“Rowdy” Roddy Piper sat confidently atop his padded metal folding chair. The blue wooden backdrop behind him proudly displayed the insignia of the EWE in shiny metallic paint, as several hanging photos displayed the ace wrestler in some of his finest moments. A sly grin was smeared across his face as the heels of his crimson wrestling boots bit into the cheap carpeted floor like symmetrical leather teeth.
His legs were spread in the showmanship of his own masculinity, furthered by the glistening red plaid quilt that was wrapped around his waist. Atop his chest, was his signature ‘Rowdy’ Roddy Piper t-shirt, with its crisp white cotton fabric contrasted by the word “Hot Rod” in a red and yellow border.
The crowd in front of him roared wrestlessly in anticipation, the reputation of the famous Piper’s Pit show preceding it amazingly. Smiling at the crowd’s enthusiasm, Piper slowly raised the EWE labeled microphone to his mouth, which was followed by a rushing blast of excited energy from the stands.
“Now,” boomed his voice from the stadium loudspeaker, his nasally Canadian accent biting the ears like a Diamond Dog with rabies. “If any of you guys remember, I mentioned that I’d be trying my best to get a certain somebody to be on the show tonight. A certain somebody who may or may not have what it takes to take down Mr. Blunderful next month at Wrestlemania.”
The crowd drummed in approval, clearly just as hopeful to see Piper’s mortal enemy lose in the squared circle as he was. Grinning and shaking his, Piper continued.
“But let’s not get ahead of ourselves now. The future is a tricky thing to predict and I think we all know who’s really gonna do Mr. Blunderful in, and I can guarantee, it ain’t gonna be anyone else but this guy right here!” He pointed the mic at himself and waited a moment as the crowd let out another burst.
“But enough about myself, we can focus on that later. For now, I’d like to present--” he made a sweeping gesture towards the blue curtained entrance to the small stage. “--the Pink Fury herself, Pink-ie Piiie!”
The crowd clamored at the drop of the golden name and voiced this reaction properly. In response, the blue flap was promptly pushed open by the mare herself, and she gleefully hopped out onto the stage with the energy of a coiled up spring.
A sunny beam was about her face as she bounced up and down without much care towards the folding chair adjacent to Piper, in no such hurry to get the ball rolling. Gesturing towards the seat, he smiled and said something blocked out by the still ecstatic crowd’s volume.
Nodding her head in approval, Pinkie Pie reached down under the chair and pulled out another EWE microphone, this one matching Piper’s in appearance, save for it being painted a splashy hot pink.
Not skipping a beat, Pinkie raised the microphone to her lips and spoke into it. “It’s great to finally be here Piper,” she said with her lively and cheery attitude. “I just looooove being here! It’s probably my second biggest wish come true.”
Piper smirked. “Oh really? Uh, what’s the first?”
“Doing a Cotton Candy Clutch on Hulk Hogan.”
The crowd split on this statement, some thundered in sporadic approval, happy that the stoic champ had gotten what was coming to him just two weeks earlier, while the Hulkamaniacs in the crowd howled in scorn, enraged that their god and savior had been humiliated by the pink pony.
Ignoring this, Piper pressed on.
“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” He looked out to the crowd and smiled once more. “For those who aren’t aware, word on the street is that the blonde-haired chump was picking pink sugar out of that mop he calls hair for weeks.” He pointed towards Pinkie. “I respect that.”
Pinkie giggled but quickly shifted into a state of utmost determination and rage. “I just hope I’ll get another chance this Wrestlemania, to finally teach that greasy bully a lesson. Hulk Hogan is going to regret saying my parties are lame, the nerve!”
Pinkie’s hooves were clenched tightly as she recalled the drama filled evening when Hulk Hogan declared that he’s thrown parties ten times more epic than Pinkie Pie’s at his Manehattan mansion, and that she was just a lame-o pretender for the title “Party Animal of the EWE”.
“Now hold on a minute,” interrupted Piper in exaggerated disbelief. “Are you tellin’ me that the champ of the EWE, the World Heavyweight Champion Hulk Hogan said that to you?”
“Darn tootin’!”
Piper shook his head solemnly but still grinned slyly. “Well there you have it folks, your hero, Hulk Hogan, nothing better than a name calling bully. It’s sad when wrestlers stoup to such low levels. I’ve seen it before, and it’s horrible.”
Piper touched this off without even a hint of irony, considering that he himself was one of the lowest of the low wrestlers most could call to mind. Whether it was racial slurs or smacking Jimmy Snuka over the head with a coconut, he never was above anything that would demoralize and humiliate his opponents.
A few in the crowd caught onto this and began to jeer him, but the scope of the crowd’s cheering (all clear Roddy Piper fans) blocked out most of this negative reception.
“I agree!” agreed Pinkie Pie. “His tyrannical tyrant tyranny has gone on quite enough. I say that we get a new Heavyweight Champion, one that’s kind and understanding...like you!” Pinkie gestured both her hooves toward Piper, who sheepishly nodded with a cocked grin.
“I can understand your mindset Pinkie, nominating me for the position. But the thing is, the title of World Heavyweight Championship is not just for those of the best talent, or the best class, or the best looks. It has to deal with a little something else.”
Pinkie’s eye’s lit up. “What is it Piper?”
Piper smiled and reached his hand out toward Pinkie Pie dramatically, building up suspense once again. “I’ll tell ya’ clear and straight, right here, for this entire stadium to learn the truth of what it really takes to be World Heavyweight Champion.”
“It’s got nothing to do with skill, lemme’ tell ya, but with what kind of wrestler can be bossed around and told what they gotta’ do!”
The crowd boomed in agreement, finally able to reach a consensus among itself.
“And that’s something both of us aren’t good at!” added Pinkie.
The stadium was nearly falling apart at this moment, the explosion of approval from nearly all in attendance shook the walls with it’s mass energy.
Realizing that the peak had been reached, Piper nodded to Pinkie, who in turn, nodded back to him an agreement.
“Well folks--”, announced Piper, most of what he said muffled by the insane crowd. “I thinks thats we all we have time for tonight. I wish I could explain more regarding what Mr. Blunderful will be gettin’ in the next few weeks, but I think I’ll leave that as a secret to the guy. So for now, I bid you farewell.” Piper and Pinkie both bowed to the crowd in unison under another hail of cheers.
The lights focused on the small stage quickly cut off as Piper and Pinkie made their way off stage shrouded in darkness. The crowd continued to holler for more, the lack of lighting not even mildly putting a curb on their fantastic enthusiasm.