Post by Lana de la Croix on May 31, 2010 2:14:38 GMT -5
*The opening riff of "The Brown Bull of Cooley" blasts through the W*I*G-Sphere as the crowd starts booing instantly. After about 40 seconds of this, Maeve O'Hare, dressed in a tight-fitting black top & jeans, makes her way out from behind the curtain & the booing seems only to increase.*
Howard Finkel: Ladies & Gentlemen, please welcome to the W*I*G-Sphere at this time... MAEVE... O~HARE!!!
*Maeve pays no attention to the audience as she marches on down towards the ring. She demands the microphone from "The Fink" & he hands it over before quickly exiting the ring.*
Maeve: I'll just make this quick & simple. Straight in, no messin'! Lana de la Croix. At Hannukah Hell you had absolutely NO business getting involved in that title match. Aidan was trying to help your man, Chaz Stone, win & all you did was attack him. While I was there trying to explain to you how this was all for the benefit of you & your associates you simply attacked me with NO provocation!
*The audience boos at Maeve's ever-so-slight bending of the truth. This prompts Maeve to finally look around at the fans in the W*I*G-Sphere.*
Maeve: That is EXACTLY what happened & you know it! Lana, love, I know that you're not getting the title re-match you don't deserve with your mate Fannie at our next PPV, so how about instead, you try to face a superior competitor in me? Or are you afraid that you just can't cut it against a woman who won't take it easy on you like your big mate?
*Maeve waits in the ring, her eyes locked on the entrance ramp. As the seconds tick by with no response from Lana, the Irishwoman begins to smirk.*
Maeve: Come on now, love…I thought you had more backbone than this. I’m disappointed in y—
*She’s cut off by the opening chords of “The World is Not Enough," by Garbage hitting over the speaker system. The lights go down, then come back up in the now-familiar blue and white. Lana appears at the top of the ramp, wearing a simple blue, figure-skimming dress that falls to her calves, along with pearls and silver heels. She has a mic in hand and she doesn’t look impressed. The crowd cheers for the petite heiress and she gives them a few moments to calm down before she begins speaking as she heads down toward the ring.*
Lana: Now wait jes’ a cotton-pickin’ minute, Maeve. Ah know dat you mus’ be upse’ dat you ain’ so much as touched dat bel’ in de longes’…bu’ dat ain’ no reason fo’ you ta talk so hateful ta me.
*She steps into the ring and looks up at Maeve, having to crane her neck to meet the taller woman’s eyes, even in her high-heeled shoes.*
Maeve: Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt the spoiled little princess’ feelings?
Lana: *now looking a bit peeved* Ah ain’ spoiled, an’ Ah ain’ concerned with’ what you t’ink o’ me. Unlike you, Ah’ve had ta work hard fo’ mah wins…not ever’body has a whole slew o’ cheatin’ bastards jes’ waitin’ in de wings ta rush ou’ an’ save de day.
Maeve: Maybe that’s because your so-called friends don’t care as much as they claim to. Team Ireland works together and we win together because of that.
Lana: *eyeroll* Be dat as it may, if’n Ah accept a match wit’ you, dat’s exac’ly what Ah wan’. You an’ me, one on one…not Aidan, nor Sean or Shane…an’ certainly no’ yo’ daddy. If’n yer no’ afraid to be alone in de ring wit’ me, den you’re on.
Maeve: *smirk* I’m not afraid of you, or any other woman who’s ever laced up a pair of boots. You’re on.
*She extends her hand to Lana, who eyes it as she might a snake.*
Lana: Maeve, Ah’d nevah question de word o’ a lady, bu’ as fo’ you… Ah shouldn’ even say dis, as one woman ta anot’er, bu’ Ah wouldn’ trust you ‘s far as Ah could sling a piano. Bu’ Ah know you, beddah den you migh’ t’ink, an’ Ah know you’ll be hones’ if dere’s somet’in’ in it fo’ you…name yo’ price.
*A smirk crosses Maeve's face.*
Maeve: Love, there's nothing you have that I could possibly want... Your mates on the other hand...
Lana: Oh, so you wan' anudda sho' at Fannie so she can beat you silly again? Ah'm sure she'd--
Maeve: Ah, not her, darlin'. I'm talking about the other big fella carrying around a large gold belt. Providing that he can even beat Aidan, like.
Lana: Wait...you wan' be to give you a title match 'gains' Chaz?
Maeve: That's what I'm asking. But if you think he'd be scared of facing another Irish opponent...
Lana: Ah don' t'ink dat at all. Ah ain' nevah seen him scared o' not'in', leas' o' all you an' yo' cronies. An' Ah'm sho dat he'd be mo' dan willin' ta offah you a sho', if'n he t'inks you deserve it. Bu' dat ain' mah place ta say. If yo' feelin' so ballsy, go an' ask him yo'self.
Maeve: Very well--I'll do just that, providing Aidan doesn't take that belt from him first.
*The Irishwoman gives Lana a smile and extends her hand again in an apparent sign of peace.*
Maeve: What do you say? Do we have an agreement?
