Well, aren't I the lucky one? The wedge between the relationship gone sour; the red and white circular target, but I'm just viewed as a man to be taken lightly in this situation. I'm not against this whole, me being apart of the crazed manaics --- Mr. DEDEDE and Ryan Savage, wanting at each other's neck. I've been in Ryan Savage's shoes before, it sometimes feels bitter sweet when you gain vengeance via betrayal. But hey, why not prep myself for what I have ahead of me? It feels like it was yesterday that I walked out of this company, the day everything turned upside down for me. It was slated for me to defend my covenant World Heavyweight Championship in some shock collar strap match, against a man who's departures are even more ridiculous than my own. It's only ironic that a man as deranged as he was --- was attempting to redeem his consistent failures against me. He wanted revenge for his poor history, he stole my championship and he thought he could just hand himself what he had never earned. It's very much like your case, Ryan, but this case is commonly mistaken for "earning an opportunity" and "being handed an opportunity". What did he do to earn a championship match? What did you do to earn one? What grants you the nobility of being called one of two number one contenders for this championship? I've seen what has become a very lackluster career for you, and it appears that you thought it was best to break off of the man that kept you in the spotlight to begin with. And that's going the extra mile --- that's like saying that standing in a man's shadow, allowed you to shine brightly at all. Mr. DEDEDE would leave crumbs of success anywhere he roamed, and you would expect to see Ryan Savage following those crumbs with the thought of hunger; it's not the obesity that makes you hunger. It was your craving for the limelight, you know for certain... that on your own, in this savage company; a man that only pretends to be ferocious, can only keep that act up as long as he has something OR SOMEONE to support you. I'm I supposed to be afraid of you? Am I supposed to be afraid of a man that I once encountered and easily defeated with ease, alongside your partner with a man I teamed with the first time ever?

What is there to make my spine shiver, what do you even have to offer? Some poetic story of breaking out of a pack, to only find yourself being lead into a whole new herd of white wool? When I finished kicking in the head of Jacob Senn, when I picked up a victory that he will never forget --- I told myself, I had gone through everyone Dynasty had thrown at me. Every obstacle they put in front of me, I was always there to toppled right over it. I didn't go around it, I didn't beat around the bush. When I became the World Heavyweight Champion for the second time in my career, I wanted an actual challenge, as I did in my pitiful first go at being a World Champion. And I don't see a challenge in you, I don't see me putting much effort in beating you one one one, and I don't see me breaking a sweat when the cage locks all three of us in one ring. You know what I dread? I dread that the only person I'm keen on refacing is your former partner, and even then he has yet to obtain a single victory over me. It's going to show, despite adaptation, despite changing for what the person believes to be better for themselves --- nothing seems to ever change around here. Where will you go after this, Ryan? Where will the cold wind take you? You'll be a distant memory, you'll leave no impact, you'll wind up just like the last man that tried to solidify his career against me; forgotten. I almost pity Mr. DEDEDE, I pity the fact that he's had to deal with your obnoxious attitude, your inexperience as a whole, your reckless approach toward the industry yourself. You're like any other spiteful individual, picking up a microphone, speaking of fiction, and fearing the facts. I've seen men and women who will attempt at their very best to go the distance, and only get so far --- you differ no way from them, you have no unique trait to offer anyone. If anything, to be aligned with you at any point... it would be an awful burden to bare. It's why I'm more than grateful, that the hopes you're current building, the one match that you'll be strongly dependent on --- will become the same match that destroys your character. You're getting a slight taste, with your departed mentor observing closely, of what it truly feels like to step into an electric field of high velocity. You'll be like a moth to the flame, seek success out of wrath --- only to have it backfire in your face.

(Video fades in of Team DCW with their mentor venom throwing darts at a dartboard. On the dartboard hangs a photo of HexaGun with text on it in orange comic sans that says "HexaFags are Poopy Heads." They are attempting to throw darts at the photo.)

Maxwell Dachs: (Having just missed a dart throw.) I don't get it! How does he do it!

Venom: I don't think he actually does it himself. He probably doesn't even throw them he probably just puts them in there to look super edgy.

Dachs: Now Venom, we brought you here for a reason. We need to use your anime experience to help us defeat HexaGun. 

Venom: Alright so first we have this Drake asshole. He's basically as good a wrestler as Drake the artist is good at rapping. So not very. He's basically a massive hypocrite. He attacked poor El Landerson for wearing a mask when he teams with that big filthy monster Lulzmala. He really hurt El Landerson's feelings man.

(Camera pans to El Landerson, who is visibly upset.)

Landerson: Drake you racist. I'm going to defeat you at the Showdown FPV in a You Hurt My Feelings match. Maybe if you were nicer you'd have more friend. This kind of bullying is uncalled for. Thousands of kids die every year due to secondhand bullying. And I won't let you get away with it. 

Dachs: Then this wannabe Happy Jappy Asshole goes on to say some truly racist things about El Landerson. That is extremely offensive and sickening. You cracker. You need to check your white male privilege. You don't know what our buddy Landerson has gone through. You know just the other week on Halloween he saw a guy dressed a mariachi band member. And that ruined his day with that racism. And now you go and say those offensive things. Who do you think you are Mr. Anime man?

Landerson: Very very true bossman. He insulted my parents like that. They would never have the sex in a Taco Bell bathroom. It was a McDonalds. If that man thinks he has the audacity to insult me and me parents like that. He is the biggest eslut to ever work this earth since Maria Gonzales.

Venom: Yes Landerson, but you have to keep a level head. Trust me. No matter how much this cunt thinks he can rile you up by hitting you with low blows like insulting your parents. Don't let it get to your head. It just shows that he takes himself too serioslly and can't take shots above the belt like a real man. So you gotta ignore him and do what I do.

(Venom tosses El Landerson a bottle of beer.)

Venom: Drink from that and you'll be able to ignore him. I recommend you all do what I do and take slugs out these beer bottles before your match like I do. That's how I won all the time.

Landerson: Wow, thanks you Venom! This bottle of the beer will really keep my head on a swivel! Thank you for the advices Venom!

Kerry Keller: (Looking up from his phone, flips his hair, and rolls his eyes.) gosh. beer is soooo lame, ugh. i only drink things that are gluten free have no gmos. beer is just not dark and spooky enough to fit my emo persona. gosh.

Dachs: Then this racist Drake goes on to insult Kerry Keller by calling him a ruffian? That's a horribly racist microagression to throw at him, Drake. I'll have you know that Keller is being horrible appressed by ableist like you and the rest of HexaGun. Now you'll notice how he will never go right out and say it. And we know exactly why this is. Keller do you mind pulling down the screen.

Keller: (Throws his head up and flops his arms to the side.) gosh, you're so demanding. fiiiine. 

