They try to convince me that time is linear.

So why does time feel like a revolving door? It's as though the same song and dance reverberates through a time and space continuum, and rebounds from the edge of existence until it travels back to you and you experience it all again. The past life becomes the present life, and your future is the same as your past.

But despite it all perhaps time is linear after all, because though so much has remained the same over the years, things have also drastically changed. And I'm soon to revisit a chapter in my life I thought was once settled as I prepare to take this last dance with a man I know all too well. He is the archetypal trope for why we must all know when to leave good enough alone. And his career, having regressed despite passing through the revolving door of time, has lead him right back into the ring with his maker. I'm talking about his God. I'm talking about me. Because I've made the Heart Break Boy everything he is by proving to be everything he's not. While he'd soil his legacy with every disappointing run and desperate grabs for attention he calls "retirements", I would continue to live up to the precedence that I've so emphatically set. While he's burned just about every last bridge, I've established greater esteem in every new frontier that I find, so much so that in every room I enter I command reverence. While the pretentious, pompous, sometimes hedonistic and sometimes pious over the hill piece of trash continues to soil his own legacy, I've redefined the word "greatness", so much so that the very word itself is now beneath me.

"Greatest of all time".

You can have that title HBB. You can tattoo that on your forehead, you can wear it on your assless chaps, you can write it on your fucking grave. I don't need to be called the greatest of all time by you. I know I'm the greatest of all time, it's redundant, it's not aptly titled, it doesn't properly suit me. To be the GOAT is a relative concept, here today and gone in linear time. One person's the GOAT, then the next person's the GOAT, until that person fades from public memory and the next name becomes undeservedly hyped beyond belief and is given that spot, devaluing it further. And it's not even a semblance of worthy criteria. It's all subjective, it's all opinion, it's culture, it's collective preference, it's a matter of taste, it's who's matches entertain you more, it's what your friends like, it's what gets the most retweets and likes, it's who's who evokes the most laughter, the most memes, the most popularity, the most traffic on social media, it's who moves the most merchandise, who's the biggest draw, it's who's more popular among the fans. And the answer once upon a time, HBB, was always you! Once ago, over half a decade ago, you were the one put in that slot, and you made sure that it were at my expense because in your mind, nobody deserved to be called the greatest besides you. 

Now you're not even in the discussion.

And you never will be, because you don't deserve to be. You said it best, I've been consistent, but you forgot to mention that so have you. You've consistently failed. Being the greatest of all time is not in your DNA. You aren't built for "all time", you aren't endowed for eternal glory. You come with an expiration date and you've clearly over staid your welcome. You're damaged goods years past it's warranty. Your genetics have failed you. Your body, your spirit, your faith has failed you. You have failed everyone who has ever believed in you even close to as much as you believe this lie you tell yourself, and winning the Hall of Fame Championship is not going to be your resurrection, I hope you know that. What people see when they see you is the man who was once admired by Dark Demon, who retired CM Banks, who felt big enough to Edge God Out and has now been edged out of the conversation of the greatest. You went from reigning sovereign to the sympathetic figure. Nobody wants to "be" you anymore. Nobody wants your spot, if anything your light has been eclipse by not just me but by so many others that it's a wonder how your light hasn't just burned out. Your name is etched out. It's not even a debate anymore, you just sound ridiculous, because your fall from grace has been one for the books, and your name is no longer in the book of life. I've blotted you out like the God I am, because I can. You're stuck in the past, in a time and place where you were for all intents and purposes once the greatest! Now you have one great match every 12 months average. But you were never the greatest of all time. Just that time five years ago, just that window in your career, where you were untouchable and you could do no wrong. But here we are, in the now, in the present. In my present form, I'm a God, and that means more than the group-shared endorsement of "greatest of all time." I've always been the most revered, no one has an effect on their opponents the way that I do and that's widely documented. But now I'm the greatest that I've ever been, and that's better than anything you could ever hope to be. Don't believe me? Take Sheridan's word for it, after all she didn't get even two moves on me. I completely decimated her and hardly broke a sweat, despite what you may have imagined. The 2016 Elitist of the Year, Ares Vendetta, had a much more rough time with her, but she crumbled before me just like you'll crumble before me because I'm on so much of a different level now than any of you could ever hope to be. Still not convinced? Ask Devan Dubian, the man who had no feasible way of defeating me until Scott Oasis got himself involved and cost me my Hall of Fame title. I don't know if you've been watching my career out of that fucked up eye of yours and not your good one, but you clearly have no idea how much I've evolved. I guess it takes a blind man to speak with such unabating delusion, because you've been living in a false reality for far too long, and I'm going to reintroduce you to the real one. The real world. My world. The world you inhabit, the Godless world - because the God you pray too doesn't exist in this world. Not in this land of Extreme, Elite, Merchants, Beasts. Not in this hedonistic hellhole of nihilism and lust for success where men and women are willing to exchange their soul for riches. You don't even belong here in the thick of it, you belong in your hospital bed having your hand held by your daughters.

