Post by Cathy Fitch on May 3, 2016 17:55:18 GMT -5
*We see Cathy Fitch in elaborate “Sugar Skull” make-up and a deep purple hooded robe. She’s sitting on a throne made of bones and drinking a goblet full of something but you know it’s blood red because of the ambiance.*
Cathy: Cinco De Mayo…. The Day of the Dead. Celebrated every May Fifth in Mexico and other Spanish countries, it is a time of celebration and terror!! Three nights after this most horrible holiday I will lead my DarkHorsemen to battle against our rivals. The prize we all be-seek is the silver Trios Cup!
*Fitch takes a deep draught from her gem encrusted chalice.*
Cathy: The Cup blesses its owners with Wrestling Championship Federation title shots! A World Title shot for the soul who wins it, and Tag Team Title shots for the goobers standing on the apron in the winner’s corner during the match. It has been that way for a wrestler’s equivalent of several lifetimes: Two Thousand Twelve!!!
*The woman’s voice gets low and ominous when she gives the date.*
Cathy: I and my fellow Dark Equestrians have undergone a Dark Quest to win that cup, and it has transformed us. We are more than wrestlers now we are forces of the worst of the world! We are the Three Dark Horsemen and One Darkhorsewoman of the Apocalypse!!!! Like in the “X-Man” movie AND the Bible!!! I didn’t just paint my face because of Mexican Halloween, but because I have become Death, Destroyer of Jobbers! Snake Venom has become Pestilence! because snakes are poisonous and that’s kind of like pestilence which means “a deadly or virulent epidemic disease.” Bad News Benson is Famine! because he was starving for a win before he joined up with my crew and Ultimate Destroyer is War! because look at him what else would he be?!?
*Cathy leans forward and hisses to the camera.*
Cathy: Does the rest of WCF realized how absolutely anally raped it is about to get? The Three DarkHorsemen and One DarkHorseWoman of the Apocalypse bring carnage and chaos wherever their steeds go gallop! Only the strong can survive against the Three DarkHorsemen and no one can beat the DarkHorseWoman because contrary to what Zombie McMorris and his doofus son would have you believe Death is undefeated! Just like me so it’s fits the gimmick. Connect the dots, people! This is match relevant!
*Another long sip from her Unholy Grail (TM 2016 Cathy Fitch LTD) and she sways to her feet.*
Cathy: Now is the time to shoot on the opposition. White Pride and Unstable Pimpelments, l will line you up Kodachrome and Fitchslap your faces off! Starting with Tiffany White. You’re a loser, Tiff. You lost your big feud against the trailer-park baby killer Chance Von Crank, lose to him AGAIN when you get to face him in the Trio Tournament, and then, after being almost handed the opportunity to rehabilitate your sad, sorry reputation by becoming WCF Television Champion, you roll over like Rover and give it to that Sith Lord wannabe Johnny Rabid. That why you were desperate enough to hook up with Team Dude Bro, honey? You swallow your “Gurl Pride” in hopes of getting rid of that choke artist stank? Well, it’s not going to work, because Sunday you and your faction of suburban pantywaists are losing.
*Deathface Cathy taps her nose, which is painted to look like it isn’t there but it really is.*
Cathy: Speaking of which, let’s talk about them: Ethan King and Eddie Felt. The hot new prospects who came in full of viss and pinnegar and immediately challenged the #BeachKrew stable and promptly got jobbed the fuck out by two of their Eliza Doolittles. Stellar work, gents. Way to dominate. Yeah, Ethan managed to take a break from his Degrassi High: the College Years reenactment of a personal life to win the US Title, but who cares? He’s going to lose it quick. Ethan King is a weak little Beta Boy who will fold under the pressure that comes with defending the belt that’s supposed to be the stepping stone to the World title even though it never seems to work out that way except when ICE did it. And Eddie Felt? Just like his last name, he’s S-O-F-T. A weak little nobody that even Coast to Coast wouldn’t waste air time on. Pro-Tip, Fox Jobber; conspiracy theory gimmicks are for hacks. Just ask Daniel Booker.
*Cathy’s eyes dart back in forth from within her heavy shadowed orbital cavities. She takes a quick sip from her goblet, and prudently moves on.*
Cathy: Now let’s talk about OPP, aka Old Played-out Prodigals as in the Prodigal Sons no one wanted back: Polar Phantasm, Steve Orbit, and Jeff Purse. Aka The Unstable Pimpelments, which also works because no one wants zits either. You squares thought you could form your little Cryonix tribute band and get yourself to the Trios Cup finals by showing us how chummy you are? That you’d sit around and smoke rope and gather wool and the wins would just come to you? Nostalgia might sell in the Cracker Barrel Gift Shop, mi amigos, but not here in 2016 WCF! Here you got to do work! Like me! Like my fellow DarkHorsePersons who Sunday are going to lay waste to every last one of you. Like this.
*Cathy picks up a giant sickle like the Grim Reaper uses and dashes over to where there are six piñatas that look likes the heads of all of her opponents at this Sunday’s Slam and slashes them open so that candy spills out but it’s gross candy like Circus Peanuts and Jolly Ranchers because that fits the mood better and then her promo ends.*