Lana: *takes the proferred handshake* Yeah, yo' on. May de bes' woman win.
*The scene fades to commercial as the two women continue to lock eyes in the middle of the ring.*
Howard Finkel: Ladies & Gentlemen, please welcome to the W*I*G-Sphere at this time... MAEVE... O~HARE!!!
*Maeve pays no attention to the audience as she marches on down towards the ring. She demands the microphone from "The Fink" & he hands it over before quickly exiting the ring.*
Maeve: I'll just make this quick & simple. Straight in, no messin'! Lana de la Croix. At Hannukah Hell you had absolutely NO business getting involved in that title match. Aidan was trying to help your man, Chaz Stone, win & all you did was attack him. While I was there trying to explain to you how this was all for the benefit of you & your associates you simply attacked me with NO provocation!
*The audience boos at Maeve's ever-so-slight bending of the truth. This prompts Maeve to finally look around at the fans in the W*I*G-Sphere.*
Maeve: That is EXACTLY what happened & you know it! Lana, love, I know that you're not getting the title re-match you don't deserve with your mate Fannie at our next PPV, so how about instead, you try to face a superior competitor in me? Or are you afraid that you just can't cut it against a woman who won't take it easy on you like your big mate?
*Maeve waits in the ring, her eyes locked on the entrance ramp. As the seconds tick by with no response from Lana, the Irishwoman begins to smirk.*
Maeve: Come on now, love…I thought you had more backbone than this. I’m disappointed in y—
*She’s cut off by the opening chords of “The World is Not Enough," by Garbage hitting over the speaker system. The lights go down, then come back up in the now-familiar blue and white. Lana appears at the top of the ramp, wearing a simple blue, figure-skimming dress that falls to her calves, along with pearls and silver heels. She has a mic in hand and she doesn’t look impressed. The crowd cheers for the petite heiress and she gives them a few moments to calm down before she begins speaking as she heads down toward the ring.*
Lana: Now wait jes’ a cotton-pickin’ minute, Maeve. Ah know dat you mus’ be upse’ dat you ain’ so much as touched dat bel’ in de longes’…bu’ dat ain’ no reason fo’ you ta talk so hateful ta me.
*She steps into the ring and looks up at Maeve, having to crane her neck to meet the taller woman’s eyes, even in her high-heeled shoes.*
Maeve: Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt the spoiled little princess’ feelings?
Lana: *now looking a bit peeved* Ah ain’ spoiled, an’ Ah ain’ concerned with’ what you t’ink o’ me. Unlike you, Ah’ve had ta work hard fo’ mah wins…not ever’body has a whole slew o’ cheatin’ bastards jes’ waitin’ in de wings ta rush ou’ an’ save de day.
Maeve: Maybe that’s because your so-called friends don’t care as much as they claim to. Team Ireland works together and we win together because of that.
Lana: *eyeroll* Be dat as it may, if’n Ah accept a match wit’ you, dat’s exac’ly what Ah wan’. You an’ me, one on one…not Aidan, nor Sean or Shane…an’ certainly no’ yo’ daddy. If’n yer no’ afraid to be alone in de ring wit’ me, den you’re on.
Maeve: *smirk* I’m not afraid of you, or any other woman who’s ever laced up a pair of boots. You’re on.
*She extends her hand to Lana, who eyes it as she might a snake.*
Lana: Maeve, Ah’d nevah question de word o’ a lady, bu’ as fo’ you… Ah shouldn’ even say dis, as one woman ta anot’er, bu’ Ah wouldn’ trust you ‘s far as Ah could sling a piano. Bu’ Ah know you, beddah den you migh’ t’ink, an’ Ah know you’ll be hones’ if dere’s somet’in’ in it fo’ you…name yo’ price.
*A smirk crosses Maeve's face.*
Maeve: Love, there's nothing you have that I could possibly want... Your mates on the other hand...
Lana: Oh, so you wan' anudda sho' at Fannie so she can beat you silly again? Ah'm sure she'd--
Maeve: Ah, not her, darlin'. I'm talking about the other big fella carrying around a large gold belt. Providing that he can even beat Aidan, like.
Lana: Wait...you wan' be to give you a title match 'gains' Chaz?
Maeve: That's what I'm asking. But if you think he'd be scared of facing another Irish opponent...
Lana: Ah don' t'ink dat at all. Ah ain' nevah seen him scared o' not'in', leas' o' all you an' yo' cronies. An' Ah'm sho dat he'd be mo' dan willin' ta offah you a sho', if'n he t'inks you deserve it. Bu' dat ain' mah place ta say. If yo' feelin' so ballsy, go an' ask him yo'self.
Maeve: Very well--I'll do just that, providing Aidan doesn't take that belt from him first.
*The Irishwoman gives Lana a smile and extends her hand again in an apparent sign of peace.*
Maeve: What do you say? Do we have an agreement?
Lana: *takes the proferred handshake* Yeah, yo' on. May de bes' woman win.
*The scene fades to commercial as the two women continue to lock eyes in the middle of the ring.*