It was a bright day in Beverly Hills, California on the second day of 2017. Amelie Larrieux was walking around the kitchen of a gorgeous luxury home of her boyfriend Dane and looked at the chaos from the previous two days as she sipped at her tea. Their New Year’s celebrations had been a bit crazy and Dane and his brother had promised to clean up the mess by the time that she would be back from her next match for EAW.
 
Amelie Larrieux: Oh I have enjoyed the last few days off. But it is time to get back to the grind. It is time to keep my win streak alive.
 
Dane Hansen: Oh god… what the hell happened here?
 
Amelie turned around and smiled as her boyfriend came into the kitchen with a look of horror on his face. The Bordeaux born Amelie just stood there and shook her head.
 
Amelie Larrieux: Well you and Zane insisted on having two parties. And you’re the one who said not to worry about it that the two of you would clean everything up.
 
Dane Hansen: And we will. You just worry about your match this week and when you come back… it’s all going to be sparkling clean. I promise we won’t hire a cleaning crew.
 
Amelie Larrieux: You better not because you’re the ones that wanted to make this mess and so therefor you are going to be the ones who clean it up.
 
Dane held up his hands in a form of surrender.
 
Dane Hansen: OK… you win. I’m going to go take a shower and then I’ll take you to lunch before we got to head to the airport.
 
Amelie nods as Dane kisses her on the forehead before heading back down the hallway, leaving Amelie to head out onto the deck and take a seat in a lounge chair.
 
Amelie Larrieux: I have a lot to live up to going into this match against Tarrah Nova. I have to show everyone that it wasn’t just lucky that I won my match… my debut and first ever professional wrestling match. From what I’ve gathered… Tarrah’s tough. But I don’t think she quite knows what she’s getting herself into when she steps into that ring against me. She’s probably just another one of those idiots who only sees my platinum blonde hair and big boobs. I guess she’s jealous because she obviously doesn’t have any boobs and her skin is the same colors as Casper the Ghost.
 
Amelie takes another sip of the tea as she looks out at the Southern California skyline, the colors looking immaculate in the sky.
 
Amelie Larrieux: I honestly have no plan going into this match. Well… except for the fact that the plan is to get another win and keep this streak of mine alive. I don’t want to be one of those wrestlers that come into a company, puts on an amazing show in their first match and then quickly fizzles out before they fade to the back. I’m not gong to let that happen… I’m going to be raising up into the spotlight and nobody is going to be able to stop me… and that includes Tarrah Nova.
 
Amelie got up to her feet, leaving her almost empty cup of tea on the small table and walked over to the baclony’s railing, leaning on it a bit so that she can get that feeling of almost being able to fly… think of Rose and Jack in Titanic.
 
Amelie Larrieux: I’ve heard the way that some of the people have been talking about me… calling me cocky and a bitch. But like I said that Tarrah was jealous of my good looks… I think that they’re just jealous that they’re not in as high of a standing as I am. It’s not cockiness... its confidence. And what’s wrong with being confident?
 
A sly smirk came across the French native’s face before she turned on the balls of her feet, marching back inside as she grabbed her mug. The scene came to an end as she shut the sliding glass door behind her.

Dynasty Promo IV: #NoExcuses #NoBullSchmidt

The scene opens up to a hotel hallway where EAW Elitist Kelly Hackenschmidt stands in front of a hotel carrying a white bag full of Indian food. He wore a pair of jeans, leather jacket and beanie. With his other hand he dragged his suitcase with him. He went into his pockets and pulled out his keys and opened the door. Only for him to turn and notice the cameraman.

“Oh, hey, didn't notice you there.”

He says as he looks down to notice the bag full of Indian food and the other with his suitcase.

“I’ll be right there. Just let me get this stuff ready. After all, it's date night.”

Kelly offered a playful wink to the camera as he walked into the hotel room.
Once he returned to the camera’s view, nothing was in his hands and he had taken off his beanie. He tied his hair back into a ponytail.

“Alright, let's get this over with.”

Kelly cleared his throat, straightened his back and looked towards the camera.

“Well, I apologise for the delay, but for those of you who don't know who exactly I am, I’m Mister Pure Wrestling himself, straight outta Hamilton Ontario, Kelly Hackenschmidt! Now the day draws closer and closer to seeing myself take off against who is perhaps my most interesting opponent yet, a guy who claims himself to be a Twitter trendsetter and Hashtag Hero and whatever Schmidt makes me want to ramble, Mark Michaels! Now, for those who don't know, Michaels and I had gone to war over who was going to claim this victory over EAW. Now I must say, he doesn't seem to think that I'm still able to go the distance against him? Because it still seems as though nothing's changed. He's still making the exact same argument he made the first time. Nor do I doubt at the end of the week when we finally get the bell rung that he’ll still ramble about the exact same thing over and over again expecting different results from me. Yet he did add a little spice to it if that makes him less insane. You see Michaels, sure, I need to be prepared for loads of things. Yet he seems to forget, that the name Mister Pure Wrestling is only me adding emphasis to my own greatest two strengths of technical wrestling and high-flying. Yet that doesn't mean that I don't have my own merits. I mean, I mentioned before that I was a college dropout right? But hey want to know the difference between me and your average college dropout? Well, if you must ask. That time was spent paying off my student loan debts in Japan. Sure, there, my attitude was more arrogance than confidence yet while there, I learned exactly how to kick the right way. Yet I see what you're trying to do Michaels, and I must admit, it's pretty damn clever. You are trying to get yourself into a home field advantage by dragging a match like ours all the way out of the ring where you can scrap and brawl like the unpretty style you normally have. Yet still you call yourself a jack of all trades. A great technician and a great brawler with a clear advantage in muscle, but you still seem to forget that while an edge in a ring awareness goes even, that technical edge still seems to go straight to me.”