At some point in every man's life he is presented before him a blue pill and a red pill. You clearly have that blue pill with your breakfast every morning before you leave the house. You live in your bullshit dreamworld and you love it there, but that doesn't apply to being in the ring with me. The last time we faced in singles action, I gave you a much needed reality check, and I ushered in the era of Methuselah while edging out Project EGO, no pun intended. That's what happen when God meets the nonbeliever. It's the answer to the question in that song, "what's a god to a nonbeliever". The answer is #StillGod. What's a nonbeliever to a humbled man? A reflection of the humbled man's past. And from what literature has told us, an encounter with God is a wake up call like no other, well Friday night in the ring you're meeting him. You're meeting him in front of everyone you've ever known and loved. On judgment day every knee shall bow, every tongue shall confess, and you too will kneel before me by will or by force and concede to my divine right as the undisputed number one competitor in the history of this company. There's nothing you can do or say to change it, and you know it. So by all means, enjoy the daze you roam the earth in each day, because you are in for a very real moment of clarity where you'll be completely conscious and aware to your weakness and frailty, and you'll be matched at every turn just like you were in every battle we've had before. Except this time, I'll emerge with a resounding victory. I'll move forward, and mark my words, I'll never subject you through this same old song and dance of Methuselah proving his superiority over you. You are free after this to return to your revolving door, left to your own devices, returning to that dream state from whence you came. 

While I continue my ascent.

♚Tiberius IV adorned with his civic crown is seen amongst his loyal subjects speaking to the camera towards what he sees as riffraff known as the EAW audience and locker room. ♚

To truly rule in a way to fan the burning flames of hope amongst your people, one must live in excess.

I don’t even need to ask management to kiss the ring, they give an overabundance of worship even I would not expect. For months, I have gone by Tiberius IV without incident, but for some reason for the last two weeks they’ve decide to promote me as “King Tiberius IV”, my IV already signifies my royal status, but they have decided to flatter me further. Personally, I think it is rather tacky and long winded, I would just called myself King Jones or King Tiberius if not for the IV, but I appreciate the fact that they get idea that I should be showered with plenitudes of respect, wealth, and favour.

My dissenting subjects, my enemies, would not know the feeling.

Look at my foes. They live a life of nothing but limitations, and desperation echoes in each frenzied reach out towards the finer things in life that they make, be it reaching for opportunity, gold, or just a floating device to keep themselves from drowning in their ineptitude. Look at how they pathetically clamor to vie for their positioning in a match so they can be the last entrant in the Grand Rampage, they feverously want to have the best spot in the Grand Rampage because if they don’t win it…some of them are not sure if they will have another world title opportunity in the Pain for Pride season……some of them don’t even know if they’ll make it onto the Pain for Pride show at all.

But I am like none other.

If I so decree it, I have a world championship opportunity at Pain for Pride through the power vested in my by the crown!

Tell me my defiant subjects, the Nobi nobodies, do you not see the horizons I am reaching?

I stand alone as the one being in this entire company who could have TWO WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP SHOTS AT PAIN FOR PRIDE!

I can use my Grand Rampage victory for a championship on one night, take a nap for rest, and then another night use my King of Elite status for my second world title to become the first man to wield multiple world championships at the same time!
♚IV is interrupted by a crying woman in his subjects.♚

Crying woman: But why must you then take and produce when these men who have so little beg for attention my king!?

IV{with a huge sarcastic grin}: This is trickle down eliteonomics, Marxists especially take notes, when the wealthy prosper it showers down onto the masses below! Think about it when I won King of Elite it granted Showdown the king, can these men guarantee to bring the Grand Rampage spoils to Showdown? I do not think so, only I can be trusted for this task, and why the number 30 spot must be utilized by the only one who can get the job done.

I do not even need to list each individual off separately, they share this interchangeable level of stupidity and baseless assertions that prove their inability to be worthy of serious consideration to represent this brand.

Some of them cry foul about happenings in the tournament I was crowned king, apparently, it was “tainted” for no other explanation that they are bitter about how early they were eliminated. And yet, I bet such people would swear up and down that I am the bad sport, that I do not carry myself with proper conduct, yet they make excuses and tirades for their losses. They take losses on the chin they say, while still having gripes about failures months later, yet I am the one terrified of accepting defeats…..true projection. If not for Drastik and his depression, I would have to crown the biggest sore losers all those in this match who failed to become king.

Others reference Hexa-gun, and say what they see is a poor version. Baffling. Hexa-gun was a force to fight the entire company and maintain the way of extreme in a multi brand war that in total on and off required 8 members, The King’s Guard is a more humble set of three people to serve my king motif and reap the rewards they get from being with the king. This is apple and oranges, but it is no surprise my foes cannot tell fruits apart, since they never gain any from their labour.

And then there are those who complain that I did not “earn” my position as king. It’s as if these people don’t know what King of Elite is, the only set of conditions to be worthy of king is to win the tournament. Even so, even if I were to give into the logic that one must go through the tournament properly, I won the entire tournament, including the final triple threat main event, without allies at my side. Even the staunchest by the book players in the game have no complaints of honour they can levy for my conduct towards obtaining the crown, but these men will pretend I acted under foul play without evidence and then be surprised when I do no take them seriously when they insist on calling me by my commoner name. Why should I show “respect” to those without achievement, when they cannot bring themselves to respect an achievement that directly grants me what they refuse to acknowledge?

The fact of the matter is, I am the one who takes the lion’s share of the goods in this den, and the rest of you cubs feed on what I leave behind for you. Luckily for you, my hunting prowess decides the quality of the leftovers that you all nimble on to fill your starving bellies. You hate me, when you should be thanking me, to be a serf on Showdown is much greater than to be a peasant in the wastelands of Dynasty and Voltage, all because of how flourishing I have made this brand. You are all small fish, but you can tell all your fishy friends that you were in a very large pond and had a shark there to top it all off! Ah yes, you will all likely face defeat come Showdown, much like you will at the Grand Rampage, but because I was there at least the entire world will be watching a contest you perform in. Learn to take solace in your small blessings, it is all you’ll ever get.