(Keller pulls down the screen and Venom turns on a light projection system. Revealing images of each HexaGun members, and a photo of a purse.  Dachs grabs a pointer and begins talking.)

Dachs: Alright boys. Here is why HexaGun members are too afraid to insult us directly. I have recieved some very legitimate medical records that show that all of the male members have had their testicles removed!

Landerson: oh my gods! their testicallys are gone you say? where are they now than? where did go?

Dachs: I was just getting to that you big dumb idiot! So, after they had their balls removed they were all placed into here! 

(Dachs points to the photo of the purse.)

Dachs: They were placed here. All of the male HexaGun member testicles have been placed inside the Heart Break Bitch's purse! And she now holds their testicles hostage! That's why they won't insult if directly like men! So instead they go after our parents or things we can't control like our race. It's horrible and a very shady tactic. 

(Dachs pulls the screen back up and Venom turns off the projector.)

Dachs: Then Drake went off the wall. He kept talking about his ass and me sticking things up there. What a faggot. I don't swing that way. Drake if you want me to stick my dick in your ass, ask HBG or Kerry Keller. 

(There is a knock at the locker room door. They open it to reveal DCW World Heavyweight Champion, TLA. All of Team DCW gasp.)

Team DCW: TLA!! What are you doing here?

TLA: Hola! I'm here to wish you guys luck against HexaGun this week. And don't let that coca butter asshole Tiberius Jones not giving you guys the time of day get you down. That just means he under estimates you guys. HexaGun doesn't take you all seriously. That just gives you the opportunity to get the surprise victory! Good luck and Fuck HexaGun!


Dachs: Thank you so much TLA. You're the best champion ever.

(All of Team DCW and TLA look at the camera and wink. video fades to black.)

So the verbal debate ends. Ladies, gentlemen, kids, friends, enemies... Heart Break Boy and I gave you all a free seminar involving sports, history, and philosophy, and you all now know more about both of us than you ever did before, especially those of you who have only tuned in to EAW when CWF and LEGION were around. It's clear that Heart Break Boy has changed. It's clear that I don't think he's changed to the extent that he claims. He wants me to get out of my "shell". I wanted to find a tortoise shell and hit him with one if he kept making that preposterous claim.

Personally, I can't wait until tomorrow. It'll be my first match in two years, and it'll be my first chance to prove to myself that I'm still at a point where I can do this as a career. I'm glad HBB and I can still talk - him spewing out different versions of trickery while I spewed out the same honesty and integrity I built my fanbase on. But, he's right on this front: I too know that we can outperform the youngsters here - the ones with the light in their eyes, excited for whatever opportunities present themselves. I say that because of, of all things, the past. The past may have made Heart Break Boy a better person, sure. Maybe it's done the same for me; maybe it hasn't. But, the past has made us both better in the ring. The battles we've had may have left physical scars as well as scars on our views on each other, but I don't think either of us is sorry for that in that sense. We may be slower as grizzled veterans, but we're tougher, we're smarter, and neither of us is going to go down without a hell of a fight, just like my World Champions, the Kansas City Royals. Sorry to HBB about that - I get the feeling he's more of a Cardinals guy.

Let me make this clear, HBB. I kept bringing up the piledriver on the chair as a way to show that 1) I wasn't sorry, 2) I wanted to inflict pain on you, not teach you a lesson, and 3)  I've spiked your head on a chair. I mean, that's among one of our most famous matches, the one at Tribal Warfare in CWF. I'm not looking to do that now. I want to win this match because I too need this match - this win - more than anybody else in Showdown needs a win right now. I'm not Dark Demon. I'm not going to try to end your career like he tried to do. I'm just going to win and leave you in the ring, as I've done before.

I've heard from people that they're excited for our match... some even more excited for this than for the match for the World Title. They're right to feel that way. World Title matches come and go, but this is something historic. Nobody thought that, for the rest of their lives, Heart Break Boy vs. Lioncross was going to happen two years ago, one year ago, or even three months ago. And, everybody, you may never see something like this again.

Showdown Redemption Promo: BAHM.

*Kerry is eating the abundance of Taco Bell that Dachs bought him and Landerson, Dachs had left the room briefly and Kerry put down his chelupa with a smile on his face, lightbulb going off in his head*

Kerry: Landerson, help me out with this, I'm planning to prank Dachsy-Senpai-Kun-Desu

Landerson: I don't speak Japan's or whateever ur speekin Kelly Keller

Kerry: I told you, for the last time, my name is Kerry. Anyway, fine, I'll just do it myself.

*Kerry, grumbling, gets up from his seat, puts down the chelupa, and wipes his hands. He then climbs up one of the lockers and lays down on his back, his head moving a bit off the edge*

Landerson: *is about go say something*

Kerry: I swear to god if you say one more word I'll kick your ass back over the border.

*Landerson goes back to eating his cruncwrap while Kerry looks in Dachs' locker for a mask, after finding one he throws it on and waits for Dachs to enter the room again*

*Dachs enters the room with another bag of Taco Bell after 5 minutes, he sets it down and starts looking around*

Landerson: Are you looking for Kelly?

Dachs: yeah, where is that emo Weeaboo fag?

*Kerry leans his head back, his head hangs a bit and he hangs upside down for a second*

Dachs: *flinches for a second, startled*

Landerson: *screams like a girl*

Kerry: LOOK GUYS, I'M LUZMALA, AN EMO WITH A MASK LA MUERTE, LA MUERTE, LA MUERTE, LA MUERTE!!!!!

*Dachs begins to laugh heavily, backing up a bit. Landerson is still whimpering*

Kerry: LA MUERTE!

*Kerry jumps from the top of the locker and takes off the mask, smiling a bit*

Kerry: did you hear that Luzmala guy? I don't speak Spanish. What does La Muerte mean Landerson?

Landerson: it means death

Kerry: so, he just said death that hole time? Sounds like one of my early promos

*Maxwell Dachs is still laughing, after a few moments he stops and picks up his drink, Kerry gets on his phone and starts texting, and Landerson is still eating*

Dachs: Stop texting, Weeaboo Newfag Edgy Queerface.

*Kerry flips his hair to the side a bit*

Kerry: I can text whoever I wanna text, Dachs.

Dachs: what happened to you chasing after Maria Gonzales Landerson?

Landerson: she left before Landerson could face her at In Her House PPV

Dachs: she probably left because you can't speak proper English.

*Kerry laughs a bit*

Dachs: now, we all need to get ready to defeat Hexa-Gay tomorrow, hands in!

*they all put their fists on each other's fists*

Dachs: Team DCW on three

All: ONE! TWO! THREE! TEAM DCW!

