened face covered by a sheen of concentration...

...And the top topples again, slowing its spin before coming to a gentle
halt.  Eyes closed to near slits, Myra nods her head, still in the deepest
thought.

Finally, abruptly, her eyes raise to the camera, acknowledging its
presence.]

PBMB: You might ask yourselves... why is a grown woman playing with a
child's toy?

It's quite simple really...

This _top_, and UWF's "Tornado" Tara Smith have much in common.

[...Huh?]

PBMB: It's common knowledge how destructive tornados can be, ripping through
the Midwest every year, uprooting tree and house alike, injuring, killing,
and leaving people homeless...

But sooner or later, each and every tornado must come to an end.

[She nods, grasping the plastic top in her hand, repositions it, and sends
it spinning yet again.  She watches again as it goes through its coiling
cycle, before toppling, slowing, and stopping.  Myra's cold gaze returns to
the camera.]

PBMB: Like the real tornados that crisscross this country, Tara Smith has
been seemingly unstoppable in the ring.

But like the real thing, Tara's unstoppable charge through the competition
has reached its end.

[Another nod, as Myra repeats the same process yet again.  She remains
silent until the top lies peaceful still.]

PBMB: You've already begun to topple, "Tornado".  And when you and I stand
in the center of the ring, eyes locked in mental preparation for the
approaching battle, I intend to bring you down all the way.

Whether you tap out to the Myracle Lock, or lay motionless on the canvas for
three seconds after the Shadow's Bane, your fall from grace will be
complete.

[She steadies the top yet again, before sending it spiraling out of control.
Not allowing it to finish its cycle on its own though, Myra abruptly taps
it, sending it toppling in a mad spin around the table, before she stops its
momentum outright, cupping her hand over it.  In response, Myra's face
darkens.  Fade.]