Post by johnmwhite on Feb 1, 2010 13:21:02 GMT -5
--The battle has been long, the fight has been hard, and we arrive some thirty minutes after our last post to find both champions bloody and bruised, still grappling out on the floor. The Outlaw starts to get the upper hand, prying the lawyer's arms apart. Slowly, slowly, like a jack prying open a garage door, he manages to break JMW's guard and rears back for another huge punch to the face. But the slippery lawyer is prepared, catching the Outlaw's hand just in time. With a shift of weight like a sudden weather change, JMW forces Holiday onto the announcee table, his chest smacking the wood hard, and the lawyer locks in the Angel-Wing Submission Hold.--
Allyson: Well that was a nasty bump Holiday took into our table, but not nearly as nasty as this vicious hold that snake has on him.
Simon: He nearly spilled my scotch! Dammit, Holiday, what's the matter with you, boy?
--Grunting and groaning, sweating and bleeding, Aaron Holiday writhes in the lawyer's grip. No matter how he tries to break free, his squirming simply presses him harder into the des and tightens White's grip. Holiday, muscles on fire, knows he will soon succumb if he doesn't do something about this. His fingers grope blindly about the table, scattering papers, knocking over a fan, and giving Allyson's bosom a good squeeze.--
Holiday: Hey, cool.
Allyson: HEY! Not cool!
--And then he finds it. The cold, hard glass, short and squat, feels like relief in his hand. The Outlaw grips it, tossing it back in what he hopes is the lawyer's face.--
Simon: Definitely not cool!
John Michael White: Ahhh! Dammit!
--Hissing as the alcohol burns his eyes, JMW releases his prey and stumbles back from the table. The Outlaw staggers up as well, panting from pain, rolling his shoulder to make sure it remains in its socket. And then, as the lawyer wipes his eyes, the Outlaw Aaron Holiday sees his opportunity. Extending his damaged arm, steeling himself for the oncoming rush of pain, Holiday races across the floor...--
Allyson: Wow! Did you see that?
--... and crashes hard into the Ring Wars World Champion. Almost knocked out of his boots, JMW is thrust back, and his skull connects with the steel ring post.--
Simon: See what? Where the hell is the rest of my scotch?
--The lawyer slumps to the floor, totally out. Aaron Holiday allows himself a moment's rest leaning his hips on the apron, gripping his arm as the searing pain rushes back and forth along it. Looking down at JMW, he smiles. Totally worth it. As his nurse kneels at the lawyer's side, trying to fan him back into consciousness, Holiday strides toward them. Razor Sharp makes it around the ring and drags the woman away, while Holiday scoops up the RW Champion, rolling him into the ring. The Outlaw slides under the ropes, hauling the lawyer up by the collar, and gets him into position with JMW's bald head between his knees. Grinning at his imminent victory, Aaron Holiday extends his arm to point to the centre of the ring.--
Allyson: Well it looks like it's all over for JMW. Here comes the Fade To Black.
--Holiday hauls JMW up, hoists him onto his shoulders, and starts running.--
Simon: Son of a bitch, I'll teach him to take the last of my scotch.
Allyson: Wait, Simon, what the...?
--Aaron Holiday hits the ropes, catapulted back acro-- no! A hand grips his ankle, a forearm smacks his thigh. Aaron Holiday stumbles, the lawyer slips in his grip, and suddenly wide awake and seeing the ground preparing to give him a great big kiss, John Michael White snakes his arms around the Outlaw's and drives his face into the mat with a huge Double-Arm DDT.--
Allyson: The Gavel! Simon, what the hell did you do?
--John Michael White, still woozy, grips his head as he rolls onto the Outlaw. The referee has little choice, interference be damned, the Holidays wanted an Extreme match. He drops to his knees, slaps the mat, making the count.--
Allyson: One!
Crowd: TWO!!
Chase Evans: Three!
--The bell rings, the audience erupt, and John Michael White flops back off the Outlaw's body, raising an exhausted arm in the air.--
Katie Rain: Here is your winner... and the NEW REW Ultra Violent Champion... John Michael White!
--Katie heaves the two gold belts, forty pounds of gold between them, onto the ring apron. She slides them to the referee, who puts them both in the lawyer's arms. Jubilant, John Michael White rises to his feet, holding them to his shoulders as nurse Andrea wriggles free of Razor Sharp and slides in to hug him. She hands him the sterling silver microphone, because of course JMW has to speak.--
John Michael White: Ahh.. ah... ow... Well, now I've got to carry forty pounds of baggage with me everywhere I go... it's like being in AY again.
Allyson: Zing...
John Michael White: Look at that, huh? Top of the freakin' world. Your paper champion, the guy who couldn't draw flies to shit, the most successful Ring Wars Champion in history yet somehow also the worst... he's done it again! I've beaten Holiday, again. I've won a world title and reached the pinnacle of a federation, again. I've exceeded expectations and proven my two-faced detractors were talking out of the wrong hole... again!! In fact the most new thing I have here is this old belt from UVCW, ironically the federation I cut my teeth in, and a title which had always eluded me... until now. And now not only do I have gold, I have power. Raw, fearful, dread power. As of this moment, your NEW REW Ultra Violent Champion has carte blanche to fire any single soul in this company I wish. Just who will it be? The bastard who bruised my jaw, cracked my skull and hammered my Trinity, Jaxson Kyzer? The baseball bat welding maniac who has been a headache for me for years, Aaron Holiday? The witchy woman who stands at his side and has been under my skin since the day I got here, Icy? Hell, maybe I'll fire Cameron for losing to The Bog Standard Blake Worship. You never know what the lawyer has up his sleeve. So stand in line and pucker up boys and girls, because no one is safe!
--And so we end our broadcast, the camera panning back to show John Michael White standing triumphant in the ring. He tucks away the sterling silver microphone and raises both belts high, one in each hand. Cameras flash off the gleaming gold, and like a dragon John Michael White roars his victory, clutching tight to the Ring Wars WOrld and REW Ultra Violent Championships as we fade into darkness.--
