Post by Violet Rayne on Mar 23, 2010 5:31:34 GMT -6
The three and a half month Cosmonaut title reign of Violet Rayne had ended. But there was no time to deal with that as the new Mr. Johnson had her on house shows serving Pineapples wherever she was only to be turning around and facing another Rampage. Her infamous post-match interviews were lost in the buffer and if you were looking for her at Station Zero? Yeah, she was there but you just missed her an hour ago.
The Pressure Dome came to their feet as their equally collective Ugly Step Sister burst through the curtains with an extra spring to her step. She had carried that title so long she forgot how light her clodder dance moves were. From one end of the stage to the other she thrashed her violet locks... her merchandise was flash frozen for eternal freshness as she slapped hands and tossed T-shirts all the way down the ramp, securing that bottom line until she rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring.
"Seattle! I missed you! I missed you and I was only just here a second ago. That's just how main spot you all are." The crowd loved the love and Violet smiled before she continued on. "Station Zero was lovely, I would like to thank that Russian-cyborg Daniels for the trip. I almost forgot where I came from... where we all came from! The dreaded triple zed." She had the people relating. She was their combat ready princess, refreshed to the second line and ready for more.
"Now somewhere in my CWE almanac of useless facts, I'm pretty sure it says that this is a good day to plant Marigolds. There's also a 60% of precipitation and morning dew, and a 100% chance that Violet Rayne is cashing in her re-match clause as soon as Mr. Johnson figures out what day we are all really living on!"
The crowd cheered loudly, but Violet Rayne wasn't quite finished yet. "You can call it any way you like. But the way I see it on the station board it reads: The longest reigning Diva champion in history is going to turn Jessica Daniels, and her immaculate/futuristic ass, into the shortest. It's the new math and you don't need all twelve of your cyborg fingers to figure that one out."
"So take a deep breath, feel the gold and count that extra digit on the end of Mr. Johnson's tally card. Because you say you're back? I'm calling you a liar, you're just a one night guest in the Hotel Sierra. Your not passing, just through."
Violet Rayne takes careful aim with her new, imaginary, cyborg killing finger gun and fires point blank into the camera.
"End of line."
She mouths her favorite words.
The Pressure Dome came to their feet as their equally collective Ugly Step Sister burst through the curtains with an extra spring to her step. She had carried that title so long she forgot how light her clodder dance moves were. From one end of the stage to the other she thrashed her violet locks... her merchandise was flash frozen for eternal freshness as she slapped hands and tossed T-shirts all the way down the ramp, securing that bottom line until she rolls under the bottom rope and into the ring.
"Seattle! I missed you! I missed you and I was only just here a second ago. That's just how main spot you all are." The crowd loved the love and Violet smiled before she continued on. "Station Zero was lovely, I would like to thank that Russian-cyborg Daniels for the trip. I almost forgot where I came from... where we all came from! The dreaded triple zed." She had the people relating. She was their combat ready princess, refreshed to the second line and ready for more.
"Now somewhere in my CWE almanac of useless facts, I'm pretty sure it says that this is a good day to plant Marigolds. There's also a 60% of precipitation and morning dew, and a 100% chance that Violet Rayne is cashing in her re-match clause as soon as Mr. Johnson figures out what day we are all really living on!"
The crowd cheered loudly, but Violet Rayne wasn't quite finished yet. "You can call it any way you like. But the way I see it on the station board it reads: The longest reigning Diva champion in history is going to turn Jessica Daniels, and her immaculate/futuristic ass, into the shortest. It's the new math and you don't need all twelve of your cyborg fingers to figure that one out."
"So take a deep breath, feel the gold and count that extra digit on the end of Mr. Johnson's tally card. Because you say you're back? I'm calling you a liar, you're just a one night guest in the Hotel Sierra. Your not passing, just through."
Violet Rayne takes careful aim with her new, imaginary, cyborg killing finger gun and fires point blank into the camera.
"End of line."
She mouths her favorite words.