Post by johnmwhite on Feb 27, 2012 9:41:51 GMT -5
--Aaron Fuckin' Holiday slams Sung Ho's totally-not-Asian-face into the steel ramp with a furious flapjack. He takes a moment to enjoy his handiwork, sneering down at the would-be champion. Sung Ho certainly has cajones, or whatever the Japanese word for that is. He's tried to make a deal with the devil, fought for the world title, and even got in the face of two of the most intense rivals in wrestling history, in the less than safe environment of a hardware store. And no matter how badly his ass got kicked, he keeps coming back, and had no qualms facing the hellish Hellian.--
Allyson: Holiday looks pleased with himself.
Simon: I have a feeling he's not satisfied ye--what the hell?
--Holiday's face, now maskless, joins Sung Ho against the metal. The back of his head bleeds, a trickle flowing from a harsh wound inflicted with a solid gold bat. And holding that bat is a purple glove.--
Allyson: Son of a bitch, what's he doing here?
--John Michael White tosses the bat back off the stage, knowing better than to be anywhere near Holiday with a weapon raised for more than a second. He's learned a thing or two in all the times the pair have faced one another. JMW paces at the top of the ramp, keeping just out of reach of the beaten competitors, and takes his time lighting a cigar. As he puffs smoke out under the spotlight, Holiday and Sung Ho both begin to stir, all four eyes smouldering with fury as they fall upon the closed purple sports coat of the lawyer.--
Simon: I have a feeling he's about to tell us.
--JMW slips his sterling silver microphone from his sleeve.--
John Michael White: Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, and while your headache might be a little worse than your average hangover, I do hope you won't hold it against me, Mister Holiday. It's not as if we're not intimately familiar with one another and how it feels to be clubbed in the head. Rest assured that this is nothing personal. I may be better than you...
--John Michael White opens his coat; the spotlight strikes gold. He wears the REW Extreme Championship.--
John Michael White: But I'm better than everyone. And I am done with being a team player. It is time to, as they say, go into business for myself. The rules no longer apply, Messrs Holiday and Ho. No one in REW is safe, any time, any where. It's not 2001 any more. The last remnants of the old Ring Wars will be swept away. I have fought so long and so hard to give life to this Frankenstein's monster that is the Real Extreme Wrestling federation, but what did I get for my trouble? The body still rots, bits still fall off. And its crowning achievement, the World Championship, is in the garbage. Literally. Talented, cunning, impressive garbage, but as good as Trash is, who is tuning in to see him?
Well, I am, but that's because I am keeping tabs on my pet project. When I agreed to sign over REW to Aaron Sirius and my dear friend Phoenix, I inserted two clauses to the contract. The first was, as we are all aware, granting Sung Ho here three title shots. The second... well, that is a secret I'll never tell.
--The crowd howls, on the edge of their seats. Perhaps they care after all.--
John Michael White: Oh all right. The second clause stated that Aaron Sirius must end your career. You wondered why the junior Sirius has been gunning for you since he arrived, Trash? The fact is he has been doing so under my direction. I have had a vested interest in getting rid of you for some time, and not just because you posed the greatest risk to my title.
--JMW glances at his wrist, where a seven-handed silver watch ticks away.--
John Michael White: After targeting you to butter me up as he prepared for his coup, Mr. Sirius agreed to a clause that states that he has until April the 1st to see to it that you can never, ever compete again. Otherwise, as per our agreement... REW returns to my control. Gratis.
Allyson: Oh hell no!
Simon: Wow, there's only about a month left for Sirius to get the job done. I had no idea there was a secret hit out on Trash.
John Michael White: And it is my intention, on the first day of April in the year of some Hebrew guy 2012, to shut down REW. For good.
Allyson: What?! He can't do that.
Simon: I guess the hit isn't so secret anymore. If we want to keep our jobs... Trash has to go!
--The crowd roar with disapproval. Sung Ho gapes. Even Holiday looks shocked, and he's seen everything from the lawyer. Well, not quite everything, though there were always those rumours...-
John Michael White: I have a feeling that you are now a marked man, Trash. Welcome to my world. If anyone wants to see REW continue to remain in business, then they had better see to it you never get in the ring again by April first!
--JMW tucks away his microphone again and walks out, leaving the broken main event and stunned audience behind.--
TBC by ?
