Post by Moxie Roxie on Jul 31, 2016 5:57:37 GMT
The Glitterati welcomes you. Please stare deeply into the all-seeing, sparkling eye and know well and truly that it wouldn't kill you to maybe get a haircut. Tomorrow try putting some thought into what you wear, and don't just throw on the first ill-fighting shirt you see after you roll out of bed. Be the change you wish to see in the world.
The eye within the sparkling triangle offers you a reassuring wink, before fading in on a podium. To each side are banners bearing the same eye. From off camera, a throat is cleared.
: Ahem.
On camera steps the Glambassador of the Glitterati, the High Priestess of Punk, the Ruler of the Moxiverse: Moxie Roxie. Looking professional and poised in a black suit, she steps up to the podium, offering a welcoming, though unconvincing smile. The smile is rendered even less convincing by the malicious eye-narrowing she follows up with.
Moxie Roxie: Hi, Guerreros of Lucha. Although, I feel your choice of the masculine, "Guerreros" presents an unnecessary barrier to female competitors who might otherwise be willing to compete in your company. I, Moxie Roxie, of course am much too confident in both my in-ring abilities and internal character to be dissuaded by what I'm sure was an honest mistake. And I trust that by the time myself, Elias T. Azul, and Rockstar capture your Trios Titles, that you will have changed the name to something more gender-neutral. If you'd like to speak with me in private, I'll happily offer suggestions.
Because happiness is what brings me, what brings US here. Having conquered the Outsider Wrestling Federation and crushed its own paltry excuses for alliances under our sparkly boot heel, we one top of the world. Just giddy with success, titles and generally being the greatest wrestling stable ever formed. But we're also just so effing BORED. I mean it, we beat everybody. The Violent Society, The Inner Circle. There's another group, The Hostile Takeover that's now blossoming before our very eyes. But do we rip out this weed as it sprouts? No, no, no. We nurture it. We cultivate it. That way, the process of viscerally ripping it out by the root is so much more enjoyable. Oh, but that's OWF talk. Let's talk about you.
You have Trios Titles, GoL! Good for you. While I, Moxie Roxie, am a goddess-level martial artist and have actually created my own fighting style, I was trained first and foremost by the legendary luchador Don Flamingo. I'm as handy with a hurricanrana as I am with a muay thai kick. Truly, I offer the best of both worlds and I'm absolutely thrilled to bring both those worlds to you. I'm even MORE thrilled to slam those two worlds into each other, into a planetary cataclysm that can only obliterate the hopes and dreams of our opponents in the Mexican Asylum Match? You know when someone suffers a personal tragedy and they feel as if their world has ended. Well, guys. Imagine two worlds ending, all at once. Imagine the mind-shattering despair that would involve. That's what you in for if you think, even for one Tijuana millisecond, that you can defeat the Glitterati. I just don't want you to feel bad. People with unrealistic goals make me nauseous. Maybe you should all go back to junior college.
I just look at all of you, and I see nothing worth being excited for. There's no makeover montage in your future. You're not going to ascend from your bottom rung of the social ladder. You're all ugly ducklings and it's time for you to fly back north. The swans want their gold.
The fact that one of you is even called The Triad says it all. Triad means three, you lazy goon. Where's your marketing department? Where's the pizzazz? The oomph. You might as well be called the Unpolished Turds, and enter the arena to a chorus of fart noises. I typically shun flatulence humor, but that's how uninspired you left me. And I'm an artist who finds inspiration effing everywhere. I've written countless songs, blogs, and part of a screenplay on the number three. But you three are just très coma-inducing.
House of Serena, congratulations on your female empowerment and some truly bold costuming choices. Were this Comic Con, you'd be a sensation. I would never accuse you of being fake geek girls, and I'm sure like me, you're well aware of the horrific dangers of male entitlement in our society. In another world, we might be besties. In GoL, I'm afraid I'm going to have to Sparking Priestess your effing heads off. Great costumes, though. I hope they don't clash with your hospital gowns.
And Everyday Heroes? Yuh-awn. No such thing. The very Moxiverse scoffs at the idea. Who needs Everyday Heroes when my Moxiples have a Glambassador? Moxie Roxie has long since transcended heroism, and I was gracious enough to bring Elias T. Azul and Rockstar along for the ride. If greatness were radiation, I would've turned them to great, glittering skeletons a long time ago. They'd be sick with greatness. And you're all about to die of greatness poisoning, courtesy of the Glitterati. There is no cure. You were doomed from the start.
Seriously, though. Don't get discouraged, guys. I mean, we beat EVERYBODY.
