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| "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to TWW Wrap-up. I'm your host, Simon Marsh, and we've got a great show for you tonight." [Simon Marsh sits in a comfortable chair on a constructed set. A black curtain hangs behind him, and an empty chair sits next to his.] "We'll be discussing the upcoming Pay-Per-View that was just announced, we'll take a look back at Shockwave and Lightning, and we'll....." [A streak of black, dirty yellow, and gray enters the scene and rushes toward Simon. A small figure, taking care to keep its back to the camera, is engaged in animated activity with Simon. Marsh might have screamed once, but now only muffled sounds of protest emit from the TWW commentator. The mysterious intruder finally turns to face the camera: it's Loki The Trickster. The diminuative wrestler steps aside to reveal Simon Marsh, silenced by a piece of duct tape firmly in place over his mouth. Likewise, the tape wrapped around his wrists secure him to his chair. Loki pats Simon's head reassuringly and mutters a heartfelt "Sorry." The Trickster then turns his full attention to the camera.] "Greetings and salutations! It is I, Loki The Trickster, recuperating and resting from a rather strenuous return to the squared circle. It's been over a year since the wrestling ring was graced by the prescence of The Trickster, and the pain never really truly sets in until a day or two afterward. My muscles are screaming with an agony akin to liquid fire, and my knees feel as though they've been cared for by a meat tenderizer. My back is sorer than it's ever been, and my neck has a new, peculiar angle to it, but all these pains and discomforts pale in comparison to the baseball-size lump on the back of my cranium. I guess that is what happens when you get blindsided by a brick... "Before I continue and, eventually, get to my point, I would like to offer my most sincere and humblest apologies to Mr. Marsh (for obvious reasons), and to President Swift for this gross misappropriation of company resources and personel. I do solemnly promise to be more considerate in the future and schedule my words of wisdom and a time more...convinient for all involved. "My main point of contention tonight -- indeed, the piece of jagged metal in my cereal bowl -- is a man who calls himself The Graduate. I myself am a learned man, and thus I fully comprehend and appreciate the value of a higher education, but I fear that I missed the identity of this man's alma mater. Could it be that The Graduate is ASHAMED of his graduation from and affiliation with Armando's Beauty Academy? It is dreadfully apparent that the man has no true intelligence: he claims to champion the ideals and fundamentals of wrestling, but makes his introduction by interferring in my match and smacking me in the back of the head with a brick! Which one is it going to be, Mr. Graduate? Are you a the skilled professional who pledges to uphold the true spirit of wrestling, or are you a common, brick-toting thug? I contend that you, sir, are nothing more than a sham and a phoney, and that you shall get your comeuppance in short order. "I have an EXTENSIVE background in wrestling, and unlike yourself do not mind sullying my hands or reputation once in a while for the sake of my faithful followers. What I propose to you, The Graduate, is a match the likes of which have yet to be seen in this or any federation. I challenge you to meet me in a PUBLIC LIBRARY for a fight of the hardcore variety. I will be more than happy to prove to the roster of Tidal Wave Wrestling that Loki The Trickster is more than just some old cruiserweight, and I shall be ECSTATIC to teach The Graduate a lesson in humility that he so desparately deserves. Ultimately, the decision lies in the hands of our esteemed President, but I shall rally all my resources and considerable charm to make this match happen. "Graduate, have you tasted any good books lately?" [Loki winks directly into the camera and sprints off of the set and out of sight. Stage hands rush forward to free Simon, and the scene abruptly black out.] |
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