An empty stage. A single spotlight snapped into the center of that stage and a round of applause rose up. A voice supplied by a disembodied voice rang out to those gathered.
| Tiffany | And now we proudly present..Paul London!
London himself swaggered onto the stage as the cheers grew louder. He was dressed in a black lab coat, slacks and dress shirt. So he didn't look too solemn, he wore a pink and black striped tie as well as a pair of bright pink sneakers. Spreading his arms out, he soaked up the jubilation from the club goers at this late evening. London's exploits had become noteworthy in these swanky type of dives. The neerdowell's couldn't wait to see how he would entertain them on this particular night. If Paul London showed up to your club, you were going to have a night to remember. After his victory lap he lightly tapped the microphone propped up in front of him and leaned forward.
| Paul London | It would seem as though my lovely announcer has forgotten one very important detail. For you see, I stand before you tonight not simply as Paul London, EBWF Superstar Extraordinaire. You can know acknowledge me as Paul London..Intercontinental Champion!
London threw his arms to the sky and more cheers rose up. Tiffany stepped out onto the stage carrying the title in question which she handed to Paul. He promptly tossed it over his shoulder. Hanging out with London seemed to alter Tiffany's usual garish style of wardrobe a bit. She was now dressed in a light blue, glittery, low-cut dress and her overall look resembled a flapper from the 1920's.
| Paul London | Before we continue..can we PLEASE have a round of applause for the lovely Tiffany? Doesn't she just look SMASHING tonight?
More adulation was given to the pair and Tiffany responded by performing a curtsy and blowing a kiss to the masses.
| Paul London | Now it really come as no surprise to any of you that I was able to obtain this little trinket. All things considered, my opponent really wasn't in my league. As much as it pains me to say..Mr. Kennedy is something of a relic who's time may very well be up. Well, OK, it doesn't hurt me to say it at all! It's a laugh riot if you ask me! The defeated look on that poor sucker's face when he realized I had taken his title was a HOOT! I seriously thought the guy was going to cry!
Paul laughed in an overly obnoxious manner and Tiffany joined in as well in the same grating style.
| Paul London | Everything I said was true. I told him that he was a washed up loser who was never going to be able to achieve more than his somewhat meager accomplishments. And I was right! I TOLD him his schtick had gotten old and that hanging out with an even BIGGER loser in Goldust wasn't doing anything for his career. There just isn't a single interesting thing about the man. I told him to shake it up and start from scratch but would he listen to my kind words of advice?
The new champion exhaled deeply and Tiffany displayed her sadness by running a finger across her cheek to illustrate a single tear.
| Paul London | No. He didn't. And will probably, and loudly, proclaim that my victory was a fluke! A sham! A mockery! This very well may have already happened because this Sunday..live on pay per view..contact your cable or satellite provider for details..at our yearly AFTERMATH EXTRAVAGANZA..I once again find myself facing off against Ken Kennedy himself. To which I say to Ken..put 'em up!
London held up his fists and circled them about, somewhat in the same stance of the Notre Dame's "Fighting Irish" mascot.
| Paul London | I will not allow that bleach blonde buffoon to sully the good name of this illustrious title with his grubby little hands. No sir, no sir! I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if that were to occur. And frankly, ladies and gents, I'm not prepared to let that happen. Ken will surely snort and rage and SCREAM TO THE HEAVENS about how he's going to extract brutal revenge upon yours truly! We wrestlers tend to do that type of thing, you see.
As the crowd snickered, Paul briefly made eye contact with a rather buxom wench. He winked at her. The entire time only one thought drifted through his mind. What her face would look like if her skin was forcefully removed from it.
| Paul London | Before we continue..can we PLEASE have a round of applause for the lovely Tiffany? Doesn't she just look SMASHING tonight?
More adulation was given to the pair and Tiffany responded by performing a curtsy and blowing a kiss to the masses.
| Paul London | Now it really come as no surprise to any of you that I was able to obtain this little trinket. All things considered, my opponent really wasn't in my league. As much as it pains me to say..Mr. Kennedy is something of a relic who's time may very well be up. Well, OK, it doesn't hurt me to say it at all! It's a laugh riot if you ask me! The defeated look on that poor sucker's face when he realized I had taken his title was a HOOT! I seriously thought the guy was going to cry!
Paul laughed in an overly obnoxious manner and Tiffany joined in as well in the same grating style.
| Paul London | Everything I said was true. I told him that he was a washed up loser who was never going to be able to achieve more than his somewhat meager accomplishments. And I was right! I TOLD him his schtick had gotten old and that hanging out with an even BIGGER loser in Goldust wasn't doing anything for his career. There just isn't a single interesting thing about the man. I told him to shake it up and start from scratch but would he listen to my kind words of advice?
The new champion exhaled deeply and Tiffany displayed her sadness by running a finger across her cheek to illustrate a single tear.
| Paul London | No. He didn't. And will probably, and loudly, proclaim that my victory was a fluke! A sham! A mockery! This very well may have already happened because this Sunday..live on pay per view..contact your cable or satellite provider for details..at our yearly AFTERMATH EXTRAVAGANZA..I once again find myself facing off against Ken Kennedy himself. To which I say to Ken..put 'em up!
