~Crème De La Crème~ Feat. Adrian Kytes

And now they were getting to it, the meat of the matter. The reason why Gwen had gone all out researching...why Gwen had paid someone to go all out researching... why SOMEONE had been paid to do research about Adrian. A "You're not so different you and I" speech and what amounted to a job offer "Gwendolyn Dupont Bettencourt," Adrian began, no doubt butchering the pronunciation "I've heard your proposal, I acknowledge it," she continued as her straight face collapsed into a smile "...and here's why it's bullshit."

"Gwenny-cakes, you don't do allies. At least, not the way most people have them. No matter what you tell Akiha at night, no matter how many bags with currency signs you threw at Styx, the moment they start looking like they're gonna be more trouble than their worth you'll sell 'em up river so fast they'll hit a waterfall before they even knew what hit them. What you have are either people you suck up to, trying to keep Daddy's money rolling in, or servants who you care as much about as what you had for breakfast this morning. So you can take that proposal, and shove it up your ass!" Adrian ranted, this wasn't the first time she'd been publicly offered a partnership like this, and just like back then she had 0 intention of even considering it and damn the consequences.

Once it became exceedingly apparent Adrian was going to be making the wrong decision this night by means of her uncouth expletive referring to cattle excretion...Gwendolyn nonchalantly retracted her silken gloved hand and calmly netted her fingers together so that she may prop her chin atop them. Her dignified demeanor remaining undaunted as the Philadelphian regaled Gwendolyn with the exact reasoning behind her decision, her prim and proper smile remaining undaunted as Adrian spoke words that indeed had kernels of truth to them~...until there was the mere mention of her dear Daddums. Her flowery disposition glowering to an almost monotonic expressionless before she managed to save face and compose herself by taking a sip from her tea cup. Taking a deep breath with tea-cup still in hand before elegantly enunciating her retort.

"...Hmm...the penny drops. As tragic as it is that my heartfelt attempt at an amicable alliance between like minds has fallen woefully short, I do believe I understand you now more than ever, Madam Kytes." Gwendolyn ominously imparted before tenderly placing her tea cup back down, the heiress than primly arising once more to gracefully waltz around the table. "And I had gone to such great lengths to not have this unfold as it normally does~...*sigh*...ah well. One can never say I did not attempt to be the peacemaker this time around. Since tonight's festivities are about to be concluded, I must confess...that I have one final video to show you, dear Adrian. Consider it a...suitable representation of what I truly think of you as a fellow competitor~..." Gwendolyn smirked maliciously down at the seated Adrian before extravagantly wafting her hand towards the Titan-tron.

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The monolithic screen would start airing a pre-recorded video of two black-suited gentlemen standing beside eachother, an eagle-eyed observer noticing that they were two of Gwendolyn's bodyguards. In fact, it was the very two hired muscle that had chucked Adrian out of the locker room the last time she and Gwendolyn reconnected. The camera than panning out to reveal a garbage truck behind them....and Adrian's electric Vespa scooter between them. All the elements were in play, and before anyone could think otherwise, the two gentlemen in dark sunglasses would heave Adrian's prized possession into the back of the truck...before the mechanized machinery would begin compacting down on the scooter. Brutally crunching it down and utterly destroying the now flattened scooter...to which the video would abruptly cut the feed.

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".....you certainly wouldn't have needed such a primitive vehicle had you allied yourself with me. But, since you decided otherwise.....well, I do hear public transportation is most accommodating these days~....."

And now everything had come into place. Gwendolyn had to know that there was less chance of Adrian accepting any deal she had offered than a character played by Sean Bean surviving a first series, and Adrian had reported her scooter as lost a few days ago even if it was a shitty little Vespa that she could have easily replaced, the heiress probably had it destroyed a while back and wanted prime time to show that she could do anything she liked without consequence. But Adrian knew something that Gwendolyn didn't, or hopefully didn't in any case. Perhaps the blonde was more accurate with here assertions than she would have liked "Well it's funny you mention public transport Gwenny-cakes, because I'm not the only one who should start looking for a new ride. Boys!" She called to the backstage crew "Roll the footage!"

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Once again the screen flickered to pre-recorded footage, albeit of poorer quality. Not that the picture needed to be sharp for anyone to get the point, the view of the front of Gwendolyn's limo was clear enough even as it was lifted off the ground, onto its side before finally being rolled onto it's own roof. The weight of the long vehicle crushing the glass in the windows as it slowly began to flatten itself.

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"To be fair, it's not a big deal for you losing a limo. I mean you've got more haven't you? Well..."

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As the footage continued the view of the camera panned to an adjacent limousine, thoroughly vandalised. The paint had been scratched, windows had been smashed, wing mirrors removed and to top it all off: a humorous painting of a butt above a 5 minute comic-artist's depiction of Gwendolyn all lovingly made with spray paint.

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"...Had, anyway."

