2017 DoS Madness Post-Tournament Press Conference

[Myria Graziano]

Settling into a chair behind a rectangular table, flanked by two Wrecking Crew PR representatives, Myria waited until the media members quieted down.

“So we’re here for me to announce the prizes I’ve selected for winnin’ Madness.”

The two PR folks glanced to one another and nodded almost imperceptibly. A full sentence in and Myria hadn’t gone off script.

“But before we get to that…”

At this, the PR people panicked internally but remained straight-faced. They’d learned long ago that outward signs of dread did nobody any good.

“…let’s recap the shit talking against me throughout the whole tournament, shall we? And let’s remind everyone the best odds for me from the betting houses were even money, way back in the Round of 32. Otherwise, y’all who bet on me to win did the smart thing and cashed in. Like these two.”

She thumbed toward the PR pair, not having any idea if either had ever even placed a Madness bet.

“And those of you who didn’t? Well, then you’re dumbasses and deserve to have all that cash bleedin’ outta your pockets.”

Both of the PR folks were rapidly mentally calculating how many overtime hours would be needed to smooth things over after this but managed to keep their expressions neutral.

“First, the shit-for-brains Overlord says the only way I can advance out of the 32 was if my opponent, the #4 seed, committed, suicide.”

An audio clip played of Jewell making her match prediction

One of the PR people couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that…they hadn’t set up or authorized any A/V for this conference.

“And how’d that work out? Oh yeah, this “Baby Graz” smacked that guy around five-to-two. Guess all Ms. Empress Overlady’s taught her squire is how to get his ass kicked. Good job there.”

“Next, another brilliant prognostication, this time from a different Ravenlock who, surprise!, was dead freakin’ wrong. Again.”

An audio clip played of Sapphire making her match prediction

“Now dude gave me a fight, but who wouldn’t expect that out of a #1 seed? Didn’t matter, though, cuz he went down like the rest, losing 5-4.”

“That brings us to the Elite Eight where Miss-Can’t-Decide-On-Hair-Color kept herself right off track, figuring Six, who was a three-seed, would take me down. And he tried, going up two nil on me before I did what I do and sent him packing, 5-3. Final Four? Here's where our Overlady pulled her head out of her ass long enough to see reality and …I finally got picked to win against Elisa, another #1 seed. Which I did, with another 5-3 final.”

Smirking at the cameras, Myria’s tone was thick with sarcasm. “Lookit that, you finally got one right. Congratulations.”

Taking a sip of Silver Mark: Blue, she continued.

“And the Championship Round? We all know the story. She musta missed being wrong and picked Crunchem, who I beat 5-3 after goin’ down two nothing again.”

An audio clip plays of Jewell selecting Crunchem to win before reluctantly switching to Myria

“So let’s recap. I knocked down a four, a one, a three, another one and a six, was picked to lose all but a single match and then not one peep from Little Ms. Expert And Friends on how freakin’ wrong they were. And to all y’all who keep countin’ Crew out, countin’ me out, sayin’ I ain’t got the chops and Crew’s a…let me make sure I get this quote right…dead franchise?”

Myria stood up, smacked both palms on the tabletop, stared into the cameras and spoke as evenly as she could.

“Surprise, you jackasses. We keep on comin’ when you least expect it and even when you do.

So y’know what, Empress-Overlady-May-Queen-who-the-fuck-cares? Go ahead and pick yourself to win the next one, cuz I’m comin’ for you and you’ll be dead wrong then, too. Yeah, that means I’ve selected the Overlord Challenge as one of my Madness prizes. And I’m takin’ the Baron grant for the other, but we’re going to announce the awardee of that at a different time.”

Myria stood upright, half turned to leave, thought better of it, spun back and leaned close to the mic once more.

“Oh, and Jewell…one piece of advice. Do yourself a favor and re-watch my match against E about a thousand times so you learn how to beat him. I really really want you to beat him.”

Myria grinned wide, playing it up for the broadcast audience as well as the media.

“Cuz then it’s you.”

She jabbed her index finger at the cameras.

“And it’s me.”

She thumbed back to herself.

“And ya know how that’s gonna end up.”

Without taking questions from the gathered media, Myria left the aftermath to the Crew PR folks who, for the umpteenth time, had to more than earn their keep.