*they all start laughing hysterically as the feed cuts*

Our scene opens at a card table in the back of a dusty bar. Galveston Royale, The Pure Athlete, is sitting at the table with three other men. His back is to the distressed wooden wall. He wears a leather duster and black Resistol hat.

I'm a gambling man. I'm a family man, too. I'm a little bit sour, but I'm mostly a sweetheart. I'm a scoundrel with a heart of gold. WHat you really need to know about me is that I'm a winning man.

Galveston tips his hat up and talks directly, eyes burning in the dim light.

I wish I could take some time to really introduce myself but I've got an angry man on my hands and angry men are nothing to be ignored. Angry men have passion... misplaced passion... but passion none the less. Passion is powerful when used correctly but I'm not sure Daniel Marshall has aimed his passion properly. You see, Daniel has aimed his anger and passion at my family. My family, having been here all but five minutes, having said not much at all in anyone's direction, is already inciting anger and passion in people like the Higher Powers.


Galveston shakes his head.

It's a cheap trick. You're playing like you've got a strong pair, but I'm betting your holding nothing better than unsuited connectors under there. You see, you really have nothing to say to me or my family because you don't know us. You're not angry because we ignored you, you're angry because you're afraid. You have no idea what cards we're holding and its driving you a little batty. That's okay. Let me put your mind at ease.

Galveston puts some money in the pot of the game he's playing.

My name is Galveston Royale. I'm a pure athlete and I'm not afraid to back that up in the ring. And yes, I am a redneck by attitude and by trade. Yee. Haw.

Galveston smirks and plays his cards. The other players grumble and throw their cards down.

Now you know what I'm holding. My brother... well, I'll let him do his own talkin' but I'm sure you'll like him all the same. He's a redneck too.

Galveston collects his winnings.

So don't be afraid Daniel. When we meet in the ring I'll back up everything I am and you'll know the Royale Family good and nice.

The scene fades on Royale's smirk.

 
Hola amigos, and welcome to another episode of the Dank Files on the big YouTube phenomenon, I’m your boy Piff Fumador smoking a YouDoob that’s in it’s own right a phenomenon. Huckleberry kush that’s the finest from Tennessee, and I’ll be smoking this at Voltage before I get that 1, 2, 3… More on that in a bit but I need to address what happened last week on Voltage. I stood out, kicked out and flipped about to beat my partner Landerson and some chump he was it. Q-Tip once asked me if I could kick it, and in this match last week I said “yes I can” as I tore up Zayn Christ with a 420 Splash to get a win in the centre of the ring. My grande legacy is being built, esé. The legacy that Piff Fumador is the greatest luchador in EAW, smoking trees and shaking knees for all the la-dies who want a piece of the Piff. There are some mighty fine Vixens out there, and just as an open invitation for any of them, you’re all welcome to some ‘bong hits and chill’... If you know what I’m saying… Because in the land of the elite, one masked weed smoker is stronger than concrete, ready to prove anyone wrong who thinks Tijuana’s Finest Strain won’t last long. I AM HERE EAW! I AM PIFF FUMADOR HOMBRE!
 
And I know there are sceptics, but the mighty Mos Def said it best; “This new math is whipping motherfuckers ass, you wanna know how to rhyme you better learn how to add”. And at Shock Value, Piff Fumador is bringing his calculator, esé. I don’t care who’s in the battle royal, whether it’s Clark Dank-an, Carson Rimstank or even my boy El Landerson. I want my shot at the Answers World Championship. To be fair, you get the same shit with half of the gringos in EAW. It’s all about destiny, and “this is my life”; people who’s air they breath and water they drink is about being a world champion. Me, Piff Fumador, the air I breathe is mostly mixed with some smoky THC and I’m happy just kicking back will a blunt of some sticky icky icky… HOWEVER… Kicking back with a doob of the finest is a lot more chill when you’re sitting with a world championship over your shoulder, am I right amigo? See people aren’t gonna be going into that match thinking I even have a chance, I’m constantly undermined as legit because I like a bit of kush…. Okay a lot of kush… But still no one understands that it’s part of who I am, we all saw, we okay some of us saw Battleground a few weeks ago; I had a drug test so was clean for a week, and Maxwell Dachs of all gringos got the win against me. Some puto like Maxwell Dachs, who wipes his ass without toilet paper so his hand smells like his personality, beat your boy Piff Fumador! That’s how serious it is when I DON’T smoke, so come Shock Value it might as well be 4:20 because I’m gonna be lighting homies up in that ring left and right…
 
I need as much steam going into this battle royal as I can, and no I’m not talking about vaping… However that’s a bueno idea, esé! See I got the win last week, and when I beat Jay Omen at Voltage this week I’m gonna be on a roll heading into Shock Value; on a roll like the blunt in my hand while I’m here talking to my YouTube subscribers. This gringo’s going around saying he’s gonna sacrifice me to show EAW he means business going into Shock Value. OOOOOH I’M SO SCARED OF THE FRANCHISE DICKCHEESE! The accomplishments he can’t stop himself from bragging about are pretty much diamonds in the rough, hombre. Jay, don’t act like you took Hades to the limit at Battleground, he went medieval on your ass and made you his bitch. Just like all the other mierda you’ve done in EAW, a skidmark on your underpantalonos of mediocrity. Don’t try to tell me I’ll be feeling “low” when you send me “six feet under”, I could be at the bottom of the ocean and still be high as a kite, VIVA LA VIDA LOCO! You can’t handle my new signature move, it’s a variation on the running enziguri that I call the Kush Coma! That as well as a DDTHC or dios forbid for your sake a 420 Splash, you’ll be down for the count Jay O’loves-men. You’re aware you have critics, homie, and that’s only because everyone knows what a joke you are – and come Sunday I’ll be the punch line when I beat you in the middle of the ring.
 
Oh yeah, and there’s some other puto in the match at Voltage… Some gringo called Warrior V1. Honestly I don’t know about this guy that much, half because I’m high as muerda, half because I guess he’s just not worth knowing. He’s another one of these hombres getting opportunities he doesn’t deserve, getting a place in the Pure tournament while your boy Piff Fumador was knocking about in Battleground getting drug tested and tricked into taking laxatives by Maxwell Dachs. But finally Tijuana’s Finest Strain is back on Voltage, kicking ass and smoking grass; and I’m here to show EAW that I’m the greatest luchador to ever step into the ring. Just like De La Soul once sang, it’s just ‘me, myself and I’ in that battle royal at Shock Value, even if my boy El Landerson is in the match. 2016 is the year of Piff and what better way to end this year than with a win in the shock collar battle royal and eventually the shock collar battle royal… Oh wait, I mean ‘and the Answers World Championship’… Sorry I’ve been smoking this huckleberry kush throughout this whole video… Anyways I’m signing off here, thanks to all my subscribers for watching the Dank Files. And come Voltage Sunday - Jay Omen and Warrior V1, you better bring some fire extinguishers. Because your boy Piff Fumador… Is gonna… BLAZE… YOU…. UP…

