Post by whitewidow on Sept 17, 2012 10:43:38 GMT -5
I did it. I won. I'm on my knees in the middle of the ring, K.C. James sprawled to my side. Alex Cross lies on his front, head in his hands, despondent that his shot at the big time is now done. And behind me, Trash stands tall in his black and white shirt, the clashing shades representing the chaos he has brought to bear. Or do the thick, regimented stripes represent order? But I don't see any of it: all I see is myself, reflected in the gleaming gold surface I cradle like an infant in my arms.
I smirk. I'm the champion, and I'm damn proud of it. As I lean forward I catch sight of Trash reflected in the gold, his face a vacant mask. I have no idea what he was thinking in helping me, but I'm not too proud to take it. I have defeated K.C. James on my own, and I have held him to a draw when he brought his best game to bear. Now, even with all the distractions and tricks thrown at me, I came out with the gold. A lucky break might have happened, but as a wise man once told me, all that exists is down to luck.[/i]
Allyson: I don't believe this. We finally have a female World Champion in REW.
Simon: I just can't believe the Texas Tyrant lost. He threw everything he had at her.
Allyson: He didn't have Trash. Apparently, she did.
Siri: First I've heard of it. But I have a feeling the Sanity Assassin has his own agenda.
I stand up, turning to face the new referee. Trash simply stares back, not revealing his intentions one bit. And I'm fine with that, because right now, I have something very important to do. The crowd roar, some ecstatic at the newcomer climbing the ranks and taking the title, others furious that the man's world of the ring was torn asunder by a little woman. The cacophony is overwhelming, almost drowning out the blare of "Better Than Revenge". I feel like I am being swallowed in the sea. I roll out of the ring, belt in one hand, and grab Siri from her place at the announce table.[/i]
Allyson: So long, bitch.
Simon: Hey, be nice to our broadcast partner. She's a lot better informed than you are.
Allyson: She's plugged into Wikipedia, that doesn't make her informed.
I lift the ring apron, reaching into the darkness beneath to pull out a simple black briefcase. I slide it into the ring, followed by Siri; the belt I keep in my hands as I roll under the ropes. Rising, I see Trash eyeing the briefcase curiously. I wink at him, offer a smile. I'm not sure if I'm his type, so to speak, but even after a hellacious match against two opponents I can't help but feel that a little flirtatiousness would not be unwelcome. And soon, Siri won't be around any longer to assault me with insults and put-downs.[/i]
White Widow: Stick around. The show's not over yet.
I get down on one knee, the other acting as a platform to rest the briefcase on. Snapping it open, my face is filled with a pale purple light. A camera behind me can see over my shoulder, spotting the contents emitting the eerie glow. It rises from the cases' simple contents: one neatly folded purple sports coat. In a pocket above, in the top half of the case, rests a slender, metallic object. I lift it out, opening its top half, and sprinkle thick, dark ashes over the coat. I close the urn, itself shaped like a microphone, made of the finest sterling silver. I take the gold now, drape the title belt over the purple sports coat, place Siri on top of that, and then...
I glance over my shoulder at Trash, flashing a devilish grin.[/i]
White Widow: Now is the time for the wrath of the ultimate rebel, the Joker, the cigar smoker, the man whose vice-like grip on gold cannot be broken, not even if you try to wrest it--
The the lid shuts itself. The lights shut off.[/i]
Voice: --from my cold, dead hands! Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.
I smirk. I'm the champion, and I'm damn proud of it. As I lean forward I catch sight of Trash reflected in the gold, his face a vacant mask. I have no idea what he was thinking in helping me, but I'm not too proud to take it. I have defeated K.C. James on my own, and I have held him to a draw when he brought his best game to bear. Now, even with all the distractions and tricks thrown at me, I came out with the gold. A lucky break might have happened, but as a wise man once told me, all that exists is down to luck.[/i]
Allyson: I don't believe this. We finally have a female World Champion in REW.
Simon: I just can't believe the Texas Tyrant lost. He threw everything he had at her.
Allyson: He didn't have Trash. Apparently, she did.
Siri: First I've heard of it. But I have a feeling the Sanity Assassin has his own agenda.
I stand up, turning to face the new referee. Trash simply stares back, not revealing his intentions one bit. And I'm fine with that, because right now, I have something very important to do. The crowd roar, some ecstatic at the newcomer climbing the ranks and taking the title, others furious that the man's world of the ring was torn asunder by a little woman. The cacophony is overwhelming, almost drowning out the blare of "Better Than Revenge". I feel like I am being swallowed in the sea. I roll out of the ring, belt in one hand, and grab Siri from her place at the announce table.[/i]
Allyson: So long, bitch.
Simon: Hey, be nice to our broadcast partner. She's a lot better informed than you are.
Allyson: She's plugged into Wikipedia, that doesn't make her informed.
I lift the ring apron, reaching into the darkness beneath to pull out a simple black briefcase. I slide it into the ring, followed by Siri; the belt I keep in my hands as I roll under the ropes. Rising, I see Trash eyeing the briefcase curiously. I wink at him, offer a smile. I'm not sure if I'm his type, so to speak, but even after a hellacious match against two opponents I can't help but feel that a little flirtatiousness would not be unwelcome. And soon, Siri won't be around any longer to assault me with insults and put-downs.[/i]
White Widow: Stick around. The show's not over yet.
I get down on one knee, the other acting as a platform to rest the briefcase on. Snapping it open, my face is filled with a pale purple light. A camera behind me can see over my shoulder, spotting the contents emitting the eerie glow. It rises from the cases' simple contents: one neatly folded purple sports coat. In a pocket above, in the top half of the case, rests a slender, metallic object. I lift it out, opening its top half, and sprinkle thick, dark ashes over the coat. I close the urn, itself shaped like a microphone, made of the finest sterling silver. I take the gold now, drape the title belt over the purple sports coat, place Siri on top of that, and then...
I glance over my shoulder at Trash, flashing a devilish grin.[/i]
White Widow: Now is the time for the wrath of the ultimate rebel, the Joker, the cigar smoker, the man whose vice-like grip on gold cannot be broken, not even if you try to wrest it--
The the lid shuts itself. The lights shut off.[/i]
Voice: --from my cold, dead hands! Pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name.
--And REW goes off the air.--