“Think of it this way, when you're playing Skyrim or Dragon Age or Any other RPG game, if you spread your skill set out too thin, eventually you get to a point where someone who spent his time building up what he knows he's good at and knows how to arrange a fight into his favor, eventually you see that there is nowhere to run from it. That's where I failed against Hades, I tried too hard to out muscle him and try to pull a Hercules and out muscle Hades when someone of the skillset of an Odysseus would have been the one to do the job just fine. Yet I will not be as stubborn as Leonidas and send only a fraction of my skillset like I did against him or Anthony Leonheart. Instead Michaels, you're going to get the full potential of my abilities. As far as I’m concerned Mark, you and I have already raised the bar higher than anyone in EAW has this past week, meaning that you and I are both in for a long and eventful battle that maybe not even the likes of either of us had against V. Instead, we shall see a new world of submission Wrestling, and sure, you may come very close, but in the ring you need to light on your feet and know how to wear an opponent down. Or even then, what if all the days of tension building between us isn't done with a duel such as one of Ajax and Hector but rather one swift and quick? After all, reflexes play just as much of a factor as something along the lines of endurance and dexterity. Yet that's the thing about my matches during the early weeks of my run thus far in EAW. Sure, they were against guys who people had never gotten the chance to get their feet wet. Yet one moment I would be in a headlock against one and the next I would have one either locked in The Noose or just about ready to adjust their Hackentudes. That's the thing that a man on social media seems to forget, while he made his success using his celebrity like charisma to get himself noticed; I was busy building my body up and gearing my head into the perfect wrestling icon that can turn the name Mister Pure Wrestling into less into a nickname, but rather a fact of life!”

“Michaels, once our match is through, you won't be tweeting something along the lines of Hashtag; Tough Luck. Or Hashtag; Better Luck Next time or even Hashtag; Schmidt hit the fan. But rather in my case, these fans will be tweeting something along the lines of Hashtag: No Excuses No Bullschmidt out on their Twitter bars to the point where Anthony Leonheart actually has to defend that Hot Topic belt in order to actually make himself feel relevant!”

“Yet regardless, Michaels, that's just from my end of the spectrum. That's only what I bring to this match. The Technical prowess to wear and tear your body down yet the high energy to keep these fans right at the edge of their seats, just where you want them to be when The Social Media Champion takes up against Mister Pure Wrestling! Yet Michaels, it doesn't matter how many holds of mine you can counter, I’ll still be the man of the hour! And there isn't a single Schmidt that's gonna make me quit!”

The camera fades as away as Kelly walks back into his hotel room.

FLIGHT 420---PDX-->IND

Somewhere over the useless states…

12:23 am on WEDNESDAY



The interior of a private jet. The walls are decorated in a very hip manner...like an irritating way, you know? Like...we get it, you’re “cool”, go fuck yourself.



Anyway...where was I?



Oh yeah...interior of a plane. Niki Khan sits in a single plush seat, her tiny legs resting on top of her luggage. Crumpled pieces of paper and empty coffee cups are thrown about at her feet...or, I guess, where her feet would be.



Niki looks up at her assistant Josie Grey, who walks in from the back of the plane.



Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..



…..uh….



Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz*cough*don’ttouchthatkennyitsjackieszzzzzzzzz



……….Niki….



Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz



…*clears throat* NIKI LOOKS UP AT HER ASSISTANT…



ZzzzzGAHAWHATWhoAre we going down?!



Heeeeeeeey, Sleepy head...Promo time.



Josie Grey: Ms. Khan? You told me to wake you up with any news.



ohmygodwherearewe?



We’re about twenty minutes outside of Denver.



Ew, Denver...alright, thanks for the update...nighty ni-



Ms. Khan? Would you like to discuss your match?



HA...my match...that’s good….night night, sugarplum…



Niki leans her head back, but angrily looks back up when she realizes Josie isn’t leaving. In fact, she’s waiting patiently. Niki is CLEARLY annoyed.



You are SO lucky you’re cute….and it’s illegal to stab you.



...Thank you...Um, anyway, I really think you should take a look at this match you’re in.



A[color]wwww...what a stupid fucking retarded thing to say…[/color]



....huh?...



My name isn’t purple, Sweet Ass.



...um…



Yeah...can’t get booked unless your name is purple, yaknawmean, Perky Tits? Aight, if there’s nothing else...nighty ni-



I’m...SO confused right now…



Niki sighs and sits up, grabbing Josie by the jaw and leaning her head back.



See where my name is? It’s grey. It needs to be purple and bold to mean I’m officially on the roster.



Josie just stares up at the ceiling of the plane, clearly not knowing what the hell is going on.



...Again...I’m really confused.



Oh for fucks sake, Mr. Magoo! It’s right up the-



Niki points up and then stops. Her jaw drops open and her eyes go wide. She looks shocked. Or terrified. Or really, really hungry.



WHAT THE FUCK?!? MY NAME’S PURPLE!! WHEN?! WHAT?!



...ishouldhavestayedatradioshack…



Niki shoots to her feet and starts wringing her hands, pacing back and forth up the aisle.



Ahhhhh, fuck….fuck...FUCK...fuck...FUCK…



Ms. Khan?



SHIT, man...game over, man! Game over!



Ms. Khan?



IT’S NIKI! ...only call me Ms. Khan if you’re nasty…



Fine...Niki...I don’t think you need to worry as much as you are currently doing. If you just keep a level head…



An arrow shoots by Josie’s head into the wall of the plane. Josie is shockingly unfazed.



...starting now...I think you’ll realize you’re more prepared than you expect.



You’re right, Jos...You’re right...you’re right and you’re pretty and you got a sweet ass and you’re right...Ok...what’s the match?



Ah, well, that’s another good part! It’s a tag team match!



Yay!



You and Amy Jayne will be taking on...hooooold on a seeeeeec…



Josie flips through a few pages on her clipboard before stopping a few pages deep. Her face goes from professional to “bummed.”



Yeah, I said Bummed. You wanna fight?



You can’t. I’m a fictional narrator. HA.



Anyway...Josie gets all quiet.



...oh, right…



La Diva and Bailey?



No…



...La Diva and La Chair?



Sadly, no.



...that weird Trans one and La Di-



It’s Joshi Extreme Takeover...Haruna Sakazaki and Azumi Goto…



...oh for fuck’s sake…



You just need to remember, Niki, you have had the best training on the PLANET. In the short time that I’ve known you, you’ve improved leaps and bounds...Mr. Sullivan has even been saying you’re his best pupil.



I’m his ONLY pupil…



...semantics…



Maybe it’s not so bad, though...maybe this - what’d you say her name was? Amy Jo?



Amy Jayne.



...the chick from Power Rangers?



I don’t think so...anyway, Ms. Jayne has issued a reply to the women of JET. Would you like to take a look?



Yeah, let’s do it. COMPUTER?!



……………………….



………………….do you think she means me?



...why don’t I just pull it up on my tablet?



Hold on...COMPUTER...PLAY THE AMY JO PROMO…



…………...yeah, she can go fuck herself with all that shit…………..



....hm….gotta get that fixed...ok, let’s see who I’m teaming with…



30 SECONDS LATER



I’m fucked...I’m fucked…



Josie powers down the tablet and puts it beside Niki, who grabs it and tosses it across the plane. It hits the Captain’s door and shatters into a hundred pieces.



