I can sense that the Lover's consciousness has drifted elsewhere, further proving his disworth as a champion of even the lowest tier should be focuses on nothing else when he is so seriously threatened by an omnipotent being such as myself. Is it possible he's trying to write his way out of this instead of physically kick out and defend himself? If so, he must be the slowest writer on Lucifer's red Earth.



So slow in fact, both physically and mentally that I've grown tired of this game, so I decide to wave my hands in the air and pull Loverboy's cell phone from his pocket.



" I am certain you've paid your cell phone bill. You're the type of mortal who couldn't live without his gadgets and social media, I'm sure. "



I use his phone's web browser app to visit the XWF's official website where I proceed to locate the accounts of Shane Anonistrator, John Madison, and a few other individuals who I know are endowed with the powers to make this count official and get me on my way with Loverboy's former title. I go ahead and tap my fingers against thin air, not wanting to catch anything from Loverboy by actually touching my flesh to his phone's screen, but then again I am beyond the faults of the flesh so I'd instantly cure any sexually transmitted disease the poor fool had anyway. Still though, why cure diseases on this Earth and hurt the pocket books of the ones referred to so amusingly as Big Pharma? Let them keep their diseases and income streams, I don't mind.



A few air taps later, I've typed out my message and sent it off to the appropriate parties. Nobody seems to have cared enough about Loverboy to be here to make a count on their own, so surely now it is only a matter of time before somebody arrives and this slack jawed mutt sees me float away, yes float away, with the very belonging he has tried so hard to keep out of Aerial Knight's feminine-like hands.



I return Loverboy's phone to his pocket, because I'm no thief in the night. I didn't rightfully pin him for his phone, I've rightfully decimated and humbled him for his golden trinket. We both know, he and I, that this sentiment has been a much greater telling than just a changing of the bottom tier championship. He hates it with all his might, though he'd never admit to it, that I've simply floated in and absolutely dominated him and there was never a single thing he could do about it. All he can do now, is try to win this title back, which I sincerely hope he does because he will be even less fond of what happens as a result.



I smile, loving every minute of this and milking this moment's tit for every drop it's worth, which really wasn't much considering who I'm standing on top of.



I remain on top of Loverboy in 1,000 different ways at once, something his damaged mind could never comprehend OR even TRY to IDENTIFY, while we wait.



Tick..

Tock..

Tick..

Tock..

Tick..

Tock..

Tick..

Tock..

Tick..

Tock..



Yawn. Even if he attempts something now, it's already too late as I feel my bladder begin to give me a pressure in my loins, and I allow it to unload right into his face.



Drip.

Tock.

Drip.

Tock.