London held up his fists and circled them about, somewhat in the same stance of the Notre Dame's "Fighting Irish" mascot.
| Paul London | I will not allow that bleach blonde buffoon to sully the good name of this illustrious title with his grubby little hands. No sir, no sir! I wouldn't be able to sleep at night if that were to occur. And frankly, ladies and gents, I'm not prepared to let that happen. Ken will surely snort and rage and SCREAM TO THE HEAVENS about how he's going to extract brutal revenge upon yours truly! We wrestlers tend to do that type of thing, you see.
As the crowd snickered, Paul briefly made eye contact with a rather buxom wench. He winked at her. The entire time only one thought drifted through his mind. What her face would look like if her skin was forcefully removed from it.
| Paul London | ..But the fact remains..it is simply..a futile..effort. No amount of training or soul searching will possibly be enough for me to lose this encounter. He could swear on his great Grandmomma's eyes that he will do everything in his power to leave me a quivering, broken mess. Defeating me is truly out of his range! Compared to me, he is out of place..under dressed..and over classed. I took pity on him in our last encounter because he reminded me a canine that needed to be put down. On this occasion, I will show no such weakness. I will make it abundantly clear for all to see just how superior I am to my big mouthed adversary. And..I rather not tell you anymore about it. No. I would rather SING to you about it!
A second spotlight revealed a piano in the corner of the stage. Paul strolled on over to it and pulled up a seat. He flexed his fingers outwards but before he began to play he seemed to come up with a better idea.
The club goers rose their voices in approval once more. Tiffany sauntered on over to the piano, one hand resting upon her hip. She slinked her way on top of the piano, resting upon her stomach, dangling her legs in the air while London began to grace his fingers along the keys.
| Paul London | This tune, this classic, tune, is dedicated to my pride and joy..my new IC Title. Let's begin..
Tiffany lifted a microphone to her lips and began to sink. Apparently, all that time dressing like a popstar had paid off. Her singing voice wasn't half bad.
| Tiffany | I've got you under my skin.
I've got you deep in the heart of me.
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me.
I've got you under my skin..
I'd sacrifice anything, come what might.
For the sake of havin' you near.
In spite of a warning voice that comes in the night
And repeats, repeats in my ear..
Don't you know, you fool, ain't no chance to win..
Why not use your mentality - get up, wake up to reality..
I've got you under my skin..
After finishing their number, London and Tiffany bowed to the audience and headed backstage. The crowd went back to mingling, gallivanting and so forth. London sat backstage behind a desk and began to delicately slice a white substance with a small razor blade. After inhaling the powder white dust, he leaned his head back and drifted into a euphoric state. A knock came to the door. Closing his eyes, Paul grinned slightly while speaking.
| Paul London | ..To whom do I owe the pleasure?
In walked Cody Rhodes. A former IC Champion in his own right.
| Paul London | A co-worker? Surprising.
| Cody Rhodes | London, listen to me. I want in, alright? I want in the Midnight Gang. My career..
Cody paused and scowled in disgust at himself. As a prideful person, this stung to admit.
| Cody Rhodes | Has been dead for months. I can't stand it anymore. My father is a hall of famer and I'm lucky to even get a spot on television. Let me in. What do I have to do?
| Paul London | You could start by..I dunno..winning a match?
London swiped the small trickle of blood from his nostril and leaned forward in his chair.
| Paul London | But I do agree with you about one thing. You are a loser. You've done..nothing for months. You've fallen so very far. Why should I even consider letting you in?
| Cody Rhodes | Because I know Kennedy. I was helping him fight with The Trilogy. He hangs out with my brother. I know things. And I can tell you all about him. Things that can help make sure you walk out of Aftermath with that title.
Paul rose an eyebrow. This certainly was an intriguing proposition.
| Paul London | Interesting. You give me dirt on Kennedy and I let you join up. A fair trade for both of us, huh?
| Cody Rhodes | A fair trade. I've even wrote it down.
Cody tossed a yellow notepad onto Paul's lap and he began to thumb through whatever Rhodes may have jotted down. Paul titled his head side to side while reading, tapping his foot against the floor.
| Paul London | This. Is. Interesting. Goldust must be a real gossip. Aches and pains and sores and exactly where to target. But you would betray your own brother and your friend for your career?
| Cody Rhodes | They don't mean anything to me. At all. I care about myself.
| Paul London | Those are qualities we like here in the Midnight Gang.
London hopped to his feet and placed a hand on Cody's shoulder. The son of Dusty Rhodes smirked but it quickly faded as London began to speak.
| Paul London | But with our without this..or you..I don't need help with Ken. And The Midnight Gang doesn't need someone like you. Now please..don't ever come near me again. I know the security here. I could have you thrown out. Do I need to embarrass you more than you've already embarrassed yourself? After I defeat Ken for a second time..I'll tell your brother you said "Hello".
Cody looked dejected and heart broken. London gave his shoulder a pat before leaving the dressing room without giving him a second thought. Cody stared at his reflection in Paul's desk mounted mirror before covering his face in shame and humiliation.
No comments:
Post a Comment