...my niece’s dance recitals were saved on there…



I’m so fucked...WHY WOULD SOMEONE SAY TO THEIR OWN PARTNER, “STAY OUT OF MY WAY”?! What kind of retard shit is that?! No, Amy, I’m gonna step in front of you and ask for a hug every twenty seconds. Jesus Hugo Christ. I’m teaming with the world’s worst wrestler SLASH the world best house plant against two complete psychopathic douchebags!



Well, as I said before, you are MORE than well-trained for this match.



Which is why I decided DAYS ago to take this match into my OWN beautifully shaped hands.



...you literally JUST learned you have a match…



DAYS. A. GO. JO. SIE. I’m going to take Haruna’s pretty little face and smoosh it  - SMOOSH IT REAL HARD - into the mat, and then I’m gonna grab Azumi by her misshapen ass cheeks and TAKE HER TO TOWN! WOLVESDEN, MOTHERFUCKER!!



Ok! Glad to hear it, boss! I’ll book a training center so we can get to the gym straight away.



GOOD! I feel like hitting something! And smoking a blunt...and snorting a line...BUT ALSO HITTING SOMETHING!



I am simply DELIGHTED by this attitude, Ms. Khan!



ME, TOO, PERFECT PUSSY! NOW WHERE AM I GONNA BE KICKING ASS?!?



Indianapolis, Indiana!



...Ew…



Niki looks out the window as Josie simply stares.



And with that, we fade to bla-



FUCK YOU, NOSTALGIA!



…...black….

Mortimer Gotch, you got brass balls. You talk pretty tough for a guy who's height starts with 5 and weight starts with 1. I guess everyone has their own way of compensating for their "shortcomings". Something's off with all of these New Yorkers, but this one takes the cake. Which, considering his sickly frame, he should maybe be eating more of. Let me tell you one thing. Mortimer Gotch is possibly the greatest mystery in this universe. Jesus could walk through the door right now, he wouldn't even be able to explain this abomination. Here you got a manlet, smaller than my teenage son, with an ugly Rollie Fingers mustache that looks like something a teenage faggot would grow, who prides himself on being such a "nice guy". No wonder you can't find a girl. You think you've got the moral high ground because you're a "gentleman"? Well tell me this, "chappie", what on God's green earth have you done to think you're a good guy? You hold the door open for women you wanna impress? You ask "uhh, is this okay with you?" before you go in for a kiss? That ain't good, that's just being a kissass to get what you want! If that's what makes you good I don't fucking want none of it!

You already know this, but I own a church. I contribute to the spiritual growth and enlightenment of all our loyal members. My church also runs a food bank to provide the community's homeless people with, well, food. I don't smile all the time. I don't always tell the crowd what they want to hear. I stick to my guns and it don't matter if you like me or not. I could care less. But you cannot tell me that I do no good. My actions have had a concrete, positive impact on my community. You, on the other hand, are all talk and no action, in the ring and out of it. Have you ever pinned anyone decisively since arriving in EAW? All I've seen are flukey roll-up wins. Beginner's luck, I tell ya. But nobody can save you now. You step into the ring with Cody Marshall, you're stepping up to the biggest, baddest, meanest sonofabitch in this company. Your fruity "dashing dress sense" ain't gonna save you. God is on my side. The President of this great country is on my side. 6 feet 8 inches and 300 pounds of pure Texas farmer strength is on my side. What've you got? A guard dog. What a pussy! You gonna sic his fangs on me or something? Go ahead, you weak, ineffectual, privileged, effete, soft-penised debutante. You ain't gonna win anyways, might as well go out in style, rather than as a quivering, defeated mess staring up at the lights from a pool of your own blood.

Then again, you probably get off on pain. I watched your pathetic excuse of a promo, and I coulda sworn you said that the best thing about life today is how women are willing to smack you around in bed. You submissive piece of shit, you ain't fit to call yourself a man. And then you got the nerve to insinuate that I beat my wife, and to make fun of my southern heritage. Listen here, boy, I don't lay hands on women... only pipe. But I'm willing to make an exception for you, you pathetic pussy half-man. I bet you're gonna go cry in the girl's washroom after I eviscerate you. That shit's legal now. But it soon will not be. Donald Trump takes office in less than two weeks, and then and only then will America truly be Great Again. 

And I'd damn sure rather be great than "gentlemanly". So "ta-ta", vanilla midget. I'll come visit yer sorry ass in the hospital.

Depending on your view of the situation; you have the opportunity of a lifetime, Adrian. You're standing in front of the door that could open up a million possibilities. In my eyes, Adrian, you're nothing more than the unlucky lamb chosen to be guided to its slaughter, but you're so much more in your own. In your eyes, you're a man that the world should respect. You sit back and watch other around you succeed, and I'll guarantee that you believe wholeheartedly that you should be in their position. This is your opportunity to prove that you do belong in the position you crave. This is your opportunity to prove that you're more than another run of the mill Elitist with goals and aspirations that he's never going to achieve. What the one thing that separates you from everyone else, Adrian? Is it your drive? Is it your motivation to succeed? Is it your drive to prove everybody who says that you can't do it wrong? You see, Adrian, when I was in your position; still getting my feet wet in a world so much bigger than you really understand, I didn't sit around and wait for the chance to make a name for myself. The moment I was given the opportunity, I walked out in my second week in the company and slaughtered a Hall of Famer, in the form of Extreme Enigma. My second night on Dynasty after finally being called up to a main brand, I walked out and almost broke Starr Stan’s neck. What are you willing to do, Adrian? Your back is up against the wall; this is your opportunity to fight and you're standing in front of the biggest obstacle that you're ever going to meet. You can sit there and talk about the things that you've overcome, but my friend, take it from personal experience - the past doesn't set the future. You can look at every person that you've knocked down in the journey of your career, but Adrian, I want you to understand that none of them are anything like me. Nobody in this entire company is anything like me. That's your biggest mistake, Adrian. You tell me not to underestimate you, but I'm not. You have my full attention now and that's when things get scary. I have so much to prove after coming back from injury. I have the chance to reaffirm my position at the top of this company.