"Commandeering" Adrian's pitiable excuse for a mode of transportation was fairly rudimentary. Gwendolyn's stoic associates dressed in black suits and a pair of bolt cutters ended up being all she needed to ensure that her nostalgic waltz down memory lane had it's apropos destination. A fitting conclusion that perfectly summarizes where she believes Adrian's wrestling career belongs~...and one that serves to guarantee the heiress that her refined soirée would end with her having the definitive last laugh. Although she must admit enjoying a mirthful chuckle or two when first spying Adrian's modest conveyance parked beside obscenely garish Harley-Davidson motorcycles that were twice it's size. Nevertheless, Gwendolyn was all but prepared to bid her Philadelphian adversary adieu and "safe driving", when Adrian saw fit to have Gwendolyn direct her attention to the Titan-tron herself...

Gwendolyn turned to face the monolithic screen with perplexed befuddlement and a hiked up eyebrow, not having one earthly clue as to wha-...


*BOOM*


The color in Gwendolyn's complexion dissipated as the unmitigated horror unfolded, the heiress than rushing forward to securely fasten both of her gloved hands onto the top rope as if it was a fulcrum. Something tangible and with physical presence to assure her that this wasn't all just some ghastly nightmare. Her mouth hanging voicelessly agape in what was an infinitesimally rare occasion of the spoiled blueblood being rendered utterly speechless, though the sounds of cacophonous adulation and decibel raising ovation from the approving audience overwhelmed the stunned silence she was exuding. Once the grainy footage had signaled the real ending to the night's film's...Gwendolyn turned back around to face the cosplaying prankster with not one iota of courteous levity being sensed from her malicious aura.

"Oh...I bet you think that was delightfully clever, don't you~...Isn't she just the absolute embodiment of rambunctious mischief and rebellious nonconformity, Ladies and Gentleman~..." Gwendolyn directing that last question towards the hyped up crowd still lavishing Adrian with cheers, the unhinged heiress taking a leisurely stroll towards Adrian with every further spoken statement. "Well, since you've so loquaciously voiced your feeble-minded opinion about myself, allow me to express my own candid dissection, hmm?...You are the pathetic and perennial loser of this federation, Adrian...a forgotten and easily disregarded footnote in the annals of this company's history who is never associated with the likes of Taylor Parker and Angel because you were the merely the hopeless stepping stone that they stomped on to make themselves legends and raise themselves into the upper echelon. Decry me aaaaaall you want Adrian, but I have accomplished more than you in half the time you have been here...and unlike you, I don't need to make up imitation title belts in order to have them adorn my waist. You, my dear...are a bygone relic of an ancient era who has long since reached her peak and accomplished all that she ever will...OH...and you're also banned from my promo segment. Expect a bill for the damages to my limos in the mail.....TA~....." Gwen smugly preened with a condescending smirk and having by now stepped right in front of Adrian to speak directly into her face, the affluent heiress than taking a step back and pointing at the ramp to the booing disdain of the crowd.

It was going to be costly, Adrian didn't know how much a limousine would cost to replace or repair, let alone two of them, but the look off utter despair on Gwendolyn's face would be worth every Yen, Cent or...whatever the smallest denomination in France was. It was more satisfying than telling the heiress to eat a thousand dicks, at least, it was before Gwen started spitting fire at her in retaliation. "I made this company," Adrian growled out, standing up and getting right in the blonde's face "Without me, Cecilia Northman, long reigning Hardcore and World Champion, she would have been shaved bald and run out of Japan in her first year if I wasn't there. I made the Hardcore Title mean something more than swinging steel at other people's heads. I MADE the World title something worth a main event. That wasn't Akashi, that wasn't Gatt, that wasn't even Parker! That, was, me!" The former cosplayer ranted.

"I've done so much more than you Gwendolyn. Even if it wasn't all on stage, I've worked my way to being a whole god damn book worth of history, things that can't be duplicated things that strike the very bedrock of women's wrestling. Arn Anderson may not have won anything more than the tag titles, but anyone who looked at him knew him as a legend. Not the one in the spotlight 24/7 but someone who's wrestling lived on without ten pounds of gold. That's where I'm at right now, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. You? The next time some young blonde comes along with too much money and too little in the way of ethics, you'll be replaced. Forgotten. Discarded as an afterthought. A random Trivial Pursuit answer in a really specific expansion. The Bar quiz answer that makes everyone look at you and go 'how the hell do you know that?' That's you. So goodbye Gwennie-cakes, I hope you take your upcoming obsolescence with the lack of grace we've all come to expect." She announced, and with a flick of her hair and a look of disdain, Adrian Kytes was heading out, stepping through the ropes and standing tall on the apron.

"But before all that," she began again, raising the microphone to applause as she stepped back through the ropes, this time with a calmer expression on her face as she faced off against Gwendolyn "Can I get some of that cake to g-" Was all she said before she lunged her microphone holding hand at Gwendolyn, not even caring about the ear rape of feedback everyone in the arena was going to get.