DESCHUTES COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT
 
CASE FILE 45351: November 5^th, 2015, 04:50 – Margaret Thatcher, a 22-year-old biology teacher from St. Agnes Elementary School in Bend, Oregon, was found beaten and shaken up early Thursday morning in the Deschutes River Woods. Victims matching Thatcher’s description have been disappearing throughout Deschutes County and the surrounding areas. Thatcher, the only missing person that has been discovered alive in these allegedly intertwined disappearances, was found with her limbs tied tightly by rope to two parallel trees. With her limbs extended outward and her body lifted off the ground, she was hung there and believed to be raped several times by at least three other men according to her testimony. During these alleged rapes, she was forced to wear a blindfold and “squeal like a little piggy”. When they were over, she was forced to “repent and pray” because she had “sinned” according to the men who had her. She was left in the Deschutes River Woods for at least 3 nights, all the while blindfolded, but has been missing for fifteen days. More information will be included in later documents in order to pinpoint potential suspects. Several semen samples were taken from Thatcher after she was discovered.
 
[END EXCERPT]
 
The camera pans downward from the tree branches against the murky grey sky and downward toward a blindfolded woman tied to two tries, her head hanging as she weeps. Her hair hangs down in front of her face. Her clothes are badly torn and ripped, her panties dangling off of one ankle with her long, old-fashioned skirt ruffled up behind her. Her sobbing goes quieter as the camera moves backwards and captures the sounds of a man stepping forward. This man is wearing a dark suit, but is clearly—to those who can see him at least—not the perpetrator. He wears a darkened black mask and takes a step toward the woman. The woman freezes.
 
Woman: STOP! Please, God, no more. I want to go home. I want to see my family. Please don’t do this. PLEASE!
 
The woman begins weeping again. The main in the mask says nothing but continues to step forward until he is inches away from her. With her body raised up, her head hangs just about even with the man’s chest. He reaches out and grabs her chin, lifting her head up as she stops weeping. She begins to realize that this isn’t one of the men who abducted her or raped her. This was someone else.
 
Voice: You were warned about this. You had seen on the news what was going on, but you convinced yourself that this would never happen to you. Week after week, some new, unsuspecting girl was stripped away from her life, from her home, from her family. And now that you ignored those warnings, you got to find out where each of them went—to some degree, that is. They haven’t had their chance to rip the last bit of yourself away from you and slit your throat like all of the others. In some warped way, I guess some would consider you one of the lucky ones. You’ll be found here soon and you’ll be heralded as a sign of God’s unending love. You’ll be seen as one of the most blessed women to have walked the earth because although you were degraded, molested, beaten, and raped, you lived. La Muerte didn’t take you.
 
The woman tries to turn her head away as she begins sobbing again. The man in the mask continues staring at her with tears running down her cheeks, soaking through the blindfold wrapped tightly around her head. He doesn’t say a word but forces her face back toward his. He tilts it up so that her face directly faces his.
 
Voice: You and I both know that that isn’t how you’ll feel. You’ll wish that you were dead, that La Muerte had a kind enough heart to lift you away from the burden that is life and let your body rot somewhere while people hold out hope that everything is okay, that you’re still living and still trying to find your way home. Now when you go back you’ll be remembered for what happened to you hear in these woods. You will wish for La Muerte every time you are asked to recall what happened to you hear, asked to remember why you decided it was a good idea to even walk alone around here at night when you knew full well that something sinister was happening just beyond the tree line. Many will stand up for you, saying that blaming the victim does nothing. But you know that you should have known better than to tempt fate. And the guilt of your own decision will eat away at you for the remainder of your life until La Muerte.
 
But your decision to tempt the evil lurking in the darkness isn’t exclusively yours. Many others have made the same mistake to blindly move through territory where they should have avoided. This “Team DCW” group has consistently disrespected not only the group that I’m a part of, but who I am and what I’ve been through. They have mocked my culture like so many others have. They have only scraped the surface of what I am by poking fun at fast food incarnations of classic dishes of Hispanic cultures. They’ve scoffed at the meaning behind the mask. And worst of all, they disrespected the journey I’ve been on—the trek through darkness that has had me dragged along by the temptation of La Muerte, through pain and through misery, until I could actually see again. The only option I had was the hide my face. I’m not who I was before I experienced what it was like to pray for La Muerte. Now I know better, and now I know that my mission is to work for the honor of La Muerte. What “Team DCW” has repeatedly done to disrespect a credible movement is not only ridiculous. It’s naive. They should know better than to dangle themselves out willingly to a group of vigilantes like Hexa-Gun and they should know better than to get in my way. Because I won’t just point out their disrespect. I won’t just end the jokes and the games and the punch line after punch line after punch line that they try to lay out every week. I will take them to the point where they beg for La Muerte the same way that you do. They’ll be worshipped for having endured such suffering by my hands, but they’ll have wished that they didn’t have to carry the weight of the memory.
 
The masked man lets go of the woman’s chin and begins to back away, turning to leave as his feet crush the fallen leaves below him. He takes two steps as the woman lifts her head and calls out.
 
Woman: Wait! If it’s so obvious that there’s something bad that’s going to happen and it keeps on happening over and over again, why do people continue to put themselves in a position where they could get themselves hurt? Why do people keep thinking the same stuff won’t happen to them? Why don’t they realize this could happen to anyone?
 
Voice: There will always be people who continue to think that they’re a different breed than everyone else. Each week, I see another person step up to me and tell me that what I’ve done thus far is an overreaction. They don’t see skill in what they do. They see fight, but they don’t see skill. They think that they can overcome the power that drives me, the power that I serve in La Muerte. You see Eclipse Diemos on Voltage telling me that I’m a watered down version of some darkness—that I’m no monster. I have heard repeatedly that I’m not immortal—and thank god that I’m not. The fuel of my anger is that I had to endure because I didn’t prove mortal enough to die when I most wanted to. But what I began realizing the more that I endured, the longer that I wished La Muerte would beat out life, she was always in command. Death is stronger than the will of life. Always. Sooner or later, death will win. You will win a battle against cancer but death will still claim you. You will endure humiliations and shame and harness this power to keep living, but sooner or later that depression will kill you. It will catch you. La Muerte will always find a way to win and she knows it. That’s why she chooses to toy with us. What makes me a monster isn’t anything fantastical. I don’t have powers from beyond the grave that allows me to transcend the limits of being human. I don’t claim at all to be immortal. I don’t hide under children’s beds to jump out to scare them. I don’t do anything that makes me a storybook monster. What makes me a monster is the fact that I’m nothing like that; I, instead, am a normal man who was trapped in a cage for years and years, forced to endure what it was like to hate life so much that death was realistically my only salvation. I am a normal man who was forced to kill, who was forced to beat and scream and degrade over and over again for the sake of seeing someone else do it. I am a normal man turned into a monster. What makes me a monster is that I am human. I am real. This isn’t a storybook. Nothing I do is meant to scare people for the sake of scaring them. But if I scare you, so must death.