Have you ever watched Mike Tyson’s fight with Buster Douglas, Adrian? It's without question a night that nobody will forget. Mike Tyson was seemingly unbeatable. There wasn't a man on the planet that could survive that knockout power; when you were hit, the fight was over. Buster Douglas should have been no different; the man was beaten from pillar to post and Tyson hit the man flush. Nobody took that shot from Tyson and got back up. Buster dropped and the referee began his count. Buster got back up and he was stumbling around. Time ticked away - three, two, one and he was saved by the bell. Buster stumbled back to his corner and everyone thought that it was over; everyone thought at the start of the next round that Mike Tyson was going to slaughter the man, and that was Tyson did. Tyson got back and up thought he had the kid! He had the kid up against the ropes! But Buster Douglas didn't quit; the man got back up and Buster Douglas started fighting back. Buster Douglas knocked the man down and knocked the man out to the shock of the rest of the world. That's what you need to do on Dynasty, Adrian. You need to give me the fight of your life; you want to walk out of Dynasty with a shred of respect - you fight, and fight with every single fibre in your body! I hope and pray that you turn out to be more than what I see you for. I hope that there's actually a shred of fucking talent running through those veins, because if there isn't, Adrian, I'm going to break you piece by piece. I'm going to make sure you understand your place and that's it nowhere near the position that I stand. On Dynasty, you need to try do the same thing that Buster Douglas did, Adrian. You need to try to beat the unbeatable. You're the one man that could possibly sweep the rug from under my feet before I'm even given the chance to start moving. But, Adrian, there's a moral to this story and my friend, it isn't to help you find some piece of motivation. It's for you to understand that after everything that I put you through, unlike Buster Douglas - there isn't going to be a bell to save you.

You don't fight with everything you have to win.

You fight with everything you have to survive.

At the front office desk stood the badge of the Calgary Police Department on a banner. That desk was what the woman of long black hair with blue dyed onto the bottom walked towards. Instead of her usual punkish get up, she wore a pair of black leggings and a loose white shirt underneath her blue winter coat. She walked up to the middle aged woman at the counter.


“I’m here for the Five O'clock appointment.” Laura said as she looked down at the desk.
The woman at the counter looked up at the woman.


“Oh, you're the one with the appointment?” she asked.


“Yes. Of course.”


Laura nodded, her usual smile on her face been all but faded.


The Secretary turned to her computer and kept typing. “Alright, you're appointment is for five. It's currently.” She looked to her watch. “Four fifty five.” She turned back to Laura. “But I’m gonna need to see some identification.”


Laura opened her jacket pocket and pulled out her Legend of Zelda wallet. She pulled out a driver's license registered under the name Laura Catelyn Laine.
Date of birth reading February 5th 2016.
Gender: [/F]. A picture of her with her hair dyed black on the upper left corner.


“Very well Miss Laine. Aren't you the same Laura Laine from television?” Asked the secretary as two police officers walked in wearing the same CPD badge on their sides.


“Indeed I am.” Answered Laura as the secretary examined the driver's license. A smile came to her face.


“Well, I knew your face was familiar.” the secretary returned the smile as she handed Laura her ID back.


Laura put the driver's license back into her wallet which she put back in the jacket pocket. She walked towards the door and met with a male police officer.


“You're the five o’clock appointment?” He asked, he had a bald head with a small beard. He was tall, rather plump, yet in the uniform with a taser and handgun both attached to his utility belt, he was equally intimidating.


Laura nodded as she placed her jacket back on the coat rack. “Yep. That would be me.”


“Alright, follow me then.” He escorted Laura down the long hallway. They made the end of the hallway.
Once they made the turn to the left, Laura's smile completely vanished. She shook her head and walked straight to the third door on the left.
Inside was a room where the walls blocked off a halfway point. Over it was a black long desk and a chair, the rest of the wall being covered by glass.


The officer grabbed a chart board and read it outloud as he shut the door. “Robert Taylor Laine. Hmmm. You two seem to share a last name.”


Laura shook her head. “Unfortunately.”


“I assume you're his only known daughter?” Asked the officer.


“Unfortunately.”


“Hmm.” The officer read through the chart. “Well, it seems as though your father has ten years left on his sentence. I gotta say, I’m surprised that he only got twenty years seeing all these charges; Public Indecency, disturbing the peace, selling and usage of cocaine and heroin, domestic violence, carry of illegal knives, resisting arrest and sexual assault. Your father has quite the resume.”


“Unfortunately.” she said, starting to tear up from.


Laura took her seat, cross-legged on the plastic chair, she grabbed the phone attached to the wall.


The recreational officer approached a microphone attached to one of the side walls.


“Robert Laine your visit has arrived!”


On the other side of the glass, the door opened to reveal a man in an orange prison suit walk in. He had rather short red hair and a small scruff for a beard. He was accompanied by two other police officers with batons in their hands. He opened up the phone from the other.
“Well, Laura.” A smirk came to his face as he twiddled his fingers on the desk. “How long has it been, too long. My goodness you’ve grown? Did you dye your hair? How long has it been? Seven eight?”


“Ten years.” She sighed. Unable to look him in the eye through the plexiglass.


“Ten years?” Her father grinned more maniacally than with pride. “Ten years of being stuck in this place, having to take down my cellmate in order to make sure I don't get my ass torn open?”


“Well, to be fair, you did put it on yourself.” Laura responded quickly but quietly.


“What was that?” Robert asked, quickly offended. “Well if it weren't for some little girl calling Nine-one one I wouldn't be here now, wouldn't I? But why did you come anyway? Finally realized after chasing that crazy dream that you really are just a mistake that weighed us both down?”


Laura shook her head. “No, I came here because I thought you would have changed, ten years sober since they forbid you from finding drinking alcohol.”


Her father shook her head. “Oh Laura, so naive. Didn't you learn anything? Prison never changes shit! All it does is move you away from the problem and makes you want to squeeze onto your last problems that much more! I mean, I haven't had cocaine in ten years, what do you think I’m gonna do when I get out? More cocaine!”


“That's not what so many other former prisoners have told me.” Laura added as she looked over to the wall, unable to look her father in the eyes.


Robert’s eyebrows raised up. “Oh, so maybe that's why you came eh? Maybe you want to be like your Opponent next week and suck up to your father?” He asked.


“You guys get to watch EAW?”


“Of course. That's all the lazy ass prison guard ever watches on his little TV screen! I saw how badly you got your ass handed to you by Mei Hatsu-whatever, Asian T-X Lady. I especially Loved Your little boyfriend and his butt-buddy’s performance at that battle royal.”


“Look, Dad. That was one night and both Kelly and Finnegan are amazing! You just gotta catch a little glimpse! If I’m just worthless and you're not lazy, then explain my dominant victory the week prior?” Laura's voice raised with frustration.


“One mere Victory isn't enough to make me think otherwise. Especially not against someone who couldn't make the cut. After all I know you better than anyone. You were always scared when a situation doesn't go your way! For example, did you ever tell this… Kelly why you will probably never have children?”