♚Satisfied, IV nods, and the camera fades to black. ♚

EXT. DOUBLE CROSS RANCH - EVENING

Gambit herds the pigs back into the pen. It’s been a long day of work, and he’s wearing his favorite shirt, although it’s dirty from working the fields all day…



Ellie rolls the hay into the pasture, enough to last the cattle for the night.

GAMBIT
Some people define insanity as doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results. 

Some people also call that hope.

You see, I am a man who followed the rules, I plowed fields, I grew vegetables, I raised cattle, all for the benefit of others.

I was told I would be compensated handsomely.
They said “I’d get government subsidies”.

But they never came.

When I was a kid in school, my teachers told me that hard work paid off.
That I could be anything. I could be president, I could be an astronaut, and my time would come.

But it never came.

I was told it was morning in America.
Let the good times, roll.

But the good times never came.

I have slaved since I was a kid, and now I’m staring down the barrel of middle age wondering why it never appeared.

What did I do wrong?

Why is the man down the block driving a new car, while I’m up to my eyeballs in debt?

Well those worries are soon going away, because the EAW gave me a contract.
They gave me an opportunity.

You think I’m going let a bunch of sissy college kids jeopardize my shot?

When you have nothing, there’s nothing you have to lose.

That’s why on last week’s DYNASTY, I took an ass kicking and kept on ticking. Hell, management threw a curve ball into the mix, by having me face an opponent that I didn’t even prepare for. 

How is a man expected to make a living, when he’s involved in a bait and switch?
Is that fair?

Now I get the sense that I’m rocking the boat too much. Some people say I have a bad attitude, some say that I’m different.

I agree with them, I am different. That’s why they hate me.

Let me quote Stew-O…. “I have my gripes about his attitude.” 

They hate me because I’m the real deal. 
I’m double tough.
And they’re not.

Some people spend all day at the gym… well that’s just another way we’re different. 

LIFE IS MY GYM. I work on the fields, doing things none of these kids would do. I don’t give a damn  how many abs you have, how crisp your squats are, or how low your body fat is. 

I proved that in my match. This WAS my coming out party, and boy, it was a thing of beauty.

SPEAKING OF BEAUTIES…

Brody Sparks talks about being an onion, well let me tell you something cupcake… I’m the onion around here. My layers are deep, and soon it’ll be revealed, and I may smell bad and I may tingle your nosehairs, but at the end of the day, that don’t matter around here. 

Not unless we’re broadcasting in SMELL-O-VISION.

Brody, I grew up harvesting onions, and they can be sweet when they get hot. I’m an open kind of man, and so is Ellie, so if you want some real life experience, you know who to call.

Let this be a lesson to any man or woman in this place.

The tide is changing. 
If you and I go head to head, I'm coming for your spot.

If you rely on tired mindsets, a victory over me will never come.

And you can quote that, bitch.

VOLTAGE

Man it has been quite the week hasn't it? Couldn't have gone any better for me. This week on Voltage I proved that Nasir's victory over me a couple of weeks ago on Voltage was just a little hiccup and nothing has changed in my quest to be the very best here on Voltage. I went out there and not only completely dominated J.D. Damon but his career might be over now so that adds him to a long list of names of careers I have ended who got in my way. Grand Rampage is approaching fast and it is going to be the opposite of what happened to me last year and that is my number 1 goal. It doesn't look like J.D. Damon will be making it to Grand Rampage but I sure as hell am and now that my momentum is built up I do not have any intentions on slowing down and it continues this next coming week on Voltage.

What? The Chef? Fucking what? This proves exactly my point over the past few months when I say EAW will just hire anybody these days off the street because they have a personality and no in ring talent. There are talented guys who deserve a shot in the Land Of Elite but they're opportunities are given to guys like Nasir and this guy The Chef. I mean is this guy even a trained wrestler? The guy looks out of shape, doesn't know a wristlock from a wristwatch, and overall just a clown. This next coming week on Voltage is once again will be wasting God's Gift to Wrestling's talents away 1 more week by being in the ring with this idiot, but at the same time I get to build some more momentum up and also once again trimming the fat off of this Voltage roster. I have been trimming the fat ever since I made my Voltage debut and this Chef guy will be gone come Sunday morning. Chef, you don't believe anything I say? Ask AJ Perez, JJ Silva, J.D. Damon and many others. Chef, you are green, stupid, not even a trained athlete and you think you can even last 30 seconds in that ring with me? Did you not watch what I did to Damon last week? the thing between you and Damon is Damon had talent. I said HAD if you did not notice because when he first debuted he had crazy amounts of talent and potential in him but he has been on a SERIOUS decline and it came to the point where he was just overstaying his welcome and last week I did what I had to do and trimmed some more fat. You, Chef, I could just place you between my index finger and my thumb and just squash you in a matter of seconds. That is not an opinion, it is a stone cold hard fact! If you were smart Chef, you would lie down in the ring before anything bad happens to you. And also by the way, when this is all over with and you are out of this business, if I ever go out to eat and you turn out to be the owner, I won't resist to spit my food out and criticize the chef, because you said you would take anybody out back if they have a problem with it, well I would fucking DARE YOU! Because I ended your in ring career, and I wouldn't have a problem ending your culinary career as well. Here's one piece of advice heading in to our match on Voltage...don't test me. Don't go in there throwing rights at me thinking you have a shot because that only wants me to paralyze you for the rest of your life. That is the number 1 thing you need to know...don't fucking test me. Like I said, it's better if you just lie down and save yourself. By the way, even if you do lay down, I will take you out so either way this Sunday, you're fucking screwed pal.

