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Post by Jaggeroth's wench. on Nov 9, 2011 20:56:16 GMT -5
After Grimey left, Wolverina stood angry in the center of the oxymoron called the squared circle, fuming over her plan being thwarted. As she seethed the fans jeered and laughed it up, then applauded when Klusa White's music started up. But their jubilant is for naught. After the entire song played and no White showed from behind the curtain, the tron went blank again,before showing the feed of Wolfie inside the ring, her lips curled into a cute little vindictive smile. A ring tech handed her a mic upon request.
Wolverina: Upon realizing how superior I am to the common folk recently, I also found out that I am psychic and.. OH... I see.. a vision OOOHHHH!!!! It's Klusa White.. and.... and.... he seems to have fallen backstage.
The tron flickered to life again and proved Haven to be the Prophetess she claimed she was. On the ground backstage somewhere was Klusa, his inertia inert, face down. Not far from him was a lead pipe painted pink with glitter designs all over it. The fans quickly put two and two together and booed the hated woman in the ring, as she merely nodded once with a proud posture.
Wolverina: Am I great or what? And here you people thought that Mexicant had picked up a last minute leaf blowing job and ducked out on you.
The crowd jeered even louder at the racist remark, even though White isn't even Mexican, he's from Europe. Meh, same difference though.
Wolverina: Nope. Looks like he got his butt beat down by a angry tooth fairy or some kind of tinkerbell princess. What a noob. Seriously Grimey? Is this the best you can offer me? Tell you what Grimster, have your people call my people, we'll do lunch. Because I am not coming back out here for little scraps and wrestle people who can't even make it to the ring.
With that she dropped the mic and forced the ref to open the ropes for her before departing.
EOM
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Post by "Arcane" Klusa White on Nov 10, 2011 18:24:18 GMT -5
(I apologize for posting after the "EOM", but I thought it was fitting for me to at least say something.)
The battle anthem, "Valhalla" by Black Sabbath, hits the speakers that are wide-spread throughout the GHW Arena as the audience's attention is caught and heads turn to the stage. Wolverina, who has just had her regal departure interrupted, does not look happy by any means. The spotlight detaches itself from her and it slithers through the air and lands on the outlined form of Klusa White, standing atop the descending incline, upon the stage. Klusa's face is smudged with a cocky smile, and he chuckles to himself while shaking his head at Wolfie, who is now back inside the confines of the ring ropes. White holds up the microphone in his hand, ready to speak before Wolverina can make another sarcastic comment about the former Television Championship.
"Oh, I'm sorry, 'princess.' I forgot that the universe revolves around you. Say, how about I treat you to lunch instead of Mister Grimey. Unlike him, I can afford to feed your enormous ego. And you call me a little scrap? No, no, no. See, I'm genetically superior to you. Not because I am a man, but because I am Klusa White. My genetically superior mitochondria had to make ATP for better reasons than fighting the likes of you. For example, defending my Television Championship. And I only came up short because I felt bad for showing you up and decided to come over here and verbally wipe that shit stain you call 'talent' off of your face. Now, did you understand all of that, Miss Wolverine? If not, I understand. I didn't expect a Blue Collar American to understand anyways. So, for you, I've prepared a simplified version."
With a smile still traced by the contours of his face, he reaches into the back pocket of his jeans, and pulls out a folded up piece of loose leaf paper. He quickly unfolds the paper and holds it before his eyes, reading slowly.
"Wolverina is a waste of space."
His thin accent fades from the microphone and he crumbles up the paper into a ball and tosses it out into the audience, done with it as he chuckles to himself and his cold gaze meets Wolverina's.
"Now, I do recall hearing that you were a champion before you were fired. As much as I'd never want to fight with the abandoned lovechild of Megan Fox and Jaggeroth's body fat, I do love gold. And you were the, how you say, Harlot of the Deathmatch Champion, no? So, how about this? Next week on Triumph, we have an actual match. And the winner gets match for the Deathmatch Championship. What do you say?"
[/i]
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Post by Jaggeroth's wench. on Nov 10, 2011 23:26:36 GMT -5
Boy oh boy was she mad. Her face had turned red as an apple from his words and insults, but only one cheap-shot remark had really dug under her skin. With anger in her normally southern belle tone, she lashed out at him, her finger pointing threateningly up the ramp, her pitch so high that fans covered their ears.
Wolverina: Don't you ever.... EVER..... EEEEEEVVVEEERRRRRRR call me..... BLUE COLLAR again!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not blue collar, I'm not white collar, I'm no collar. I am higher than high-class and richer than the richest. I don't "keep up with the Jones'", I leave them in the dust! Oh boy you've done went and done it now!