Laura shivered and her eyes and mouth both opened wide. After a brief pause, she began speak. “You are just as pathetic as ever aren't you? You never took responsibility for your actions so you go ahead and blame me! It's like you had nothing to your life that had any real value until some girl you had sex with gave birth to me and stuck you with either having to pay child support or having to marry her! Is that why you abused us? Is that why you treated us like crap for a good twelve years? All because of something none of us three could control? You know, I thought some time in prison would have humbled you by now! But no, looks like it needs to turn you more into a mad man before you finally realize what you have gone through!”


Laura slammed the phone to the wall, sat back up and power walked away, slamming the door shut as the screen faded to black.


(5 Days Later).


((OOC, special thanks to Kelly for approving his part in this part of the promo))


The camera opens back up to a gym where Laura had stood by a punching bag, her punches started to get harder and harder the more she smashed the bag. The bag it self would swing around and Laura would kick the bag from both sides through her yoga pants. She eventually stopped and wrapped her arms around the punching bag to deliver multiple knees to the lower part of the punching bag, her veins ready to pop out of her neck as she pushed the punching bag back. She rose her arms up, yet something grabbed a hold of her. She felt a man’s arms.


“Baby, are you Okay?” Asked Kelly as he stood behind her. He let go of her arms.


Laura took a deep breath in and out. “I wish I could say yes.” She said as she looked up at him.


Kelly put a foot up on a bench as he wore a pair of gym shorts and an Iron Maiden t-shirt. “What has you troubled?”


Laura sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just thought meeting my father after all these years would have been a good idea.”


Kelly sat down and shook his head. “Indeed. I feel like I should have been there honestly.”


“It wouldn't have made much of a difference.” Laura was quick to answer as she sat down next to Kelly's foot.


Kelly however say back down next to her. “Don't be worry about it though. For now, try to focus on your match. You want to start the new year off right, no?”


Laura nodded, resting her head on his chest. “You're right. But the more I realize it, from what I read, my opponent and I are similar.”


“Similar?” Kelly raises a brow. “But how?”


“Well, for one, no matter how we see it; both our fathers have wronged us in some sort of way. Her father is the head of some corporation right? While yes, mine is currently serving twenty years in prison and rightfully so if you ask me. While she seems to want to prove herself worthy of being in her father's life despite being the one who had caused her misery.”


“Well, I should warn you.” Kelly's eyes were fixed on the woman he had in his arms. “Takahashi seems to be quite the talented Technical wrestler despite the normally stiff Strong Style stereotype. It could be a more interesting fight than Mei was.”


“Then that would mean our fight is a test of endurance. One to see who could last longer in a fight.” Laura added as she stood back up. “Though I feel like I have this one right where I want it. After all a technical match is something we Canadians have known best.” She stretched her arms up in the air. “Though no doubt if she is as tough as she is anticipated. I am in for a long fight.” Laura started walking back towards a treadmill.




“Ah, so you're aiming for one last run of cardio?” Kelly asked as he too stood up.


“Yep.” Laura said as she stepped onto the inactive treadmill and turned it on, she adjusted the settings to a more uphill approach.


“Alright, well, my workout is very much finished. I’m gonna grab us some grub. You feeling more for Chinese food or Indian food?” Kelly asked as he watched Laura rush through the machine.


“Indian food. Unless you can find some pad Thai.” She added, looking back towards mirror will continuing her run.


“Well, Alright. I’ll get changed and go check.” He walked towards the men’s change room. “By the way, Laura.”


“Yes, Kelly?” She asked, still having to look through a mirror to see his face.


“Whatever your father said back there, please don't take it too seriously.” Kelly said as he handed Laura a blue plastic reusable water bottle.


Laura shook her head and placed the water bottle in a cupholder. “Believe me, honey. I never do.” She said while looking straight ahead, the scene fading away as she continued her technique.

The camera opens on Pizza Boy sitting at a bar.  Judging from the glass wall of windows behind him, it's about noonish.  He stares down at his glass with a somber and tired half-slit gaze.  Barely turning his head, he glances up at the camera, gives a small nod of acknowledgement, and then goes back to staring into his poison of choice.

PB: We've been around the block a few times, you and I.  Do you think I'm a good man?

There's a moment of silence before a meek, half whispering voice emits from behind the camera.

Camera Man: A-are you talking to me?

PB: Yeah.  I mean, you're about the only one left in EAW who talks to me.  You and the AV guys.  We come here, we drink, we chat on off days.  Do you consider me a good friend?

Camera Man: Well, yeah, I mean I guess.  I haven't really ever thought of it that way.  You lash out sometimes, but usually it's for professional purposes.  You don't seem to like voyeurism, which is something I'm trying to work on.  I'm only here now because you said you wanted to cut a promo and maybe hang after.  I really try not to encroach on a professional level anymore.

PB: Calm down.  You're not on trial.  I am.

Pizza Boy lifts his glass, toasting the camera man, before putting it to his lips and taking a quick swig.  Smacking his lips, he slams the glass down on the bar, looks around blankly until his eyes meet the bartender's, before turning back to the camera man as the bartender comes over with another glass of bubbly, clear, yellowish drink.

PB: So am I a good man? As you've said, I've lashed out at you before.  I've tried to pull you in the line of fire at my most suicidal points as a competitor by bringing up your name on camera, only for you to bleep it out later.

Camera Man: Yeah, but you knew we'd edit it out.

PB: True, but it still doesn't erase the intent behind it.  

Camera Man: Like Nobi said, you're a good guy who has off days sometimes.  You do what you think is right, even if it feels wrong.  As selfish as you wish to appear as a 'nobody', you certainly go after a lot of people who wrong your friends or unjustly cheat and send the fans home angry.

PB: It's all incidental.

Camera Man: That only means that goodness is so deeply ingrained in you that you can do no wrong.  No matter how hard you try, no matter how violent you get, everything you've done in EAW as a competitor and as a human being has been comeuppance to someone whose done worse to you, the fans, or the locker room.  

PB: Do you think Ares Vendetta got what he deserved?

Camera Man:...Yes.

PB: You hesitate.

Camera Man: One of the oldest set of laws on book is Hammurabi's Code.  Even in the most basic of civilizations, the idea has always been that a punishment should fit a crime. Eye for eye, tooth for tooth. You know what I mean.

PB: OK, now you're just quoting Lemmy.

Camera Man: But Lemmy was quoting Hammurabi, just as Matthew quoted Hammurabi in the Bible.

PB: See, this is where people get it twisted.  The next line in Matthew is resist evil and turn the other cheek.

Camera Man: A man only has so many cheeks, Andrew.

Pizza Boy smirks.

PB: Four if you're really wanting to show temperance.

