That
telltale guitar strum played across the speakers, sending sparks of excitement throughout the crowd. The strum played again and the lights went red and yellow. Spanish guitar played softly as the words "La Santa" displayed on the screen in a stylised script. When the music's tempo accelerated, La Santa herself, FTW Commissioner Gabriela Dos Santos strode onto the stage. While clips of her wrestling in her famous lucha-style mask with her ornate ringwear played on the screen, she was in a simple burgundy pantsuit and matching pumps.
"And yet another once-great woman sacrifices herself upon the altar of Hillary Clinton's nonexistent fashion sense," I quipped sneeringly to no one in particular, standing at the monitor near Gorilla position.
My raiment, like the ubiquitous pantsuit, had practicality in mind as well, but in my case, there was less of a need for a businesslike appearance and more of a desire to push merch sales. There was a bog-standard Countdown hoodie, worn over my shoulders, but without my arms in the sleeves. I wouldn't be needing the mag-lite on this trip. I wouldn't need the hoodie either if it weren't for an email that I received claiming to be from an attorney retained by Megan pointing out a contractual obligation for all Countdown members to appear in Countdown merch. The number of typos in the email made me doubt the alleged attorney's existence, but the clause was in fact there. I'd had it put in myself to make sure everyone was wearing kit I'd get a cut of. Bloody purple-headed git figured out how to make that cut two ways.
The tight black denim shorts were just to show off my legs and my arse.
Speaking of silly women with silly dye-jobs, Tiffany arrived. I looked away from her, glancing back to the monitor where Gabriela was saying something or other. I noted that not only was she out there, so were the two newest "road agents", the tag team formerly known as Peace and Love Incorporated. I sneered, glancing Tiffany's way and saying,
"Looks like La Santa doesn't want me putting you out before the PPV." Out in the ring, La Santa's voice rose a bit, so I guess she was getting to the intros.
Tiffany smirked at me, saying, "See you out there, hon."
I made an exaggerated gesture towards the curtains. She raised a platinum eyebrow in my direction. Bloody hell, I thought this woman had been around the block. The peroxide must have leaked into her brain.
"Champ goes last," I said, patting the front plate of the FTW championship around my waist.
"Last I checked," she answered, "MY music didn't start with ticking."
My head jolted to the side, looking at the monitor. It was showing the beginning of my video, and yes, I did hear the start of my music. My teeth clenched and I headed for the curtain, stopping and waiting for my cue before the chime struck and I pushed through the curtain. I walked onto the stage, trying to maintain a haughty expression but inside seething. That bloody Spanish....
"ggggggrrrrrrraaahhhhh" I growled, lifting my arms and throwing the hoodie off of my shoulders, revealing the white t-shirt underneath, my newest. It combined the CQ pocketwatch logo with block letters on the front reading:
CHAMPION
QUEEN
and on the back in stylised script:
Callista
Quinn
I turned to face the screen, showing off both sides of the new shirt before sauntering down the aisle. I walked around the ring, stopping at the announce desk and scooting up onto the table. Turning a bit, I reached over towards Larry van Keel, pulling the headset off of his head.
"What are you doing?!" the announcer said as I slipped the headset over my ears, adjusted the microphone and stretched out on the table like a cat in a sunbeam, smiling at La Santa's suppressed look of consternation.
"What I always do," I answered without looking at him, sliding my legs together and showing off for the camera,
"saving this show and your jobs.""And I can't thank you enough!" Richard Perle said.
"The only thing better than the champ joining us on commentary is not having to listen to van Keel's prattling."
"I'm right here, you Judas," Larry said sourly, arms crossed as he glared at his commentary partner.
"Hopefully they've managed to find Tiffany," I said, talking over the commissioner's intro of the blond for the viewers at home.
"Naturally the champ SHOULD come out last, but word is poor Tiff saw a sign that said 'Exit Only' and there's been no sign of her since." Perle laughed heartily, while van Keel rolled his eyes.
"It's why they don't let her drive anymore, you know. She'd come to an intersection with a stop sign and just sit there waiting for it to turn green."AC/DC's
Thunderstruck blared out over the arena's speakers.
"Oh good," I said, a mock-pleased look on my face.
"They've found her. The last time she got lost turned into a three-state manhunt until we found her in a supermarket checking milk cartons for her picture."
"Will you stop?" van Keel said, while Perle almost fell out of his chair from laughing so hard.
I glanced back in Larry's direction, shaking my head and pointing at my head, saying cheerfully,
"Sorry mate, can't hear you. You should really get a headset on."That appeared to be the last straw for Larry van Keel, as he stood up abruptly, hands reaching forward. The smile vanished from my face and I fixed him with a look that promised nothing but misery. His hands stopped where they were, and he appeared to think better of what he'd been about to do. After further consideration, he reached over to his laughing broadcast partner and pulled the headset off of HIS headset.
"HEY!" Perle shouted, sitting back up straight again.
"Never mind," I said,
"Looks like the Peroxide Queen has finally made it to the ring." I took the headset off and handed it to Rick Perle before rolling off the table and heading for the ring stairs. He put it on, at which point he and van Keel realized the cords were tangled, and they said about engaging in a routine that looked like part Abbott and Costello and part Three Stooges to switch them back.
When I climbed into the ring, I was immediately greeted by Tiffany, who had apparently caught snippets of my commentary and apparently wanted to offer a critique. She did this by getting right up into my face, going nose to nose with me and making some rather lofty promises about an impending match. This caused the large gentlemen present to intervene, pushing arms in between us and pulling the blonde away from me. I opened my mouth and placed my hand there, feigning a yawn while she went on.
Eventually, La Santa interposed herself between us, looking in Tiffany's direction and trying to take control of the situation.
"Let's hear from Tiffany fiEI!" she said, the last as I'd casually snuck up behind and ripped the mic from her hand while her goons were busy restraining Tiffany.
"No let's NOT hear from Tiffany first," I said, smiling, but allowing my pique to show through. La Santa stared daggers at me but declined to make any sort of move in my direction. Fine. I wasn't going anywhere.
"Partly because Tiffany has nothing of interest to say, but mostly because I've had more than enough of this from YOU, Gabriela." Tiffany had apparently calmed down enough that either Peace or Love (I realise those weren't their names, but honestly I couldn't care less,) was able to head back, but while I was close to the commissioner, and staring her down, I wasn't touching her.
"I'd imagine it's rough having to hang up the boots. Knowing that for all your honours and accolades, that you have a score to settle. You have a score to settle, with me, and you'll never, ever be able to." I smiled, not pleasantly.
"It's got to really sting," I added,
"but you will simply have to Get. Over. It. I am the FTW champion, and if THAT," I said derisively, pointing at Tiffany without looking at her,
"is the best you've got to bring up against me, then I am going to be the FTW champion for a LONG time. The little slights and petty revenges end NOW, Gabriela. Do you understand me? No more making me go out first, and we're certainly not going to have any more of you putting me in matches against opponents so far beneath me that it's an insult to even put me in the same ring with them."I glanced in Tiffany's direction, before looking back to the FTW Commissioner.
"Like now. No, sorry, this one won't do. Find someone better. I'll wait," at which point I headed for the corner, hopping up onto the second rope, turning around and seating myself on the top corner pad, keeping the mic with me. La Santa's glare at me was only matched by Tiffany's for heat. I smiled, crossing my legs and waiting there as the timekeeper brought another mic to the ring, handing it through the ropes.
