Post by Whitey Ford on May 25, 2011 18:36:01 GMT -4
::The sound of a rocket soaring over the crowd is heard, but none is seen. Still, an explosion of pyrotechnics shakes the stage, and "Whitey" by Everlast starts to play over the PA. Every fan in the arena is on their feet, ready to see one of the fan favorites of the AWA, and even long before that. A few moments pass, but sure enough, Whitey Ford saunters onto the stage, wearing pair of blue jeans and a tight black shirt. With a jerk of his head, Ford clears his face of his long blonde hair, and smiles out at the crowd, if not a bit reluncantly. The Freak is right behind him, riding a pink tricycle and sporting aviators, which only make him look more ridiculous (if thats at all possible). Whitey looks down at his cohort, and for a fleeting moment, a look of disgust passes over his face. Its washed away quickly enough that most people don't even notice it, the charismatic grin covering up any sign of contempt.::
Jesse Ventura: Wow. Yet again, another BIG RETURN...yawn...
::Ford makes his way down the ramp, slapping hands with the outstretched arms of many fans as he passes. He rolls under the bottom rope and catches a microphone tossed to him by a ring attendant. Freak rides his tricycle into the side of the ring, crashing to the floor comedically and getting a cheap laugh from the fans at ringside. He clamors into the ring to stand besides Ford, who waits a few moments after his music cuts to let the cheers subside.::
Whitey Ford: Well...here I am again, back in the AWA!
::The fans give him a cheer for the mention of the much loved federation.::
Whitey Ford: Although, it IS bittersweet to be here. I left without a trace last time, and for that I apologize, to both the competitors in the back and the fans here in attendance and watching around the world. I have no excuse...except that I had to battle more harrowing demons in my life than the goons here.
::Ford looks like he's going to continue, the Freak cuts him off.::
The Freak: He couldn't put the bottle down!
::Even though the fans laugh, as Fords alcoholism has been put in the light as carefree and lighthearted for years, Whitey gives Freak a look thats thick with venom. He continues on, shaking off the barb.::
Whitey Ford: So, unfortunately, my war against the corrupt and evil in this wrestling orginazation was cut short...not due to alcoholism, let me assure you all. Even so, I never got my chance to beat Michael James Windsor...and I never got my chance to shut that annoying little spitfuck James Lucas up!
::Another cheer from the crowd, and Ford nods approvingly...although its a bit over exaggerated, coming off a bit sarcastic.::
Whitey Ford: YEAH, yeah...boo them. Fuckers. Anyways...I always wanted to break Lucas' winning streak and show him that he is NOT in the same league as me...hell, he's not even in the same league as the people I pay to wash my car.
::A smaller cheer from the crowd...since when has Whitey ever made mention of being wealthy enough to have servants?::
Whitey Ford: And now, here we are, at the Rebirth of AWA...and I have my chance to finally shut that assholes mouth! I'm not going to bore you all with talking, since here's how I look at it; I make promises, try to deliver them for you good folk...and I fall short more often than not. But this time, I will let my actions do the talking. James Lucas...you are a dead man.
::A vicious shade has taken Ford's eyes and tone for the last few sentences, a bit confusing to some in the arena but they cheer anyway. Abrubtly, Ford drops the microphone, shouldering past Freak and heading back up the entrance ramp without so much as another word. Freak follows in suit, looking concernd and confused.::
***Commercial Break***
Jesse Ventura: Wow. Yet again, another BIG RETURN...yawn...
::Ford makes his way down the ramp, slapping hands with the outstretched arms of many fans as he passes. He rolls under the bottom rope and catches a microphone tossed to him by a ring attendant. Freak rides his tricycle into the side of the ring, crashing to the floor comedically and getting a cheap laugh from the fans at ringside. He clamors into the ring to stand besides Ford, who waits a few moments after his music cuts to let the cheers subside.::
Whitey Ford: Well...here I am again, back in the AWA!
::The fans give him a cheer for the mention of the much loved federation.::
Whitey Ford: Although, it IS bittersweet to be here. I left without a trace last time, and for that I apologize, to both the competitors in the back and the fans here in attendance and watching around the world. I have no excuse...except that I had to battle more harrowing demons in my life than the goons here.
::Ford looks like he's going to continue, the Freak cuts him off.::
The Freak: He couldn't put the bottle down!
::Even though the fans laugh, as Fords alcoholism has been put in the light as carefree and lighthearted for years, Whitey gives Freak a look thats thick with venom. He continues on, shaking off the barb.::
Whitey Ford: So, unfortunately, my war against the corrupt and evil in this wrestling orginazation was cut short...not due to alcoholism, let me assure you all. Even so, I never got my chance to beat Michael James Windsor...and I never got my chance to shut that annoying little spitfuck James Lucas up!
::Another cheer from the crowd, and Ford nods approvingly...although its a bit over exaggerated, coming off a bit sarcastic.::
Whitey Ford: YEAH, yeah...boo them. Fuckers. Anyways...I always wanted to break Lucas' winning streak and show him that he is NOT in the same league as me...hell, he's not even in the same league as the people I pay to wash my car.
::A smaller cheer from the crowd...since when has Whitey ever made mention of being wealthy enough to have servants?::
Whitey Ford: And now, here we are, at the Rebirth of AWA...and I have my chance to finally shut that assholes mouth! I'm not going to bore you all with talking, since here's how I look at it; I make promises, try to deliver them for you good folk...and I fall short more often than not. But this time, I will let my actions do the talking. James Lucas...you are a dead man.
::A vicious shade has taken Ford's eyes and tone for the last few sentences, a bit confusing to some in the arena but they cheer anyway. Abrubtly, Ford drops the microphone, shouldering past Freak and heading back up the entrance ramp without so much as another word. Freak follows in suit, looking concernd and confused.::
***Commercial Break***