Grand Rampage is full of many talented competitors, but there is only 1 God's Gift To Wrestling!

(Cameras unravel in St. Louis, Missouri, the hometown of the Heart Break Boy, as he approaches a local tattoo shop while fans swarm him with excitement while he approaches inside the shop. As the Heart Break Boy steps inside with his Hall of Fame Championship belt on his shoulder, the manager of the shop quickly spots him and turns him around to speak.)

Manager: Wow! The Heart Break Boy! It's a pleasure to meet you! 

HBB: It's my pleasure. 

Manager: What brings you here, sir? 

HBB: What you mean? I'm looking to get tatted up. I need to add something on my wrist. You know, something very symbolic to my life and passion. 

(The Manager swiftly closes the door then locks it behind HBB to avoid all of the fans trying to bully themselves into the shop to see the EAW Hall of Fame Champion.)

Manager: You are surely an hometown favorite here. And you know what? Since you're representing us proudly, I'll like to give you that wrist tattoo, free of charge. How do you like the sound of that?

HBB: Thank you but no thank you. I didn't come here with all these dollar bills in my pocket for no reason. (HBB takes out a stack of money and places it on the counter)

Manager: Woah! I haven't seen money like this in a day of my life. Wow... What are you trying to get on your wrist?

HBB: Hmmmm... That's a good question. Something that signifies me the most. Something that has been entertained by the world for years. Something that I truly am. 


G.O.A.T.

Manager: The Greatest of All Times, huh? That is indeed a perfect tattoo for you. Follow me into the room, we will get ya started. 

(The Heart Break Boy follows the manager inside the room as he places his Hall of Fame Championship belt on the table while walking inside. He then takes a seat while the tattoo artist prepares himself to draw up "G.O.A.T." on the Heart Break Boy's wrist.)

Tattoo Artist: Can I ask you a question, HBB? 

HBB: Sure.

Tattoo Artist: Of all the years in the wrestling industry, why are you just now getting this tat on you?

HBB: Because it wasn't the time yet. Now it is. About five or six years ago you see, I defeated a man to become G.O.A.T. I have embarrassed him and left him in the mud. I was supposed to retire that man but he returned. He returned when his time had already ran out. He returned when he's absolutely not the same guy that I had faced years ago. He's the guy that goes by the name, Mr. DEDEDE but when he's finished eating all of the girls cat backstage to grow chin hairs and a beard, he calls himself Methuselah. You know? The man that uses fortunetellers and blow up dolls to let him know if he's still relevant or not.

Tattoo Artist: Ouch, why so harsh, HBB? He's another legend like you.

HBB: Honestly not. I don't struggle to defeat a woman named Sheridan Muller. I don't refuse to quit after being beaten by one of the most lackadaisical champions in history named Devan Dubian. I most definitely place myself on a higher standard than going after the Interwire Championship when I have been in this industry for years. You see, just like myself, everyone looks up to this supposed bearded man, maybe even more people follow him because of his natural consistency in this business. However, what kind of role model backpedals and erases everything that he has fought for? I'm not proud of getting his tattoo because I simply don't need it to show everyone why I am the absolute greatest. But considering we have guys like him that believes and wishes he were "Greatest of All Times,"  I have a very valid reason for inking these initials and while I'm slapping him upside his head like I will do to him in my hometown of St. Louis, he will see these letters spark in his face of what he used to be but now it's me. I haven't seen Methuselah at his very best in our recent encounters. At Road to Redemption, he was an complete no show, representing legends and Hall of Famers in the wrong way as possible. Even for a guy that is currently placed in the garbage can along with the rest of EAW rejects like Lucian Black called him out. And if you think that wasn't enough, the EAW Hall of Fame Championship was treated like shit when this guy was holding the title. He didn't have any integrity, honor or respect to even call himself an Hall of Famer. I'm just here to expose him and show the world that I am the true definition of this company. I am the heart. The soul and the mastermind that captures and really took a place like Dynasty on my back in the year of 2011 when I retired him just like I did to the man that defeated him right afterwards, CM Banks. People have forgotten all about the amount of scores that led my automation onto good grounds. Maybe it's because I was just like Methuselah -- a man staring in the mirror, not knowing what to do, just going with the flow with no type of aggression or audacity to know that I can take over any time I chose to. The pressure is all on me. I'm in my hometown, I'm coming back as EAW Hall of Fame Champion and I need to showcase to the world that Methuselah is the biggest fraud of all time. 