 
To rise, you must first burn.
 
   
The woman remains silent and takes a gulp, all the while attempting to soak in what she just heard. She nods her head as the masked man takes one last long look at her and then, without another word, turns again and begins to walk away. He disappears behind the trees as a dog immediately runs out from behind the same tree the man disappeared behind. The dog runs up to the girl and barks as a group of volunteers come across the woman. One of them calls out over the radio, “God. Thank God. She’s still alive. We found her! We found her! God is great! Thank God Almighty, Margaret has been saved by God!” The camera pulls away from the scene, upward until it slips into the branches and fades to black.

OOC: THIS IS DUB POSTING FOR DEMON BECAUSE HE CAN'T POST. DUB POSTING FOR DEMON.

[ The following has been produced by, recorded by and sponsored by DCW. #TeamDCW ]

We step into the Cage of Death, we stare each other down and then I throw a punch but it doesn’t faze you and you begin to unload on me. You throw everything you have at me as I hit the mat and you grab every weapon you can find to hit me with. I begin to bleed everywhere, you tear me apart limb from limb. You torture me, you make me tap out and I have to be carried out of the arena while you hold your newly proclaimed Hall of Fame Championship high in the air and you get inducted into the EAW Hall of Fame by Jaywalker, you make a lovely speech and all your hard work finally becomes immortalized before you walk into your big Pain for Pride match against a huge legend in the business and finally seek your redemption from your failed EAW Championship reign and prove everybody who ever doubted you or said you were overrated to be wrong.

That’s how it’s supposed to go, isn’t it Cage? That’s the Cinderella redemption story for you. That’s what you and everybody thinks will happen, that’s what they want to happen, what they dream of happening.

But this isn’t a Cinderella story. This isn’t a Disney movie, there is no happy endings here. 
What’s really going to happen is, we’re going to step into that Cage of Death, we’re going to stare each down and I’m look into your eyes and see them break. I’m going to see the fear in your eyes because you’ll realise just who you’re in that Cage of Death with – you’ll instantly remember I’ve gone through the most bloodiest wars in EAW with Starr-Stan, with Mr. DEDEDE, with Zack Crash and Hades the Hellraiser, with Xavier Williams and you’ll realise pretty fast that you’re in over your head. You’ll remember very fast everything that I’m capable of doing, you’ll remember very fast that not one person has been able to get one over since my return, you’ll remember very fast that you’ve never been able to win the ‘’big one’’ and I’ve always preformed in high pressure matches. You’ll remember how hard I hit, how accurate I hit, you’ll remember how fast I move and how dangerous I am with a weapon in my hand. You’ll remember how your biggest moves didn’t even faze me at Territorial Invasion. You’ll realise that I don’t actually fear you, that I’ve feared you. You’ll realise I know I’m going to win, you’ll realise that I know I’m better than you in every way. You’ll realise that everything I say isn’t ‘’trash talk’’ but simply the truth. 

You’ll see all that from one staredown Cage. I’ll have you beat before we even throw a bunch. 
I really do not understand why you are being stubborn about this, I don’t see why you continuously try and do this with me. You’re not going to beat me Cage, we both know this. We both know just exactly what you are capable of doing and it’s vastly below me. You don’t hit like I hit, you don’t move like I move, you don’t think I like think. I’m an entirely different breed of an athlete than anybody in EAW. When I hit you, you’re going to break, I’m going to hurt you and that’s just from one punch Cage. I’m going to break you down Cage, I’m going to plaster your nose to the other side of your face. I’m going to break your jaw. I’m going to render your ribs useless. What I did to your wife was nothing but it told me a lot when I was begging, BEGGING you to get back into that ring and you walked right out – that’s the biggest sign of fear I’ve ever seen. You’re not going to run away from me now Cage, there won’t be excuses now. You haven’t even said a word to me yet, I’ve literally been waiting a week for you and you’ve said nothing yet. Are you going to flee the country like HBB? Are you running scared of me like HBB? I’m disappointed. It’s like I always said – they all want it, until they get it. 

I’m gonna end Diamond Cage.

The scene begins with a backstage view of Pittsburgh’s famous daily talk show, Pittsburgh Today! The camera immediately focuses on the people swarming around backstage with frustrated looks on their faces. A tall, blonde, thin woman walks in front of the camera and sits down on her chair. She is swarmed by makeup artists, stylists and her personal assistant.
 
Assistant: Gale! Finally I see you! Where have you been?
 
Gale: I went to the break room to see the disgusting pigs feast upon their inhumane genetically modified food. It felt good.
 
Assistant: Oh, uhhh okay. Oh! By the way, today’s 10:30 a.m slot will go to a EAW wrestler. Her name is Eris LeCava and here is a quick overview of her career and accomplishments.
 
The assistant hands Gale, the interviewer, a crumpled up piece of paper and Gale pinches the paper with her two fingers.
 
Gale: Lovely.
 
Assistant: Okay, all you have to do is ask her about her upcoming match at the sold out show Redemption down at the PNC Park and how she feels. Oh! And don’t forget to mention—
 
Gale slowly gets up and looks at the assistant in her eyes. Gale is unable to frown due to the immense amount of botox in her forehead, however she still shows her dislike with the assistant.
 
Gale: I got it. I’ve been doing this for 27 years. No “Wrestler” is going to get me off my groove. Send her in!
 
The camera fades then an image quickly reemerges. This time, an eager, free-spirited Eris LeCava walks into the building and is in awe while looking at the people working hard. She sits down on a wooden chair and is bombarded by makeup artists and stylists. Finally, after 20 minutes the interviewer, Gale, walks in.
 
Eris: Hi! It’s so nice to meet y---

Gale: Not on the mood, perky tits….. HELLO!
 
The shows music begins to play as the angry Gale leaves and a happy, giddy Gale emerges.
 
Gale: Good morning, Pittsburgh! Today we have a VERY special guest! She is a famous wrestler from LEGION, please welcome my guest at this time… ARIES LECAVA!!!
 
Eris: Oh my name is actually pronounced like AIR-RESS—
 
Gale: So Aries, tell me, how do you feel knowing that you’re competing for the Special Ed Championship?
 
Eris: Um…
 
Eris looks around and Gale’s assistant frantically comes up and hands Gale a piece of paper.
 
