Post by Trash on Mar 1, 2011 21:26:18 GMT -5
Where is he, oh where is he the voices gabbled.
Little did they know he was so nearby, for he was among them.
Trash sat in the crowd patiently, watching as Aaron Holiday strained whilst looking to the ramp, the tense muscles, the labored expression, the fiery eyes.
A firework in human form, waiting for Trash's appearance to light his fuse.
Trash smiled meekly.
Time passed, the crowd grew restless.
"Boo" said a man next to Trash. "Aaron Aaron Aaron" cried a woman somewhere behind the sanity assasin. "Booo" cried another voice and then another...
Soon the arena became awash in cries of disappointment. There down by the ring the stage darkened.
The main event was for all effects and purposes, cancelled.
Trash laughed.
Aaron shuffled in the ring as the referee reached the zenith of his count and signaled to the bell ringer. The bell rang, one solid ring which revertebrated across the arena.
Trash listened.
-*DING*-
Katie Rain stumbles onto the stage, her hand on the microphone. She, Aaron and the referee exchange words. The world title is dragged up from the ringside, a pathetic mockery of its former self. Gone is the luster, long drained is the prestige...
Trash observes.
Katie Rain : The referee has ruled Aaron, The Outlaaaaaaw Holiday as the winner of this match via no contest as Trash has failed to show. Ladies and gentlemen, REW's newest world heavyweight champion, AAROOOON F'N HOOOOOOOOLIDAY!
The crowd cheers standing to their feet.
Trash frowns.
A man next to him nudges, getting up to take a look at the new champion. Trash squeezes through, passing between the rows of cheering fans and finds his way backstage. He stops, the cheers of the fans disappearing into background noise.
Through the halls he goes, picking up a briefcase along the way while observing row after row of empty lockerooms until he hits one door that is closed. From Trash's pocket a key emerges and opens the door to reveal Aaron Holiday's prestigious lockeroom. A bottle of champagne chills in a cooler, all ready for a victory celebration, as well as cases and cases of beer.
Trash skews.
The briefcase flies open and Trash takes out a row of wire and a small innocuous plastic box. The wires go to the box, the box goes behind the door and a thin copper wire runs underneath. Trash slowly steps back over the threshold of the door and it is locked.
Trash begins to walk away...
He hesitates. Trash looks up and down the hallway...he doubts.
Finally, he leaves.
Passing out of the arena, Trash catches the glimpse of the celebration that is about to come for Holiday. A celebration that might as well come to end his career, for the little box is charged with enough explosives to level the entire wing of the building.
TBC.
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