Not to mention that he calls himself "God," when the only thing godly about him is his persistent nature at being motivated when he feels like it. As for me, I've learned my lesson for years. I have come to the point of no turning back. I'm aiming forward and I will push this supposed legend aside and ride off in the sunset with my belt, my good name and the what has determined my destiny since birth as the "Greatest of All Times." And after I'm finished knocking his teeth down this throat, my main focus will turn to the lifeless career of Devan Dubian. Once the nail has sealed his coffin for good, I have bigger and better challenges ahead for myself. Who knows? Maybe the Grand Rampage or maybe I will convince the idiots that run this company that I deserve another shot for the EAW World Heavyweight Championship as no one in this business can touch me. I'm absolutely invincible right now and no one can differ. You can place the Heart Break Boy inside the ring with the whole damn Dynasty roster and still, I will remain and be seen as the official "Greatest" of in-ring ability, promo-ability, natural-ability and my God-given instincts as the face of this organization. I don't know what Methuselah has planned for the evening of our match but for whatever it's worth, he needs to cancel those plans. Because on Friday Night Dynasty, he will learn that he is far from a God. He will be referred to as God's angel. And if you know anything about the bible, you would know that angels only respond and take action from the orders of God. So what does that make your EAW Hall of Fame Champion? Well to my fans in St. Louis, to the entire world watching at home and compared to Methuselah, I AM A GOD! I will be barking out all orders for Methuselah to stay down once I've decapitated his entire existence from this world then feed him off to the dogs as he fails to become Interwire Champion once again. He might call me a fool for boldly proclaiming this entire message but I only see it as someone not discerning common knowledge to know that I am the Golden Boy. I am the Show-stealer. The Main-event and just like years ago at Reckless Wiring, I will once again confirm to the EAW Universe...

I am GREATEST. OF. ALL. TIMES. 

(The Heart Break Boy finally places his wrist out for the tattoo artist to start working as the door shuts behind them and the cameras fade to black.)

A battle royal match for the number 30 spot?  To be perfectly honest I don’t want to compete in this match and it isn’t due to fear or anything like that.  That spot just isn’t something I need, a lot of the guys in the match are going to put their life on the line in this match and compete harder in this match than they will in the actual Grand Rampage match.  You guys need this more than I do and you probably want it more than I do too which is fine you can want that number 30 spot all you want but with me in the match it’s not going to happen.   Yeah I know I said I don’t want to compete in this match but I never shy away from a challenge and who am I not to go out there and compete for that spot?  If they want to make it that easy for me than hey that’s on them, and I’d be dumb not to take this opportunity and run with it.   See this match is just a preview of what’s to come at Grand Rampage and that’s a heart break and its shattered dreams.   Like I said a lot of you need this number thirty spot because that’s the only way you’ll end up in the final 4 or 5 you guys get any spot before that and you’ll be eliminated before entrant thirty even makes his entrance.   Me on the other hand I’ll come out number 2, number 15 and number 25 it really doesn’t matter.   Not only will I be in the final 4, 3 or 2 I’ll be the final ONE.  I won’t speak on that much longer though I’ll save that for Grand Rampage week.  See the point I’m trying to get at if you haven’t comprehended yet is you guys need this a lot more than I do.   Especially guys like Nobi, Lars Grier and The Pizza Boy.  The number 30 spot means nothing to me but again I won’t pass up on an opportunity because it makes the opportunity to headline Pain for Pride that much easier.  I’m also not passing up on this opportunity because out of everyone in this match I’ll make the most of it.  You guys would win that number 30 spot and still end up losing Grand Rampage which means there is really no point of you guys winning in the first place.  
 
 
This will probably be the first and last time I address all or most the competitors in this match because it’s simply too time consuming with that being said though let’s speak on Pizza Boy first.   Ah, the boy wonder Pizza Boy I don’t know how you do it, I really don’t man.   You must have a real good relationship with lady luck because that’s where a lot of your success came from.  Not skill just luck Pizza Boy.  You are probably hoping luck bails you out again this week and at Grand Rampage and I hate to be the one to tell you this you’re luck has ran out.   See Pizza Boy as I stated earlier guys like you and you especially need this number thirty spot because you won’t last being entrant 10 or something like that.  You wouldn’t.   You winning this week would be luck once again however luck has ran its course it’s long gone now and its back to reality.  Its time you depend on your… Your skill, I mean that’s a lot easier said than done isn’t it? Considering you really don’t have any to begin with.  You are the ultimate underdog the fans adore you.   They look up to you, they one day want to be like you.   Even the older men, especially the older men want to be like you.   They wish they could go from sitting in their shitty job to doing what you do but that ends this week.  I’m going to make them realize it isn’t that easy and I’m going to force them to stay at their shit job with their shit pair with their shit boss, because even that is better than stepping in the ring with me.  Pizza Boy I feel like people take it too easy on you because of your height and because you’re only 110 pounds soaking wet.  I don’t care about that though, you want to step in the ring with the men then you’ll be treated like a man.  I’m showing no remorse, no respect.  I’m not even going to say I’m going to destroy you because this isn’t a one on one match and I’m not going to spend much time on.  What I will be doing though is throwing you out of the ring like a rag doll. 
 
 
Ah, let’s see who’s next.  Nobi a dear friend of Pizza Boys aren’t you?  I can’t wait to hear what you have to say about me.   I’m sure it’ll be something stupid like “A rope break won’t save you this time” even though it’s an over the top battle royal, however Nobi is indeed just that stupid though.   That’s his only excuse for me beating him it’s sad he probably still hasn’t gotten over that and will probably say exactly what I just said.   Nobi to be honest you will probably be the first one eliminated in this match again just a preview for Grand Rampage because you’ll probably be the first one eliminated in that too.  A matter of fact why are you even in the god damn match?  Are you kidding me?  Big Mike couldn’t just replace him?  He would have at least made use of a spot in Grand Rampage but instead you give it Nobi who will do absolutely nothing with it but make someone else look good.  
 