Gale: My apologies, looks like I didn’t read my notes correctly. I apologize! Anyway, SO ARIES, how do you feel knowing that you’re competing for not only one, but TWO titles!?
 
Eris: Well, it’s certainly a shock but I’m ready to overcome any challenge that I am faced in my beloved EAW!
 
Gale: (slaps her hand on her hand rest and whispers “Oh cut the shit!”) Oh, come on Aries! I’m sure you have something else to say. What about something juicy? Or something that NO ONE knows about your opponents, hmm??
 
Eris: I understand that you’re trying to get as much information as you possibly can out of me to get ratings up for your show, but there’s noting that I can say negatively about my opponents or EAW. I am so happy that finally my hard work is being recognized and that I’m finally getting the chance to compete not only for the Specialist Championship but also get a shot for the Vixen’s championship at Shock Value. I’m not trying to sound cocky, Gale, but these opportunities are long overdue.
 
Gale: Long overdue? What makes you say that?
 
Eris: Ever since I debuted in EAW, I’ve shown that I’m not just some other cookie-cutter Vixen. I bring something different to the table. Whenever I have a match, people are at the edge of their seats! People aren’t bored of watching Eris LeCava in the ring because they know that I’m going to bring something different in every single match. However, despite my overwhelming support from the fans, it seems like I’m never good enough to get a spot at the top. I’m always pushed to the side lines as the other controversial Vixens get a shot at gold and get all of the attentions from fans and EAW officials alike. There were some instances where I thought “Does this mean I have to do something controversial in order to get somewhere around here?” Like running around naked or better yet, just talking a bunch of trash? Those thoughts did cross my mind from time to time, although I always kept my composure. I could’ve easily humiliated other Vixens by pointing out their flaws but even if I was just playing a fake role, I couldn’t do it. I can’t sit at the top of the tier knowing that I stepped on every single Vixen to get up there. Here’s where my problem with the CURRENT Vixen champion lies. That woman is the most conniving, disgusting, inhumane simpleton that I’ve ever met! And trust me – I’ve spoken to Maria Gonzales and that says a lot! I don’t understand how she can call herself “God’s Gift” when in fact she’s the devils reject.
 
Gale: Tell me, Aries, why this animosity and hatred towards Madison?
 
Eris: This strong dislike towards Madison has been constructed over the past couple of months due to her idiotic nature. She is the sole reason why I lost the Empress of Elite tournament. She got that cheap win from me when Chuck Scene came out during our match and ever since then it went downhill. She then won for our block, and for what, Gale? She lost as she laid flat on her face as Aria Jaxon won the entire thing. She could’ve given that spot to someone who is actually in Aria’s level. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been bothered if Cameron won because I know that she holds herself with class and prestige. Madison on the other hand? She’s the trashiest of them all. She has been slowly downgrading the reputation of that poor championship. Madison is the sole reason why I decided to call myself the Anti-Vixen. I’m ready to take back that championship and put it in the hands of someone who embodies this division. Someone who lives, breathes, eats this business. Someone who would do anything for this company…That someone is me. Maddie, Madison, whatever you want to call yourself… get ready. I am coming at full force.
 
Gale: Wow, your intensity is simply popping right out of your body! Amazing! It also seems like your opponents for the Specialist Championship are also in a tussle. Any words before your big match tomorrow night?
 
Eris: I’ve had a lot of criticism come my way ever since I announced myself as the number one contender for the Vixen’s championship. I understand where they’re coming from and I definitely sympathize with them in every way possible. I don’t really take into consideration their thoughts or harsh criticism because I know damn well if they were in my position they would be soaking every ounce of glory they possibly could. They shouldn’t be angry that I have not only one, but TWO chances to put my name in the record books – they should be happy for me! This jealousy that is emitted throughout the Vixen’s locker room is pathetic. I mean, I get it! They’re angry but jeez, has it ever hurt to look me in the eyes and shake my hand as you sincerely congratulate me for the success that has been coming my way? I’ve worked my behind off to get to this spot and excuse my French, Gale, but FUCK the doubters. I can be very nice and empathetic with all of the Vixens but there are just some times when I am DONE dealing with the Vixens with the high school mentalities. However, don’t get me wrong – I appreciate my fellow wrestlers who have had my back since day one… But there’s so much a gal can take. I would tell my opponents one by one as to why they’re going to lose on Redemption but there’s no point. I’m not going to waste my breath on individuals who have my words go in from one ear and out from the other. All I have to say is actions speak louder than words.
 
The camera begins to fade as Eris frantically tries to get one word in.
 
Eris: Oh! And Maria I beat you twice you monstrously insufferable twit. You’re a fucking degenerate cold-hearted molester of small furry animals. I can’t anything you say seriously because you gave yourself this reputation of begin this “bad girl who defies any authoritative orders.” Don’t think I’ve forgotten about Voltage. I’m happy to be partnered up with Cailin Dillion, a wrestler who I believe deserves more recognition amongst one another. Cailin and I are going to give you both a run for your money. And that’s all I have to say about that.
 

The two ladies smile as the camera finally fades to black. 

Alexis lets out a soft sigh as she paces outside of the doctor’s office, rubbing her arm in thought from the news that she heard. She smiles to herself and shakes her head, clearing her mind before noticing the cameraman coming towards her. She brushes her dress down a bit and sits down on the bench, offering a smile to the cameraman as she clears her throat.


“Hello EAW universe...it’s me Alexis. I took a pretty bad fall at the last show and...thought it would be best to check with the doctor to see if anything had happened. He says I’m all good to go so I think it’s only fitting that Sunday Night Voltages preshow gets to experience me first hand...the show in which my husband dominates on the roster gets to experience the power of some real vixens. I can’t wait to show them what I have in store for them.”


She grins tugging on her dress a bit more before her eyes lower and she looks past the cameraman. The camera turns, trying to follow what she sees but there is nothing in the distance except a grouping of buildings. The camera turns back to her, but she is standing at this time and is checking something on her phone.


“I’ve faced off against almost everyone in that entire group. I’ve fought those on my team, and all but one on the enemy team. The new one...Dahlia Monroe. She’s...different. She isn’t the dark one like Raven Lee...nor is she overconfident in her skills like Madison Kaline...but she is different. She has a strange power in her that I haven’t seen in quite some time. I want to know what she can do in that ring, and I will find out tomorrow on Showdown I guarantee it.”


She cracks her neck in thought before looking back down at the sidewalk and letting out a soft breath. She places her hand gingerly onto her stomach, rubbing it absentmindedly before her eyes turn towards the camera again and a smile appears on her face.


“Don’t you worry Serena Ji. I won’t betray you in our match. I desire victory, not some worthless vengeance scheme. You and I are on the same page in this scenario. We both want victory so let’s work together and take it by force. I have nothing to lose in this match, and I think I’d like to test out some new found strength. You ready...friends?”