Whatever thinly veiled cordiality there had been between the contentious pairing had by now essentially dissolved away into nothingness. The blasphemous desecration of her modest conveyance, which happened to be her dear Dadum's high-school graduation present to her alongside her own private island in the Bahamas to vacation to, was the proverbial final straw for this Philadelphian gutter-trash whom Gwendolyn had benevolently dedicated this entire night to. The posh heiress, in all of her ceaseless generosity, even going so far as to offer this unsophisticated troglodyte an opportunity of a lifetime by joining her monolithic organization...and all simply out of abject pity for this obsolete, lowbrow and quite frankly pathetic antiquity of a time long since passed. While Gwendolyn was indeed being earnest when mentioning their blaring similarities from earlier in the promo, she neglected to mention how she found herself the vastly superior version to the cosplaying veteran currently rebutting with her own vitriolic tirade inches from Gwen's face.

The underlying contention between the younger and older generation now coming to the forefront as Adrian and Gwendolyn expressed their unvarnished...and decidedly spiteful, opinion of one another. Gwendolyn withstanding her own hostile undressing with as much stalwart and unflinching poise as Adrian. Though for her part she would simply be satisfied with the loudmouthed cos-player sparing her of being in this uncouth peasant's presence another painstaking second longer...an outcome that was seemingly coming true as Adrian saw fit to begin waltzing towards the edge of the ring. Seemingly taking the disappointed crowd's hopes for a brawling clash between the bitter duo with her, the snooty blueblood watched Adrian's departure with an upturned nose...that is until she turned around to ask Gwen for-

*THWACK!!!*

Gwendolyn was sent tumbling backwards before collapsing to the floor, knocking over one of the tea table's chairs after getting plastered with Adrian's microphone!!! Hundreds cheering wildly in approval of Adrian's much more violent rebuttal in spite of the screeching feedback reverberating from the speakers. The heiress herself gnashing her teeth and massaging the point of impact while attempting to unsteadily begin ascending back to a seated position, glaring through one eye at the impudent cos-player who has taken this bitter quarrel between the both of them to it's next inevitable step...

(oh shit it's almost december)

While most people might have settled for a pie in Gwendolyn's face or some tea down her top to compensate for five minutes of their life that they would never get back, Adrian was taking the more aggressively direct approach. The 'Traditional' approach to wrestling talk shows. Gwen might have been glaring up at the former cosplayer but Adrian wasn't one-and-done with the mic shot, opting instead to lunge down at the blonde, diving with her forearm raised to smack the heiress back down to the carpet covered canvas.

The spiking microphone pummel heard around the stadium left the haughty hostess for the evening's ceremonies dazed with a reverberating headache. One that was not aided in anyway by Adrian skipping to, what she correctly predicted, was the inevitable conclusion of all This Is Your Life segments hosted by the person's enemy...

Gwendolyn scrunching her face from the brutish clubbing to her refined visage, pedaling her booted legs against the carpeted canvas from the drubbing forearm strikes until several extended arms reached inside the ring to yank the noblewoman out from under Adrian. Her tracksuited cronies having promptly scurried out from backstage after seeing the decidedly southward direction of the segment and set about pulling their employer to safety. Gwen's disheveled ringlets frazzled and out of place as she backpedaled up the ramp along with her employees, her gloved hand shielding the side of her face with a spiteful glare directed towards the impudent gamer girl.

Adrian scrambled to pull Gwendolyn back in as her entourage came to the Heiress' rescue, not willing to relent on beating the smug out of the blonde, but the crew would be earning their paychecks tonight as Gwen was whisked away from the former cosplayer's blows, leaving Adrian to lunge at the ropes and glare through them, looking down at the dishevelled French woman with utter malice, even as a smile crept in around the edges of her mouth.

"A-Are you alright Madam Bettencourt?! That was an unprovoked assault, Milady!! I'll contact the legal team immediately to begin pressing charg-"

"Here's your tag-title belt, Madam Bettencourt. I swiped it when she wasn't look-"

"Let me just...h-help you with your hair, Madam-"

Subservient yes-men and women swarmed around their illustrious employer to form a human blockade intent on tending to Gwendolyn's disheveled appearance and restoring her to her regal magnificence. Adrian herself was surrounded by her own army of peasantry supporters cheering the gamer girl's actions with ravenous applause like the mongrel wretches they were. Though neither competitor seemed to be offering their enthusiastic supporters much attention considering that their glaring iris' were honed in on eachother's, as if it were a silent acknowledgment of their palpable disdain for the other. Gwendolyn indeed having withstood all she cared to bear from this impertinent philistine as she stopped at the top of the ramp and halted her entourage's progression as well, the heiress snapping her satin-gloved fingers and calmly waited for one of her employees to scurry into the gorilla position to find a microphone and place it in her hand.

"...very well, Madam Kytes. You've made your intentions well known...so, allow me to leave you with but one final, parting gift to bookend tonight's dedication. And that, my dear...is the gift...of relevancy~...as the refined sophistication of the noble Bettencourt name...is seen beside your own pitiful and pathetic nom de guerre...on the fight card, of Avalanche." Gwendolyn bitterly enunciated to the hyped up adulation of the uncouth masses, eager to see this rivalry reach it's more physical continuation. "For one brief night, people will remember who you are as you bask in my glorious radiance...before ultimately cementing your legacy, as yet another uncivilized peasant, brought to their knees in humble subjugation before me..." Gwendolyn maintaining her vitriolic stare before taking a deep curtsy and exiting along with her employees.