Let’s move onto the Philosopher Ryan Marx!  Oh wait that’s not what he goes by now apparently he gave that up and now he’s a zoologist… Wait that’s not right he’s a zeitgeist.  I’m not going to lie to you and act like I know what that is because I really don’t.  Maybe I’ll look it up some other time.   I know Ryan am an idiot for not knowing right?  Well I just hope you remember one thing before you open your mouth and speak down on me.  A matter of fact I hope you remember three things because that’s the amount of times I defeated you.  Not once, not twice but THREE times!   So what can you possibly say in the first place?  I mean there is no arguing that it’s in the record books.  It doesn’t show the fact that Lars helped me or Athena Vendetta it’s just going to show.  “Chris Elite defeated Ryan Marx”.   Just like at the end of this week it’ll show “Chris Elite defeated Ryan Marx and 6 other dweebs” okay it probably won’t say that but it should.   I guess the point of me speaking on you is just to let you know man to man I’m going to defeat you for a fourth time.   
 

Now onto Tiberius Jones.   Yeah I’m sorry I’m not calling you king, and I’m not even going to speak on you that long anyway I just have a question to ask.   Why are you in the match? As king shouldn’t you just be able to give yourself the number 30 spot? I mean god damn it, you give in the fucking crown for a title.   Again another valuable spot wasted that could have been given to Big Mike.    I guess you being “King” though is the only way you’ll be so interesting.   Well that’s all I have to really say for now.  Everyone else I’m not going to waste my breath on.   Lars will probably bring up how he won the last battle royal we were in and be angry when I bring up me defeating him in an actual one on one match.   Rex will go on and on until I respond to him about the fact nothing has changed since November and I’m still unsuccessful.  Can’t wait to see his reaction when I’m the reason he won’t be the first National Elite champion to win Grand Rampage.   Stark I have no idea what he’ll say nor do I honestly give a damn.  However if he’s like everyone else I’ll be reminded of my 7 years of failure and that it took me 7 years to win the New Breed title.   Let’s not forget the homosexual jokes about Big Mike.   You know regular stuff that is brought up when I’m in a match with someone.   However just like any time I won’t let that bullshit get in the way of me going out there and doing what I have to do.  I hope you guys are prepared to be disappointed this week and the week after.   I hope you guys are prepared to watch me have my hand raised this week and the week after because that’s what’s going to happen and you cannot and you will not stop it.

Showdown Promo 2: Uncut Pizza

The camera opens on Pizza Boy siting at a table in Bo and Tye's playing with dominoes. He sets up one behind the other in a straight line. Without looking up from his toys he address the camera.

"So whose first? Let's start with the ones who are directly calling me out shall we? Namely, one Ryan Marx.  I've never seen a man believe so much in his own hype before...well, except for Tiberius Jones...and Drake...aaand there was Judas...Correction: I've never seen someone THIS MONTH so into themselves.  'You haven't seen the true me, the one that comes from a tower made of cocaine bricks and ego.'  The truth is that I think I have Ryan.  I've seen a desperate little boy trying to play schoolyard bully to build up his reputation.  I've seen a man who would rather lose well than win and grow.  I've seen the veneer peel on that maniacal mask and I've seen the scared child behind it whose afraid to get ahead in life.  He makes up excuses, calls losses 'subtle victories' and never truly goes anywhere.  You've dug in like a tick just outside of the upper echelon, carved out your own little comfy niche where you can be a big fish in a small pond.  That's fine.  That doesn't effect me.  If anything, it makes my job easier going into this battle royal.  You can beat me, you can break me, you can destroy my body, but you just can't muster up the courage to put a bullet through my heart.  You just can't manage to put me down because you know that if you take down this pizza shark, you'll have to go on to bigger and more brutal sharks. You are honest about one thing though despite your attempt at misgivings.  You're right that the world is nothing but numbers and statistics.  Right now, when it comes to me and you, it's all one's and zeroes, as in Pizza Boy- 1, Marx-0. And that's all that really means anything"

PB flips a spotless white domino to the side and measures up the next one set up in the line.  It's an orange domino with six dots on it's bottom tile.

"And then there's Lars Grier who thinks I'm a joke.  Lars do you want to hear a real joke? Knock Knock.  Whose there? Lars Grier.  Lars Grier Who? Exactly.  You call my title reigns a black mark on the industry? at least I've made history and have title reigns to brag about.  Who'd you ever beat? It seems like the only major feud in the record books for you is your never ending battle with obscurity.  For once I get why one of the people I'm getting in the ring with is a dick to the fans.  You just want a reaction, some attention, any sort of vindication for your chosen career path as a wrestler.  You want momentum that makes you more than another dumb big man that everybody looks past. I mean yeesh, I call myself a 'nobody', but you? You're the real deal aren'tcha hoss? And yeah, I do think you have an infantile capacity for thought or understanding, otherwise you'd know that object permanence is a thing.  If you did, you'd know this mini battle royal isn't going to be the last time you see me.  I'll be in Grand Rampage so get used to looking at me from the ground, that is if you even last to see my entrance at thirty.  You'd also know that just because the clips are on another website doesn't mean they don't exist.  Go look back at me beating huge men and top stars.  Go look back at me taking on HexaGun by myself.  Go watch as I made Ares Vendetta bleed, beg, and fall at my feet.  Go watch me getting the crap kicked out of me by Mexican Samurai only to come back for more.  Watch me battle the ruthless Nico Borg, go watch me fight OMERTA.  I am not a man to be taken lightly, and I'm a damn sight better than some juice head with roid rager whose so big and swollen he struggles to wrestle his baby dick out when he's at the urinal.  Here's another one for ya Lars: Knock Knock.  Whose there? Pizza Boy.  Pizza Boy who?"