Camera Man: Cute.  

PB: At least someone thinks so.

Camera Man: Andy, you can beat yourself up all you want, but it's only going to make you all the more sympathetic and lawful.  Regret's good.  Learn from it, just like you learn from every loss between the ropes.  Bad men show no remorse.

PB: Neither do I.

Camera Man: Yes you do! You're sitting in a bar at 11:50 in the morning crying into your..what is that...

The camera man shoots a hand out to grab Pizza Boy's drink.  Before PB can even react, the camera man takes an audible swig behind the camera, before spitting it out off-screen.

Camera Man: This is ginger ale!

PB: Of course it is.  I mean, jeez man it's not even noon.  I'm not a lush.

Pizza Boy defensively pulls his drink back, hovering over it as his cheeks start to turn pink with embarrassment.

Camera Man: Haha.  You're a good kid, Andrew.  

PB: It doesn't feel like it.

Camera Man: The only sin you're guilty of committing is taking up a bar stool during lunch hour sipping soda pop.

PB: Aw shut up.

They both chuckle at the ridiculous of it all until Pizza Boy's gaze is hushed by the sight of the non-alcoholic gold liquid in his glass once more.

PB: Remember when I held the National Championship.

Camera Man: PB, it wasn't that long ago man.

PB: Yeah, but it changed me.  I never thought my career would be about prize fighting or fortune seeking.  I couldn't even accept it at the time.  I willfully rejected that belt for months.

Camera Man: Until someone took it away from you.

PB: Yeah...do you think it was right to throw Drake and Jones off of a ladder?

Camera Man: THEY KIDNAPPED TONY!

PB: That's not what I asked you.  The match was over, the titles were secured, but I still had to put that last nail in the coffin of that rivalry.  Good people don't do that.

Camera Man: They do when they're pushed past a certain point.

PB: No.  Not even in the face of Armageddon.  Never compromise.

Camera Man:...

PB: I didn't used to be like this.  I used to value sportsmanship over all.  I was humble, I didn't demand respect or retribution.  The Pizza Boy who walked into EAW almost two years ago would have never taken such liberties to fulfill a blood lust.  That National Championship changed me.  It made me hungry, it made me cut throat in the ring.

Camera Man: A little intensity served you well.

PB: Maybe, but...

Camera Man: Yeah?

Pizza Boy looks up from his glass and stares directly into the camera's lens with eyes wide open and full of fear.

PB: Imagine what touching that Answers Championship for just a millisecond will do.

Camera Man: PB...

PB: I saw my face in it's plate.

Camera Man: Pizza?

PB: I saw everything I'd done for it reflected back at me in a yellow hue. Every bump, every bruise, every cut and scrape.  I saw blood.  My blood.  Other people's blood

Camera Man: ANDREW!

Pizza Boy snaps out of it.  Looking ashamed once more, he hurriedly reaches for his wallet, pulls out an indistinguishable amount of dough, and slaps it on the counter as he rises to leave.

Camera Man: W-where are you going?

PB: Tell Nobi I'm sorry.

Camera Man: Should I follow you?

PB: No.  Keep that professional courtesy up.  

Camera Man: Will you at least tell me where you're going? As a friend?  I'll even cut off the camera.

PB: I'm going to have to work through some aggression issues, make sure things don't get out of hand.  I've seen what I look like when I'm motivated past a healthy point of determination.  I've seen it stare back at me through a gold colored filter.  I saw it when I won the Answer's Championship and that look, that desperation, it burned into my psyche.

Camera Man: So?

Pizza Boy freezes in his tracks.  Without turning around, he glances over his own shoulder.

PB: I just saw it staring back at me in that glass of ginger ale just now.

Camera Man: Wha-Where are you going!?!

Pizza Boy, now all the way to the door, stares back with a matter of fact look on his face.

PB: To therapy.

Pizza Boy rushes out the door, letting it swing shut behind him.  As it slams back on it's frame, the camera cuts to black.

I hate waiting. Of all the emotional hardships a person has to face, none seems to be more punishing than the simple act of waiting. When I first waltzed my happy ass right through those doors I was but a mere fledgling thinking he was hot shit right from the start, but little did I know just how much I would have to prove just get my name recognized around here. It took me months just to find my footing here. There were admittedly times in the beginning where I thought about throwing in the proverbial towel. My heart was in it, but with the remarkable amount of talent level that was on display to compete against every week, it made it hard to succeed at first. The margin for error was slim, and in the beginning I found myself simply getting out worked by all the more experienced veterans. Learning. After a while I had simply learned how to push myself harder and harder. I never completely wavered though. I persevered. It's like Winston Churchill said once. If you're going through hell, then keep going, and that's what I did. I always believed the payoff would come if I stuck it out and remained mentally strong no matter what challenges would come my way. See, I've been in the ring with all types of different opponents. Big. Small. Cunning guys. Straight forward take-no-shit kind of guys. Inferior and superior alike. Rookies. Veterans. Hall of Famers. Life is a cycle, deja vu, you've either seen it all before or you will see it several times to come. Nothing surprises me at this point - but it's how you opt to deal with them and prevent them from happening again. Learn from it what you may and engulf yourself with as much knowledge as possible so you can better yourself is my take on it all. It becomes your serenity. It's just a fact of life. Everybody grows up and goes through changes, and everyone that is fortunate enough to witness it all around you has seen it all. Change can be good. Change can sometimes mean growth, and maturity, which in the case of this elitist just so happens to hold true. You want to test yourself, see how much you want it? This elitist knows he does, and this Saturday on Showdown against the Hall of Famer, Tyler Parker, this elitist gets to show just that to the whole world watching. So yeah, I can’t wait. I can't wait, because on Showdown i get to set the stage for the way this year, 2017, is going to be. It's going to be different from the last, that much I can tell you all with absolute certainty win or lose. Many alterations are still to come, and not all of them may be as they would seem either. Why would they be? I mean think about it. If the devil decided to run for President, do you think he/she would put on their horns and a wicked grin, or a suit with an angelic smile? If the wicked witch stayed green and ugly, would she have been able to give Snow White a poisoned apple? And if the Big Bad Wolf had not disguised himself as an old granny, would he have been able to lure Little Red Riding Hood into the house to eat her? And if a drug dealer wanted to seduce some school kids to get on his drugs, would he act like a greedy businessman — or a caring friend? Salt and sugar look exactly the same but taste very different. We live in a world of illusions, one filled with Luciferians acting like righteous men, and righteous men condemned as criminals. Maybe Tyler Parker now holds resentment towards Pizza Boy rather than respects him. However, I do digress, for there is much anticipation I will admit to having for a match like this. This is a match I will take just as serious as all the others. This is a match I will take much stock in, because I know it's another great opportunity to show everyone else just exactly what I'm capable of, and why the future is bright for this elitist.

