Theme
And when the beat dropped, the gold-toned lights flared fully to life! Gold confetti rained ceremoniously down from the ceiling. It refracted the light in a dazzling display of gaudy gold. And at the top of the stage stood the Lightweight Champion!
Spoiler
Gone was the headband, replaced instead by a spade shaped hairband made of her namesake, rose gold. Her attire was more complex. Sleeves and Leggings were both speckled with shiny rose gold highlights. A collared top with a window that exposed the valley between her firm, perky breasts. Like her hairband, this too was cut to the shape of a spade, though this one was inverted. Both symbolic of her status as Ace.
Her bottoms were practically lingerie. Barely there at all. So high-cut were they that the muscles of her kissable inner thigh were bare for the world to see. A centimeter or two from indecency. The back was cut like a thong, allowing her round, athletic backside to bounce with every step she took. Every aspect of her femininity was accentuated. One look at her was enough to make even the most vigilant of opponent feel their heart beat hasten.
And lastly, she carried the symbol of her reign. The crown that made her Queen. The Lightweight Title. It hung over her shoulder, clutched by one hand. It's face was showing, her name embroidered prominently upon it.
She marched towards the ring with a microphone in her other hand. It was brought to her painted lips with a wry smirk. She mounted the apron and slipped into the ring. With a flourish she turned to face the ramp and her expression then curled into a dark smile as she put her lithe, sensual body on display for the audience.
She brought the microphone to her lips. "LAW!" She demanded attention! "Welcome your ACE!" She threw the hand that held the title skyward and allowed the lights to shine upon it!
As always, the reaction was -deafening-. There was no denying that Rose Gold was among the most popular members of the LAW roster. And as far as she was concerned, there was no difference between fame and infamy. She put her hand to her ear and grinned, soaking in the adoration.
"That's enough." She reprimanded the audience knowing full well that it was -never- enough.
"I have worked tirelessly to salvage the reputation of the otherwise forsaken Lightweight Division. To paint it in the color of athletic competition. Gone are the nights of talentless models pillow fighting for juvenile adoration. I have rebuilt this division from the ground up with the sweat of my brow!" She gestured to the Big Screen. Her accomplishments played out in a looping video package. It was completely devoid of foul play or moments of weakness.
"But I'm not done!" She paused. "There's still so much work to do..."
"So, with that in mind. Please join me in inviting my next guest to the top of the ramp!" The video package didn't stop. There was no music or fanfare.
"Ophelia Bailey. Tonight is your night! Come receive the Midas Touch! Come have your taste of Gold!" She lofted her belt above her head as she stared at the curtains that led onto the entrance ramp. Eagerly she awaited the arrival of her next victim. Er. Guest.