06.13.06 Avarice - Tetley Realities

I ought to be ashamed of myself, really.

Really.

A man of my age, of my distinction, drinking so heavily...

Bloody near 4am...here I am...

Goddamn bottle...

I pull at the cork and it finally gives way...with slightly shaky hands I pour a little into my Royal Doulton tea cup.

I might be getting drunk but I will bloody well do it with class...

This damn robe is so bulky...who put that foot stool there? My damn foot...need to put my cup down, NO I need to sit down.

I ease into my arm chair and dear GOD there goes the ashtray...

Bloody ridiculous piece of...OH mighty Jesus my back...

Way to wake up the whole bloody house hold at what time is it? 1 am? Whatever it is...where's my tea.

I sip nimbly at it...I really shouldn't be drinking so much at my age, but then again, what the hell else do I have to lose?

I know I'm near the end of my days. I have only one thing in life left to accomplish. Then I can sleep. Sweetly sleep knowing I have done what is right. I have always done what is right. And that shall never change.

And I fear he will never change.

I turn my head towards the set and fumble with the remote control. These bloody things are impossible to comprehend.

NO I don't want it in French...there we go, volume, and this wee arrow pointing "up" should do it. There.

Conarri: Weapons at play again it could seal Avarice's fate.

Styles: That cane helped him defeat Freddy Phoenix. Avarice's name may be added to that list.

Stanton: Both men have taken all they have…but I still fear the worst is yet to come.

Conarri: Indeed Les, until one of them is bleeding, this match goes on.

"Come on lad, smash it in the bastard's skull!" I shift forward in my arm chair.

Conarri: Curtis' cane EXPLODES into shatters as it smacked those steel steps!

[The fans OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO collectively with gasps.]

Styles: He almost OBLITERATED his skull!

[Avarice slipped out of the path of the cane with a split second to spare. The Englishman reaches down and picks up one of the splinters of broken cane and swings at Curtis' stomach, which he dodges. Curtis lays a large boot to the head of Avarice and spins him around.]

Conarri: CURTIS now grabbing Avarice up!

"COME ON!" Bloody hell I need to be quiet...I pull my handkerchief over my mouth.

[The fans get to their feet as Curtis backdrop suplexes Avarice into the steel ring steps; as he does Avarice takes the broken piece of cane in his hand and attempts to drive it into Curtis' head.]

"NO!"

Conarri: IT CONNECTS!! Avarice's head just HIT the edge of the steps!!

DING DING DING!

Conarri: THAT'S IT! It's OVER!

Styles: FIRST BLOOD!!

No...dear God no.

"Simkins, are you okay?"

Her Ladyship, robe clad herself, entered...old fool! I woke her!

She turns to the screen and sees what I'm watching.

"I'm sorry I shall..."

"No. Leave it."

She walks over, hand gently covering her mouth.

Stanton: I can't believe it…Avarice was able to jam that shard DEEP into Curtis' skull - he's bleeding heavily into his eyes!

Conarri: But look at Avarice's head, it too is split open from the impact of that backdrop suplex into the steel steps - but it's too late for Curtis! WE HAVE A NEW CHAMPION!

[Strembatel hurries outside to grab the OLW Title as the two men lay stiff on the outside, and as Tracie Ferraro scurries into the ring, microphone in hand. Both managers also run over and tend to their respective men.]

Ferraro: Ladies and gentlemen: FIRST BLOOD HAS BEEN STRUCK. The winner of this contest…and the NEW, UNDISPUTED OLD LINE WRESTLING CHAMPION…the "DESTROYER OF WORLDS," AVARICE!

I switch off the set and apologize profusely.

"I...I apologize my Lady for my state and for my...my...incohesiveness and for awaking you, and for..."

"It's..."

She shakes her head and leaves the room, closing my door.

You old stupid bastard. Look at what you've done.

I can only sit and repent, and think now what the world, and I, have to contend with.

He's done it. He's finally done it. Seven years patient toil, and he reached that summit he was so longing to reach.

And he only had to sell his soul to do it.

Now the venom he shall spew will be...even more venomous. And the she-devil's claws and

avarice

will grow even further.

Until that day that is approaching.

At least for now I have my "tea" to comfort me.

I resort to picking up my tea cup again and settling back into the chair, absorbing what just transpired in the room and on the telly.

"Ah. By Jove."

'Tis a fine brew.