She laughs to herself as she walks off, holding her stomach a few times before she vanishes into the distance. The camera turns back to the bench and then moves up to look at the doctor’s office before it cuts off completely.

Ashten you slick son of a bitch, looks like you’re two for two.  A Parking Lot Brawl between me and Oasis is a sure-fire money maker, as I’m confident there’s an arena full of people who want to see me stomp a mud hole in this undeserving little punk’s ass and walk it dry; but unlike the inferior adversary placed before me, I’m not looking to cripple him with Shock Value right around the corner.

For three reasons:
One, I don’t like spoilers.  As a kid growing up in a low-income family, we knew that we couldn’t have or indulge in the luxuries that the upper-middle class citizens were privileged with, but Christmas was a day highlighted on every kid’s calendar.  The other three hundred and sixty four days of the year just paled in comparison to it; there was no time like Christmas time.  Now in my household we only got one gift each from our parents, along with the option of opening our gift on Christmas Eve every year.  Depending on their levels of excitement, sometimes my younger siblings would take our Mother up on her offer, but I never did; no matter how excited I was I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I’d waited all year long for Christmas Day, and I wasn’t about to ruin the surprise because I couldn’t wait another measly twenty four hours.  Same case here, I’ve waited all month long for Shock Value, and I’m not about to spoil it over a petty argument with someone who on any given day wouldn’t even be on my radar.

Two, there’s no lesson behind it.  Ensuring Oasis’ inability to compete that weekend would mean I miss out on an opportunity to hit him where it hurts; in a man’s most vulnerable area – and no, not his testicles...I’m certain I’ve done that already anyways.  But no, it’s his Heart.  Oasis has debated...cried...thrown his fair share of tantrums here and there...and done everything except fight and rightfully earn his spot in our little Title Match next Saturday; so to take it away from him this early into the game would be proven too easy an endeavor for me and too painless of one for him.  A man can’t truly feel the pain of losing something he was never in arm’s reach of in the first place; so I’ll beat him badly enough to win the match at hand but not so much that he isn’t medically cleared to compete.  Because it is at Shock Value when he takes a gander at the ovation I’m receiving for all of my effort and the Official placing the Answer’s World Title into my hands, that’ll really hurt him.

Three, that’s exactly what Dubian wants us to do; this’ll mark the third week in a row he’s gone without a match, and having Oasis and I in such a high risk contest could guarantee him an easy win if we’re too fatigued to compete.  Now I don’t want to call the kid(Scott Oasis) stupid, but he’s not too sharp when it boils down to noticing the bigger picture that is standing two feet in front of him.  Perhaps if he had more experience in this sort of thing, he wouldn’t be entering this conflict as a man whose vision has been impaired by his emotions.  And if there’s one thing that has managed to stick with me throughout the several grueling years of my training, it’s that an emotional man is a dangerous man, but he comes off as more of a liability to himself than those around him.  Meaning that because a man who is emotional chooses to let his emotions autopilot and control every move he makes in the ring, he himself is twice as vulnerable to blunder as a man who fights with intellect.  In this situation, I’d say he has as much a chance in this brawl with me as a man fighting the Devil in Hell.  As far as he should be concerned, I am the Devil, and that concrete jungle he’ll enter this Sunday is Hell.

It may be his playpen, but it’s my playground.  Think about it, Crowbars...Windshields...Open-ended Wrenches...Biker Chains...Led Pipes...Aluminum Bats...it’s practically every Biker’s Dream Match because there are no disqualifications and no holds barred.  If I have half the mind to I could slam his head into a car door, powerbomb him through the hood of some poor sap’s car, chokeslam him through a windshield, or hotwire the damn thing and run him over with it.  I could even chain him up to the back of my hog and drag his sorry carcass from here all the way to Vegas, and the best part about it is no one would say a thing ‘cause it’s all fair game.   I’m aware that I vowed not to cause him permanent bodily injury, but that doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be wary; because even a man with a crushed larynx, broken hand, and thirty two stitches in his head can still be medically cleared to compete.  That and temptation is a powerful thing, one that could persuade me to alter my decision if need be.

Before I conclude here I want to make aware that I heard his speech prior to this and noticed quite a few major holes in his story.  First and foremost, I can admit that I am not the best role model for children.  I have cheated, stolen, and done a lot of things that the general public would more than likely frown upon; but one thing I am not is a liar.  Everything I’ve said about little Scottie – including him being a punk ass bitch – can be supported with ocular proof.  Take his claims that insinuate I of all people went crying to the General Manager for a World Title opportunity for instance, now I’m sure any and everyone on the Voltage roster would recall his little in-ring crying session four weeks ago, his run-in interference on two grounded individuals, and his flee from the ring when the reaper came a calling three weeks ago.  So let’s stop this silly tough guy debacle, because everyone is Billy Badass until they run into Billy Badass.

Those allegations are just as fictitious and ignorant as his assertion that I would beg Ashten to fight El Landerson of all people for the No.1 Contendership.   But if he took the chance to review and rewind the tapes from four weeks ago, he’ll see that Ashten made that match prior to me even being in the same room with him.  Also, I was never the kid’s mentor nor were his telling of the events at Pain for Pride VIII accurate.  The whole run-in was planned two weeks prior to the event itself.  Because he wasn’t too keen on Elitist who spoke out of turn, Crash then sought out help from me to help bring resolution to this issue, I was more than happy to oblige – for the right price – and take some of the heat off of his back because there was still a part of me that actually respected him.  So when the “going got tough” I never aided in Crash, he aided in me!

I really wish people who spoke on events – especially those that have footage deep in the EAW’s Archives – would take the time to review them and maintain some level of accuracy prior to speaking out and making a complete fool of themselves *cough, cough* Scottie Oasis *cough, cough* but they’ll learn their lesson soon enough.  And if I was such a washed up, disgraceful, and low individual why did he even bother to work for someone like me?  It’s a question that has plagued my mind for weeks, and one that I doubt he’ll ever be bold enough to formulate an answer for.

 
So I suppose I have something I should apologize for. I’m a liar, or so I’m told. I’m just full of hot air. I have a big mouth, apparently. I’m unfocused, I hear. Also, I’m in need of a huge ego check according to some. I’m not going to apologize for anything, because that’s just all false. I’ve never once pretended to know everything. But let’s be honest, when someone waits most of the week to ever say anything about the title match she’s about to go in, once has to make a few assumptions. I don’t think any of the opinions I had on you are that egregious, Maria. When I see what you have to say about me each and every time, I imagine two things. Firstly, I see you writing down a bunch of ideas on post it notes and sticking them on the wall. Then you grab darts, blindfold yourself and let ‘em fly to figure out what you’ll say. And then, when that’s failing you, I imagine you dragging out a jump to conclusions mat to make you sure you finish off your less than stellar comebacks with your own strange, wild accusations. I don’t think you’ve very good at paying attention though. Maybe you’re that kid that was always talking in class. Or more likely the one that slept through all the important lectures. I take the blame for every mistake I’ve made since I came here. The Iconomy, my bad attitude and my lackluster performance in Empress of Elite. It’s not egotistical to point out that I’m different now. And you of all people should understand that.
 
