We cut to the backstage area where Serena Reyes is standing by with none other than “Metro” Vito Valentino. To say he is conspicuous by his new attire would be a gross understatement; white boots, hot pink wrestling tights with a black, checkered stripe going down the sides, a large dark blue jacket with the word “METRO” going down the back in a white cursive font.
He’s dressed to impress.
He’s in the moment.
He’s jumping in place, loosening up for the biggest match of his Classic Wrestling career thus far.
It’s SLAM-A-THON, baby.
Serena Reyes: Ladies and gentlemen, we are here with Vito Valentino, who is mere moments away from one of the biggest matches in Classic Wrestling’s brief but storied history: the Six-Man Over The Top Rope Battle Royal!
Pausing, she switches her attention from the camera and faces Vito.
Serena Reyes: Vito, the match you’re in has garnered a LOT of hype and publicity over the last several weeks. Action figures are flying off the shelves, the Dow has seen a bullish upwards tick, and for whatever reason Moms everywhere have stocked up on toilet paper. With the level of excitement in the air, what are your final thoughts before competing for the brand new Premier American Chanpionship?
Vito stops jumping in place and turns around to face the camera. Wearing a new, customized pair of Aviators with blue and pink sparkling rims with the letters “C” and “W” on each lens, he leans in and speaks.
METRO: Tonight is the night of all nights! The Classic Arena is the site of all sites! And SLAM-A-THON? Well it’s the show of all shows, sister! WE… are on the cusp of greatness.
Metro pauses and respectfully takes the microphone from Reyes.
METRO: Please. Allow me, Serena.
His eyes narrow, nostrils flare, and the veins in his neck pulsate with pure adrenaline.
METRO: SHUJIN. You want respect, you mouth-breathing malcontent? Then you gon’ EARN it, knucklehead. ‘Cause so far? All anyone’s heard you do through all your fancy words and mouth turds is complain, complain, COMPLAIN. Waaaaaaaah there ain’t a soul in the C-Dubya who respects this mountain of a man that just towers over us, casting his shadow on everything under the lights of SLAM-A-THON! Waaaaaaaaaah! MARONE!
Vito chuckles before continuing. Somewhere in the Antarctic, the echoes of Shujin’s cries can still be heard.
METRO: If you can lift your head outta your bowl of gravy-covered cliches for a sec, I’m here to tell you… sweat and piss aren’t the only things every man in that ring are gonna beat outta you once you step inside it!. And when we’re all satisfied doin’ THAT, baby? We’re gonna dump you outta that ring onto your sorry keister and watch Less-Than-Honest-Abe over continue to huff the noxious gas and hot air that emits from that stupid, vapid mouth of ole Mt. Yama!
Vito slaps his hands together.
METRO: And when we’re all done working together to remove who is no doubt the biggest threat in this match? We’re gonna have the time of our lives wrestlin’ each other over those top ropes. FOR THE PREMIER… AMERICAN… CHAMPIONSHIP. Let me say that again. For the PREMIER… AMERICAN… CHAMPIONSHIP. Y’know, in case some of you might’ve lost focus on that.
Vito gets up close and personal with the camera, momentarily pointing to the goosebumps on his arm.
METRO: Rest of us? Anybody’s game, honestly.. Carlos and I might team up on Randall just to get that dork outta there. Or heck, we just might throw our friendship aside and try to eliminate one another. Freddy and Jackie? I like the idea of facin’ off with each of them, too. They seem like bad motha-
Vito stops himself from committing a huge no-no live on Pay-Per-View. Thinking of all those precious kids who sent their artwork over to MECCA for him to see, he continues.
METRO: …. uh, bad mamma-jammas.. Yeah. Let’s go with that! Point is? When the dust settles and SLAM-A-THON is in the rearview? There ain’t a mountain nor man that can stop me from becoming the… PREMIER… AMERICAN… CHAMPION. If you got the chips? I suggest you BET on that, baby.
He holds out his arm.
His fingers begin to slip from around the black microphone handle.
METRO: … to the METROpolis.
The microphone finally slips out of his hand, falling to the cement floor. Just as he drops the mic, we move forward with the Pay-Per-View by cutting back to the commentary team.