Her initial huffing and puffing simmered down enough for her to return to the regal posture she has claimed as of late, then she sauntered forward a bit cocky, a coy little smirk finding its way across her flawless features. The People's Princess leaned into the ropes, her hand balling into a fist save for her tiny little pinkie finger, which she wiggled faintly back and forth at him.
Wolverina: Do you know what this is, little man? No... no it's not a size replica of that grain of rice you call a penis. This represents my last nerve and you just stepped on it! How dare you wander in from the field of peasants and blaspheme my great and Queenly name, then have the audacity, the unmitigated gaul to cast forth a CHALLENGE! But even so, let me answer it. The answer is no. It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Because you are not a challenge. You are nothing. You are five feet nothing, two hundred nothing pounds, and hail from nothing, Europe. On your birth certificate, where your name is supposed to be, there's nothing there it's just blank. It doesn't matter what you had for dinner! Because your parents and the medical professionals who delivered you knew even then that you were nothing and would amount to... guess what.... NOTHING! A former TV Champ huh? Whoopie Doo! Been there, done that, times 3! Did you even hold that title long enough to be called a champion, or was it about as short as Dustin Delta's KOTDM title reign, or better yet, was it as short as your average time in bed bumping uglies? Don't answer that, we are smart enough to know the answer, it was a rhetorical question. Oh and most REAL champions don't make excuses for their loses, they deal with it. But here you are, typical European, excuses excuses excuses. Heck, the only reason you won that title was because the champion probably slipped on a banana peel in the ring and bumped his head. You certainly don't have the skill set to wrestle down ANYONE, except for maybe your "mangina", which given its size or um haha lack thereof would be nothing to boast about.
Despite the crowd's clear hatred of the GodQueen, they "Ooooh'd" at her insults. Although wearing a mask to conceal his ugly ass face, Klusa could be seen none to pleased with his manhood being called into question, thus prompting him to walk toward the ring before stopping mid way.
Wolverina: Another reason why I reject your challenge is because you mistakenly think, as does the rest of these peons, that Dominik Santiago is the legitimate King of the Deathmatch Champion. He is not. I am. In fact, next time you decide to kill a tree like you just did with that paper, you might want to draw a KOTDM title belt on it and cut it out, then deliver it to Mr. Lord of the Lies, because maybe just maybe he'll get the symbolism behind it and stop carrying around that fallacy he claimed at H-Lames.
Uh oh, the patrons are back to booing again.
Wolverina: SHUT THE HELL UP PEOPLE! The Queen is making a decree!!!! Whatever (she face palms the crowd) anyway, do not fret underling. While I do not accept your challenge, I will be more than happy to bloody this canvas with that scrotum you call a face hidden under that mask. That's right. I don't need or want a stupid title shot stipulation to fight a paper champion for a paper title. You besmirched my Queenly name and must suffer the proper whooping of the ass for it. So tell you what. Next week, if you can pull yourself away from finding the sniper in the bushes in the bathroom, come down to the ring and receive the beating I have decreed. When I win, not "if", the only stipulation I need is that you must then be my "Mussy" (Man Pu**y) for a full 7 days. What that entails is simply this: you carry my bags, bring me my spice chi lattes, open the doors and ring ropes for me, wash my feet although you don't really deserve to, and bow down worship me no less than 5 times per day... simple things. No need to accept or decline, you were going to be subjected to my exceedingly great awesomehood anyway. That is all. The Queen hath spoken.
The announcement had been made. Wolverina dropped the mic, smirked and winked just before the feed cut to a commercial.
EOT (I think?) OOC: And, no, if I win we can work it to where Klusa gets the better of her each time she tries to make him do stuff, so it's all good.
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Post by "Arcane" Klusa White on Nov 10, 2011 23:54:38 GMT -5
The amount of genitalia and premature ejaculation jokes is disturbingly excessive, ma'am.
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Post by Jaggeroth's wench. on Nov 10, 2011 23:56:32 GMT -5
It happens when older virgin girls want to have sex but can't yet. It's an outlet, sir.
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Post by "Arcane" Klusa White on Nov 10, 2011 23:57:45 GMT -5
Ah, very good.
I look forward to working with you, Wolfie.
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Post by Psychotic Circus on Nov 13, 2011 11:46:29 GMT -5
My penis has been here the entire time, yet she won't jump on it. I mean, I'm not the biggest man in the world, but it's not like she'd know any better.
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