One thing you should embrace is that we will be fighting each other regularly. Unless you’re leaving, I’m not going anywhere and in case you haven’t noticed, we seem to be in a lot of matches together. I don’t have a problem with it, but maybe you do. Because, speaking of egos, you seem to think I’m so far beneath you that we don’t belong I the same conversation. Maybe you’ll deny that, but that’s how it feels. I’ve learned from my mistakes, I’ve grown in my defeats and I’ve been more humble than you’ll ever understand in my wins. You don’t know a thing about me. You think you’re a survivor because you were here when things weren’t all that great for Vixens. That line of thinking is overused here. You become a survivor from your life experiences, how you handle them and how you grow from them. It’s not just about what happens in the ring, but throughout all of your life. If you are a survivor, we don’t know the real story behind why. Maybe it’s because you’re not as worthy of a championship as you believe yourself to be. I’ve never been handed a championship in my entire career. Yeah, I’ve experienced reigns before and I can tell you there’s glory when you win. And the gut wrenching feeling when you lose a belt is even worse than you could ever imagine. I don’t know why you think I don’t have my eye on the prize. Is it because I take the time to address each of my opponents? Just like you did… oh, hmm… that’s weird. Is it because I talked about the Iconomy? You must be so narrow sighted that you don’t realize I was addressing Raven Lee. You can’t question my focus on this title match, I’ve let you know my feelings on it plenty this week, all while you’ve been meditating in your bathroom or doing whatever it is you say you do when you’re trying to come up with things to say. Letting us spread our virus so you can come cure the division by becoming a champion, right? Oops, looks like I wrote that one for you.
 
I don’t have to make desperate attempts to make others look down on you, Raven. You’re doing that all your own. You’re throwing around all these random threats about tearing down the Vixens division, and then you have the gall to call me alliterate and misspell the word as you do it. Oh god, it hurts my heart to read what you have to. I swear if I’ve come to any conclusion about you this week it’s that you have a hard on for the Iconomy, you’re secretly joining them or you have one of their dicks permanently implanted in your mouth. No, you never said the Iconomy is innocent, and I didn’t accuse you of it. You came at me with these hard accusations of betrayal and all I told you was I decided to be a strong woman and stand up for what I believe in. And I owned up to the pathetic mistake I made of joining them. It’s my fault I ever got stuck in that situation. To be honest I can’t tell if you like them or dislike them, but you’ve been so personally affected by my own decision to leave that you’ve decided it needs to be the central focus of your attack on me this week. Let me make this clear, I have no quarrels with Chris or Eclipse. I have not gone around accusing them of anything. They were the only two that stood up for me when JJ came after me. Allow me to congratulate you on your 8-0 start in EAW, I guess? You didn’t just fall back a step when the EoE ended; you fell off the freaking planet. Honest to god, I didn’t know you even went here anymore when you punched your ticket for this match at Dynasty. But the more the merrier, you do you and pretend you are going to bring your chaos to this match however you can. Or is that just some analogy, too? Tell me why you would want to destroy this division when it’s as good as it has been in a long time. Is it because you sense it’s slowing leaving you behind? Are you feeling left out? You’re just one woman in a match full of talented fighters. You’re best to put your dreams of creating chaos on the shelf. No one is afraid of you and no one is buying into your darkness and soul keeping façade. I’d expect a whole lot more of the most diabolical force inside the Vixens division if I had any expectations for you at all. You feel like I insulted you as a person because I pointed out how dull you tend to be. I’m sorry that this person you’re pretending to be comes across like a cartoon character. But I’m not sorry that I won’t let you win on Saturday. The ass kicking you’ll receive this weekend won’t be magical, mystical or chaotic. It will be concise and it will be orderly, all to make sure you don’t walk out as the champion.
 
I’m glad you liked my slight tribute to you, Haruna. Although I can’t pretend it’s a style I could continue. Yes, the one time we hung out on that off week was fun, but you were always nose deep in the pages of that diary. So much so that I bought you another one for your birthday while we were there, one with all the tropical images on the front. A diary can be anything you want it to be, and it was a place where I could voice out my concerns for where the so-called obsession you have sat with me. The reason anyone believes that you are obsessed is because of that time in the gym. You basically made it sound like I single handedly light a fire under your ass. Is it true that thinking of fighting me brings the most out of your competitive spirit? Whether it’s obsession or inspiration, you cannot deny that the idea of fighting me brings something different out of you. You’ve said it yourself, you lost something when Tarah started to decline and then stepped aside. You were looking for a way to fill that void, and your eyes fell on me. It’s surprising to me that you choose to make me your rival when there are so many others that have been here longer or even prospered more. Why wouldn’t you put your focus on the Vixens champion Madison? Why not the Empress Aria or the next No. 1 contender Eris LeCava? What ever your reason for having a preference for fighting me, I encourage you to embrace that. If fighting me is what excites you the most, than that energy is what you’ll need to have the chance to become this champion. I appreciate the compliment, the flattery really, that you think I’m the most capable. I look forward to tangling with you in this match and fighting you for the third time. If I have anything to prove to anyone in this match, it is to you. If we are to be rivals someday, it’s time I show you just what I truly am capable of in that ring because a rivalry isn’t one sided. I promise you I’ll change that this weekend and find my redemption.
 
Cloud, you’re right that we don’t really have a lot to say about each other at this point. We’ve been down this road over the last few weeks both as adversaries and allies. We’ve had our chances to scout each other plenty and we’ve both been measured up by each other. The one thing I know about you is I was exactly right. From the first day you stepped into EAW I saw the energy you hard and the heart and I loved it. I knew you had a chance to do big things. It was a privilege to put you through that table because it was the most out of nowhere moment I’ve had in EAW. When I watch you fight, I’m reminded of why I love this sport over and over again. I know you’ll be busting your tail, and you expect the same from me. May the best Vixen win.
 
I have to admit this has been a fun week. Our division has so many different personalities and styles that we also have so many different deserving champions for various reasons. But I’m going to bring everything I have to this match, focused on winning that title and being a champion that this division can be proud of. I have confidence I can win not because my ego is too high or out of line, but because I believe I have everything it takes — the heart and desire and the survivor personality — I need to win this match. Anyone can win this match at Redemption, but if I was picking, I would bank on the best. And I intend to show I can be the best.