PB picks up the domino off of the table and tosses it over his shoulder.  He reaches a domino in the line that's seen better days.  It's been broken down it's middle crease and stitched up childishly with a band-aid.  Pizza Boy studies it thoughtfully as he steadies his finger, pulls it back, and then stalls once more.  After a long pause, he picks up the domino and holds it up to the camera.

"You've been through a lot Rex.  It means a lot that you look up to me, think of me as some sort of role model or something.  I don't think I deserve that for falling off of things or being thrown into other things, but I do appreciate the sentiment.  I've been watching you too you know? You've been tested, you've been tempted, and you've been denied so many times.  Every time you're tempted with the easy way out you take the long way home and I admire that about you, and once again feel like a glowing father if anything I'm trying to convey in that ring in regards to sportsmanship is being paid attention to.  I don't hear that a lot.  You and I are like inverse reflections of one another: I came in with everyone thinking I'd be nobody and rose to the occasion every time I was given a chance to do so, and you came in with blue chipper status, worked hard, took losses, waited patiently, and finally captured some gold.  Both paths involve an extreme work ethic and a professional demeanor, but mine's been a bit less pleasant in some ways.  Again, like polar opposites, you fell in easy losses while I won hard victories.  That's not an indictment on your body of work, but it's definitely been more ring savvy and less 'fall from extreme heights' savvy as mine has.  If anything that's an indictment on me.  I'm what the purist call a 'garbage wrestler', and maybe it's true.  It's hard to argue against considering I have permanent acid reflux from ingesting urinal water, and a surgery scar that's longer than any of my title reigns.  You were the chosen one and I was the black sheep.  I don't resent you for that.  If put in your position where I wasn't allowed to do what I do, but instead had to rely on my mat acumen, I'd be losing to guys like Lars on Voltage for a living.  My point is that there's more than one kind of bad day.  To some a bad day is having too much food on their plate because the waiter keeps piling on one savory steak after another every time you ask for a drink refill.  To others a bad day is dying of thirst in a third world country, wishing you had a moldy piece of bread to chew on, if not for nourishment then for building up saliva in your mouth just so you can experience some form of moisture.  Nobody's ever put a steak in front of me and told me to dig in Rex.  Nobody has ever told me that I deserve a title shot, or that I deserve to be mentioned in the same breath as some of the top Elitists  I had to earn that.  I didn't have the hype riding in behind me when some tacky manager in a hair piece that no one's ever heard of drug me through the doors of the front office and put a pen in my hand to sign a contract with zero guarantees.  I'm not going to pretend to know what opportunities were promised to you when you put your name on that same dotted line, but considering the past year it's hard for me to believe that you didn't have a bit of the corporate shine behind you.  And like I said, I don't resent you for it. It's the nature of the beast and you still had to prove yourself, but know that you're only going to have one chance to win this battle royal for that coveted last entry, and that you will only have one chance to win Grand Rampage."

Pizza Boy slides the domino away with it still standing upright.  He then comes to a line of dominoes, all the same shade of yellow.  He swipes them away dismissively.

"Everyone else is being quiet right now, which is fine.  It gives me time to focus on what this is really all about in the long run."

Pizza Boy comes to the final two dominos.  The first one in line is orange with two red dots on top and one red dot on the bottom tile.  The last one is black with one golden dot on it's bottom tile.

"I'm coming Lannister.  I don't care if it means going through 37 or 7, I'm coming for you and nothing will stop me from getting that belt back.  I'll take on the whole roster if it's what it takes.  Hell I'll take on all 3 rosters.  I've wrestled a woman, I'll go against Empire, I don't care as long as you're what's at the end of the line I'm fine with that.  No Jones, no Elite, no Stark, or Nobi will hold me back from regaining that strap.  Just think; if I'll fight kingdoms, an Empire, and a Dynasty to get my hands on you, just imagine what happens when I finally do."

Pizza Boy flicks the orange domino, sending it sailing into the black one, which cartwheels through the air upon impact, before ricocheting off of the wall, and falling into a nearby drink cup.

"This is my time and I don't care if it takes winning a grand rampage to finally show everyone that I'm not the kid to cash in on."

The camera fades to black as the black domino begins sinking into the caramel soda, until even it's golden speck is fully engulfed by the brown liquid and disappears.

Dynasty Promo #2


@PicPerfectMichaels has posted status update:

"My dear followers, as I sit here waiting for my flight out to St. Louis, I have a moment to sit and reflect on the situation that has been brewing over the past few weeks between myself and @FinneganWakefield. About how delusional he is when he not only claims to be anywhere near my level in the ring, but then turns around and call me the the embodiment of the cesspool of bottom rung, no talent, waste of space, curtain jerkers. About how just like Lee Harvey Oswald or Sirhan Sirhan, he was so desperate to gain even a minuscule amount of relevance to his name, that he was willing to toss me on my head out on the concrete around ringside. And right now the more I look back at the events of last week's episode of Dynasty, the more pissed off I get.