Because the future is now.

It takes just a step to show the other side of you that you never wanted to show. It takes just a word to start the words you never wanted to say. It all begins with something and it all starts somewhere.  Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. I know my words will come as no shock to someone like Tyler Parker. A man like Parker thrives on a challenge just like I do. I think I threw down my argument pretty well yesterday when I made it quite clear that everything I do and say this week will count as nothing less than first rate while everything Tyler does by comparison will simply be second rate. I throw down challenges different depending on the opponent, and with Parker he's a pretty straight shooter so what I say now and what I'll do later will fall in sync with each other. I'm not leaving Kansas City, Missouri without having gone through absolute hell and back, this I'm very aware of. I have no false illusions about how big of a challenge this will be, and certainly not of anything Parker is capable of doing to ensure victory for himself. I expect it, and that is part of the anticipation for such a matchup. Tyler Parker has ended careers before, and really hope he's willing to go that far with me, because I'm not going into this half-cocked by any means. I won't be taking one single second of that match, nor a solitary moment for granted. Those fans that have been cheering me in recent weeks will become almost invisible and nonexistent once that bell rings. All it will be for me is Tyler Parker and a ring. I don't care how long it takes or what I have to do, but I will defeat Tyler Parker. I will not let Tyler Parker take this moment from me. Not as other Hall Of Famers such as DEDEDE and Devan Dubian did when I was given an opportunity to shine before. This time is going to be different and there ain't a single move or calculated plan that he will try, TRY to put into fruition that Tyler will be able execute to beat me. I once upon of time told a man that went by the name Piff Fumador before our Cash In The Vault qualifying match last season that the only way he was going to qualify for that match was to kill me. He could not do it. This was a man that was not even close to being half the man that Tyler Parker is, but I used that instance as an example to show how seriously I take opportunities like this. I'm sure Tyler Parker has a great chance to get the job done if put to the task of ending me, but even if I did he wouldn't be able to get the job done because I just don't stay down, and I most certainly won't go away. I've proven that I can hang with any competitor on this roster, but that's never been good enough for me. I continuously push myself to reach greater heights all the time. A loss here and there can never faze me, and I don't let a single win go to my head anymore. It’s all just making me that much bigger, better, and stronger. This will be proven as being nothing short of the truth this Saturday on Showdown, mark my words.

If a beating is what I'm in for, then so be it. I'll wrestle Tyler Parker. I'll brawl against Tyler Parker if need be. I've really got no preference when it comes to Tyler because I know he'll be doing everything he can to advance just as he did at Road To Redemption in that Extreme Elimination Chamber to almost walk out as the New Answers World Champion. He always brings everything he's got, but this time will be different. This time Tyler Parker will be matched blow for blow, move for move. I hate the waiting, but I love the anticipation, and in a few days that will all be behind me and all that's left is a fight. Not for bragging rights, but for something more. I've overcome one man before many times. I've overcome many, and Tyler Parker is no ordinary man, but overcome him I will. I've been willing to put myself through hell in the past and I'm ready to do it again this Saturday. I’ve overcome being thrown from ladders. Tyler Parker I can overcome. I’ve overcome putting myself through flaming tables to take out the competition. Tyler Parker I can overcome. I’ve had to overcome fighting for my career before. Tyler Parker I can overcome. I’ve overcome so many near-triumphs that could’ve deflated most guys egos. A match against Tyler Parker I can overcome. Tyler Parker, I will overcome you.

Dynasty Promo #3




 
(The scene opens at the National Mall in Washington, D.C.,it's here that we find EAW's Social Media Champion, "Picture Perfect" Mark Michaels, strolling alongside the reflecting pool with the Washington monument monument hanging over the background, his coat opened just enough to reveal his black 'Even my haters like me." T-shirt.  Michaels pauses about midway down the path alongside the water, and gazes deeply into it.)
 
Michaels: "You know something, when I look at this whole area and see everything laid out in just the perfect space. It really makes me stop and think, not just about the countless men and women who these memorials have been erected in honor of. But also of the craftsmen who's skill and talents came together beautifully to make this majestic lay out.  That they had planned, and crafted all of this to come together in this way, it really is something to appreciate.
 
It all kind of  reminds me men like myself, and Kelly Hackenschmidt, in that we are to experts at our craft who each can plan a work of both beauty and purpose in our minds, and see it thru to its completion and leave a body of work  that the entire world can look at and enjoy. Indeed in that regard you won't find another better at it than myself and Kelly. Not on Dynasty and probably not within the entire EAW roster. But while Kelly has already developed into a damn fine wrestler, he still has a thing or two that he can learn, if only he would clean whatever is in his ears that keeps him from understanding what I'm trying to say to him.
 
Like for instance, I've been telling him that he needs to be the most versatile man in the company if he hopes to be one if EAW's success stories, and not one of its flops. He has to be prepared for any change in tactics that his opponent might throw at him. For instance if he's able to work over one of the brutes who compete here like Cody Marshal, or Scott Oasis, and that guy decides to toss the rule book by the wayside, Mr.  Pure Wrestling might find himself in some trouble. And I know that Kelly has that ‘how you play the game mentality’, and we all love him for it, but trust me kid, winning will be what determines who get to face Drake Jaeger, never mind when your actually in that interwire title match, and he decides to take a cheap way out.
 
But all that is can take a back seat for a minute, because you talk about raising the bar, and elevating the sport of professional wrestling, I'll tell you what jack take my advice and become the jack of all trades that I am, and evolution will have arrived. Because in today's Elite Answers Wrestling, you can't rest on the laurels of being just a great technician, or high flyer, or even just a power house, or a brawler. You have to be able to meet your opponent at every twist and turn that comes in a match. So yeah you might be one of, if not the best mat wrestlers in EAW today, but what good will it do you when I'm standing overtop of you pouring down shot after shot to the skull?  And what good would all the high fly stuff do you when a catch you with the screen cracker in mid-air?  
 
