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The Lucky Ones kicked into high gear, echoing the BURN-IN-HELL! chant.
Hozier: I watch the work of my kin bold and boyful Toying somewhere between love and abuse...
Smith: Folks, we're fresh off of Superbattle and what a night it was, especially for this...monster!!
Brunswick: A visit from the self proclaimed "LINE" between icons and midcard...The Womanbeast is opening up the show here tonight for God knows what!
Hozier: Calling to join them the wretched and joyful Shaking the wings of their terrible youths...
The slow, soulful vocals oozed from the speakers as "1st" appeared on both tron screens in bold white, and counted up by that method. 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th...and held on darkness as the Lucky Ones started howling when..."10th" materialized larger than life on both screens, drawing a huge pop from the Lucky Ones and a palpable wave of reaction from the other portions of the crowd.
Hozier: Freshly disowned in some frozen devotion No more alone or myself could I be Looks like a strain to the arms it were open No shortage of sordid, no protest from me...
The lights came on in gold, revealing Suerte, looking up from her folded hands and bent knee. She looked up from her hands, stood slowly and marched down the ramp at a calm pace. Her eyes staring into the rafters and warrens.
Saget: Making her way to the ring from Sacramento California, standing at 7'1'', weighing in at 257lbs...The Womanbeast...SSSUUUEERRRTEEE!!!!
An audible pop sounded as Suerte neared the edge of the ramp. She dropped her gaze but it still seemed to be staring through rather than at anything.
Making the apron, she rounded to the stairs, ascended, and stepped over the ropes.
Saget practically tossed her the mic when she motioned for, and vacated the ring fast. Suerte stayed stock still in the center of the ring, letting the Dominar and BURN-IN-HELL! chants, as well as other crowd participations of a vocal nature work themselves out before she raised the mic to her lips.
Suerte: Charleston...I AM!
Crowd popping at the now notable self aggrandizing, and cheap pop of course.
Suerte: Tonight, in fact, WE ARE...
Another wave of positive vibes washed in for the cheap poppery.
Suerte: Last night, I need to explain myself, my actions...but not to management for damn near setting Miami on fire. Not to four Legendary men, because my actions towards them got the point across at the Superbattle...no, I must explain myself to you, the Lucky Ones...and to you, the Lucky One!
Crowd murmuring, light popping, some smarks and marks tossing up a necessary cadre of heat.
Suerte: I wept for you, Aurelius. Not because I and you were in tremendous, synapses burning agony, no. Not because I had mauled you within an inch of your life, and you beating me senseless...no. I cried because I realized...just how beautiful you are...how beautiful you and I were in that moment, in that struggle.
Pausing, Suerte started to pace about the ring, regarding the canvas.
Suerte: I gave you what you desired, what you needed, and you exceeded all my expectations with it, and my hopes that you would stay with me here below...well they flew. I sobbed tears because I realized then that you were meant for so much more than me, that you belong to the upper tier...and my foolish heart...my fissile passion, well, it was hard for it to bear. I could not keep you for myself.
The crowd booed at these remarks, the cultish Lucky Ones cheered like the sycophants that they were.
Suerte: As I open the gate for you, loose you on the upper levels, understand that should you...fall short of the glory...I will be here, waiting with open, welcoming arms...now, on to other matters...
The crowd collectively gave up a chuckle for the open arms remark.
Suerte: On to matters where I am not destroying things that are beautiful...I issue an open challenge to any rookie, any midcarder, and anyone else looking to test themselves for the next level.
If you wish to be loosed, then you must pass through me.
No other choice.
You want to fight with the likes of the Siege? With Razer and Bella Quinn? Against the Onslaught? Or returning Legends like, Marcus Falco, and Alex LeBlanc? Or perhaps be like Reese Lynch and take a shot at Adam Xclusiv? Those dreams are yours if I don't break them in the ring...our ring, where we will fight and grow together...burn with one another...BURN...IN...HELL...
Dropping the mic, Suerte's music hit the tron as she vacated the ring and headed up the tron.
Smith: Laid down the gauntlet to the young, the talented, and the veteran fuck ups all at once!
Brunswick: That she did...what will become of this, this Suerte Protocol?
The scene faded to black and a commercial break...
-end-
Gotta take his word for it, guys, he's wearing Polka Dots...
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