Glitter is coming.
Moxie offers a final smile, as the screen fades back to the all-seeing sparkling eye. Do not despair. The eye saw your defeat before you even existed.
The eye within the sparkling triangle offers you a reassuring wink, before fading in on a podium. To each side are banners bearing the same eye. From off camera, a throat is cleared.
: Ahem.
On camera steps the Glambassador of the Glitterati, the High Priestess of Punk, the Ruler of the Moxiverse: Moxie Roxie. Looking professional and poised in a black suit, she steps up to the podium, offering a welcoming, though unconvincing smile. The smile is rendered even less convincing by the malicious eye-narrowing she follows up with.
Moxie Roxie: Hi, Guerreros of Lucha. Although, I feel your choice of the masculine, "Guerreros" presents an unnecessary barrier to female competitors who might otherwise be willing to compete in your company. I, Moxie Roxie, of course am much too confident in both my in-ring abilities and internal character to be dissuaded by what I'm sure was an honest mistake. And I trust that by the time myself, Elias T. Azul, and Rockstar capture your Trios Titles, that you will have changed the name to something more gender-neutral. If you'd like to speak with me in private, I'll happily offer suggestions.
Because happiness is what brings me, what brings US here. Having conquered the Outsider Wrestling Federation and crushed its own paltry excuses for alliances under our sparkly boot heel, we one top of the world. Just giddy with success, titles and generally being the greatest wrestling stable ever formed. But we're also just so effing BORED. I mean it, we beat everybody. The Violent Society, The Inner Circle. There's another group, The Hostile Takeover that's now blossoming before our very eyes. But do we rip out this weed as it sprouts? No, no, no. We nurture it. We cultivate it. That way, the process of viscerally ripping it out by the root is so much more enjoyable. Oh, but that's OWF talk. Let's talk about you.
You have Trios Titles, GoL! Good for you. While I, Moxie Roxie, am a goddess-level martial artist and have actually created my own fighting style, I was trained first and foremost by the legendary luchador Don Flamingo. I'm as handy with a hurricanrana as I am with a muay thai kick. Truly, I offer the best of both worlds and I'm absolutely thrilled to bring both those worlds to you. I'm even MORE thrilled to slam those two worlds into each other, into a planetary cataclysm that can only obliterate the hopes and dreams of our opponents in the Mexican Asylum Match? You know when someone suffers a personal tragedy and they feel as if their world has ended. Well, guys. Imagine two worlds ending, all at once. Imagine the mind-shattering despair that would involve. That's what you in for if you think, even for one Tijuana millisecond, that you can defeat the Glitterati. I just don't want you to feel bad. People with unrealistic goals make me nauseous. Maybe you should all go back to junior college.
I just look at all of you, and I see nothing worth being excited for. There's no makeover montage in your future. You're not going to ascend from your bottom rung of the social ladder. You're all ugly ducklings and it's time for you to fly back north. The swans want their gold.
The fact that one of you is even called The Triad says it all. Triad means three, you lazy goon. Where's your marketing department? Where's the pizzazz? The oomph. You might as well be called the Unpolished Turds, and enter the arena to a chorus of fart noises. I typically shun flatulence humor, but that's how uninspired you left me. And I'm an artist who finds inspiration effing everywhere. I've written countless songs, blogs, and part of a screenplay on the number three. But you three are just très coma-inducing.
House of Serena, congratulations on your female empowerment and some truly bold costuming choices. Were this Comic Con, you'd be a sensation. I would never accuse you of being fake geek girls, and I'm sure like me, you're well aware of the horrific dangers of male entitlement in our society. In another world, we might be besties. In GoL, I'm afraid I'm going to have to Sparking Priestess your effing heads off. Great costumes, though. I hope they don't clash with your hospital gowns.
And Everyday Heroes? Yuh-awn. No such thing. The very Moxiverse scoffs at the idea. Who needs Everyday Heroes when my Moxiples have a Glambassador? Moxie Roxie has long since transcended heroism, and I was gracious enough to bring Elias T. Azul and Rockstar along for the ride. If greatness were radiation, I would've turned them to great, glittering skeletons a long time ago. They'd be sick with greatness. And you're all about to die of greatness poisoning, courtesy of the Glitterati. There is no cure. You were doomed from the start.
Seriously, though. Don't get discouraged, guys. I mean, we beat EVERYBODY.
Glitter is coming.
Moxie offers a final smile, as the screen fades back to the all-seeing sparkling eye. Do not despair. The eye saw your defeat before you even existed.