This is what I'm talking about. Your opponent is riddle, or problem if you will, and you have to be able to solve it and all the variables it brings. Otherwise you end up getting smacked around till your left staring at the lights while your opponent gets his hand raised.  Right now as it stand, I got you figured out Perfectly.  I know exactly how your gonna come after me, and trust me I’ll be more than ready.  Question is how do you figure out someone like me?  Someone who can one moment pick you a part and keep you on the mat with any number of locks, sweeps, and holds.  And the next be pummeling you into submission.  The guy who knows how to use the ring as a weapon, and know just how far he can go before getting disqualified.  The Guy who can plant you into the canvas with a HUGE spinebuster, and the next come off the top with a throat crushing leg drop off the top rope.  I’ll tell you right now Kelly that there is no answer for that kind of athlete.  One who has devoted his life to learning every kind of wrestling style that is known to man.  And worked himself to the bone in order to master each one, and earned himself the title of Picture Perfect. 
 
And in doing so has earned the respect of not only his allies, and his fans, but his opponents as well.  The man whose performances in the ring have garnered him a following of fans who have made him an Instagram Icon, a Twitter Trendsetter, and a Hashtag Hero to the good people here in Washington, and every other place the whole world round.  People who with their support motivate me week in and week out, twenty four seven, three sixty five.  I am humbled and honored to represent them as their Social Media Champion! 
 
So Kelly get ready, because the Schmidt may just hit the fan after I kick you square in the ass this Friday night.  When that bell rings in the Verizon Center, you are gonna learn firsthand just why I told you time and again that you have got to be ready for anything and everything.  Because when that bell rings, you’re gonna get everything AND the kitchen sink.  And after it’s all said and done, maybe you’ll try just listening to my advice next time.  Schools about to be in session, and your Professor for this one is named Mark Michaels, and he is gonna give you a lesson you aint ever gonna forget.  Sho why don’t you and your little friends go ahead and Picture That!”
 
(With that Michaels resumes walking alongside the pool, and out of the shot.)
 

Fade To Black. 

No one ever thought I would be here. No one thought that I would make it this far, no one except for me. When my parents died when I was younger everyone though I would be traumatized for life. When I was a youngster in school getting into fights every other day everyone thought I would be in an out of prison. When I decided to become a professional wrestler no one thought I would make it big, but I became a world champion less than a month after starting my career. All I ever do is defy expectations. I’ve continuously hit glass ceiling after glass ceiling my entire life and every time I hit one I shatter through it like a rocket. I have never walked into a room and been the biggest person in it, but that has never mattered. I’ve beaten 7 foot guys, I’ve beaten 300 pound guys, I’ve beaten legends, and I’ve beaten deranged lunatics. I haven’t come up against a challenge yet that I can’t overcome. I’ve worked my ass off to make the name Adrian Christ a household name. I have only competed against a handful of people here in EAW before my return last September, but most everyone knew who I was. You see… I should be getting handed opportunities based on who I am alone, but I’m out there fighting every Friday night for anything that I can get because that’s who I am. Despite all of that though I continuously get disrespected. I was disrespected by Monroe when he wouldn’t give me an opponent to fight for 3 weeks despite me being healthy. I was disrespected by James Knight when I was trying to boost his career by give him an opportunity to face someone as great as me, but he just said I wasn’t worthy of his time. Speaking of which if he ever shows his face again I’ll destroy him faster than I did Azrael. I was disrespected when I wasn’t put into the King of Elite tournament despite losers like Anthony Leonhart getting in. I was disrespected by Xavier Williams just a few days ago when despite us having a match on Dynasty he barely mentioned me. Apparently sneaking up behind DEDEDE and attacking him while his guard is down takes all of his time. I’ll give you this warning one time and one time only Xavier, do not underestimate me. I’ve made a career out of beating people that underestimate me, and I don’t care if you are a legend or not. I’ve already beaten one EAW Legend and I have no problem making it two. You think me a lamb being led to its slaughter, but I am not the lamb, I am the butcher. Come Friday Night, I'll prove it.

Funny, my journey towards King of Elite begins with a man who didn’t believe I should be in this business in the first place, the very man I had put in retirement just so I wouldn’t be stripped from ever competing for championship gold. Not that people seem to obey the rules of retirement around these parts, seeing as the man still takes the revolving door in and out of this business whenever he pleases these days.

Isn’t that right Kevin Devastation?

2014 was my debut year that I ended with taking you out of this company, and 2016 will be my most famous year starting by eliminating you from this tournament. I look at this as a return to roots, finding myself again after a recent string of setbacks. I’m not talking about being clean, I’m talking about the groove that had me rocking the world! But to get one thing straight, ain’t nothing changed with me fighting corrupt figures, have you not seen how badly our GM has been trying to hold me back? Saving his boy Ares from having to defend his title against me one on one after I pinned his ass to the mat in singles contest? Too bad Ares still lost it to someone else. You don’t know the shit I’ve been through, you and Cleopatra were just the beginning. So don’t talk to me about how I should be straight laced, when I live in world where if I even take a second to bend down to tie the laces of my Onitsuka Tigers I’ll have some trifling ass goon trying to treat it like I bent down for the fucking guillotine. Nah, I’m too slick for that Kevin. I look at you and all I see is someone trying to cheat someone, and I don’t care who. It could be you’re trying to deceive me, it could be that you’re trying to pull one over these fans, or worse yet maybe you’ve sunk so low you’re trying to con your damn self! It’s a hard sell, not even you deep down believe that you can be an upstanding citizen, and let’s be honest…………these people will never like you Kevin. You got the game twisted, what you should have learned from what I did to you wasn’t that you should drop the corruption game, it was that you should of put your money on me, instead of TLA in his voodoo phase and the rest of the spook spook squad filled with names that both of us have forgotten under your wing at the time.

“A man is only worth his weight on this planet by what he can do to help other people”……one of your most famous moments in history is you getting a phone call about some relative of yours in the hospital after some tragic incident and you saying you’d be right there for them…..after you whoop some ass at Pain for Pride. If you ever were the man, you sure as hell weren’t the man by doing good. I may be young, but I don’t have the years it would take to list your many atrocities that became the textbook for “kids” like me to study from and built off of to write new chapters.  I won’t even bother acting like I have to tell the tales.

I rather spend time asking, why are you trying to sell snake oil to a Komodo dragon? You think that a reptile can’t sense the presence of another? We have a few things in common, old man. We’re both cold blooded, we’re both tough skinned motherfuckers that shed our skin when it’s time to change the game, and we’re both people nobody wants to get bitten by. What’s the difference? Well Komodo dragons stand on their legs and are rare beasts, while snakes like you are common and slither on the ground without dignity. Even the billion dollars you got can’t find you hoes that lie on their stomach and do the dirty on the natural level snakes do! What’s so kingly about that? What’s kingly about moving like a worm? Snakes, like worms, even get eaten up by certain wondering birds. But what hunts the dragon? Nothing. A Komodo is at the top of it’s food chain. That’s supreme authority.

That’s being a king.