See Finnegan would like to tell the world he was the guy who was gonna win last week. He likes to says he was distracted by me and that's what cost him, I say that's all bullshit. Watch the footage, the video doesn't lie. I was the guy who left Target Smiles laying from a Screen Cracker. The same one that Chris Paradise needed to steal a win. I was the guy who was inches, literally inches, away from taking on Lucas Johnson, and saving the New Breed Championship from his fat, flabby waist. But then Finnegan Wakefieldhad to ruin it all when he caught the biggest case of Michaels' envy that the world has ever seen! Finn knew damn well that I had that match won, he knew that I was on my way to taking hold of my destiny! He knew that he didn't stand a chance of beating me either in that fatal fourway match, or one on one for the title, so the absolute best he could every hope to do is put me on the shelf just weeks before Grand Rampage, and keep me off during the Pain for Pride season.

Now I'm sure there's some deaf, dumb, and half blind moron who asking 'But why would Finnegan Wakefield try to injure you Mark?' Well as evident by his little Mark Michaels lite act he's playing on Facebook, he is nothing more than a jealous rat bastard who knows that I outclass him in every conceivable way. I'm a better wrestler than Finn, I've accomplished more that he has (or ever will), I'm a bigger star than him, I'm more popular both on Social Media and in arenas the whole world over and I'm better looking.

It's not hard to see why Finnegan became a hating jackass who tried to troll me last Friday night, But true to form, Finnegan couldn't get the job done. He failed just like he always does when he gets anywhere close to the spotlight. And now his penchant for fucking up is coming right back to kick him square in the ass about as hard as I'm gonna kick him in the balls!

Now I'm Perfectly aware that Finnegan needs Kelly Hackenschmidt to be out there at ringside and save his ass from the unholy beatdown I am gonna lay on him. But even with his little butt buddy out there, I'll still be making sure that Finn is gonna wish he had never even thought of that Andromeda he hit me with because This Friday, once that bell rings there is not a man alive who is gonna keep me from mauling him! No Mountain will be too high, no river is will be too wide, wherever I have to go, whatever I have to do to get my hands around Wakefield's neck, you better believe I'm gonna do it! If I have to climb up the St. Louis arch with my bare hands during a rainstorm while being its being doused with oil, that's how far I'm willing to go to beat the ever loving shit out of Finn Wakefield.

Finnegan, you better get on your knees and start saying your damn prayers, because live on Dynasty, you are gonna feel the wrath of a wrestling god! When I'm finished you Finn, the plagues of Egypt, the destruction of Sodom and gomorrah, the great flood, and all the carnage in the book of revelations, will all seem like a pleasure Cruise. I am going to give you an ass whooping for the record books. Your mama won't even recognize you from how bloodied and bruised I'm gonna leave you. But don't worry Finnegan, because there is a silver lining to this. After I've humbled and humiliated you In the ring, I'm gonna take a selfie of myself standing over your unconscious body, and when that picture goes viral, and becomes a world wide trend on twitter, and people begin to make memes of your black and blue face, then you'll finally have the attention you've been seeking Finnegan. Then you will have finally found a shred of relevancy in this industry.

And then after the final bell rings, it will be on to Grand Rampage, where I'll be sending twenty nine... well twenty eight once I put Finn into a coma, sailing over the top rope. It doesn't matter who's in the Grand Rampage match, or what order they come out, or even what number I draw. If I have to start all the way from the number one spot, and battle my way thru each and every son of a bitch that steps out thru the curtain, than so be it. I am more than prepared, because that is the extraordinary kind of athlete that I am. I am the man whose speed, strength, technique, and endurance are the absolute PERFECT amounts to be standing tall as the winner of Grand Rampage, and worthy to step forth in the main event of the biggest Pain For Pride ever, and take home that world championship I have been dreaming about since I was six years old.

A lifetime of hard work, and dedication are about to be rewarded with gold. And there is no more perfect time than right now for that to happen. Because greatness runs thru my veins, and now is the time of year when the absolute best rise to the top of not only this company, but of this illustrious sport! And there is not a single being on this planet drawing breath that could ever claim to be better than me, because there is simply no such thing as better than perfect! And in the coming weeks, each and every one of the clowns in both the locker room, and the board room, are gonna see first hand exactly why. When I step all over Finnegan Wakefield, and plant his head into the mat for the one, two, three, it will be the example I set for anybody who tries to screw with me on the road to Pain For Pride. The unmerciful beating that Finn is gonna get, I got one for every member of not just the Dynasty roster, but for every EAW Elitist in the company. This is the warning to stay out of my way, so everyone reading this consider yourself on notice. Mark Michaels will be a champion here in EAW, whether any of you jackasses like it or not!


Big things are about to go down here in EAW, starting with the utter dismantling of Finnegan Wakefield, the running of the gauntlet at Grand Rampage, and finally the World Heavyweight Championship being placed perfectly around my waist. You can bet your bottom dollar on it happening because I am the Twitter Trendsetter, the Instagram Icon, the #Hero to each and every last member of the EAW universe whether they realize it or not. The man who clashed with the living legends in this business and made damn sure that they remembered the name Mark Michaels! The man who has tangled with Zack Crash, Methuselah, Y2Impact, Scott Oasis, and so many more that I'm sure I'd hit the max character limit before I even got a quarter of the way thru! The man who rises to the occasion every single time he is presented with an opportunity (unlike that coat tail ridding asshole I'm facing this week) and shines brightest when the spotlight is set dead center on him. The man who will without a shadow of a doubt godown as the Undisputed greatest professional athlete to ever grace the sport with his presence. The man whose skills have earned him an army of followers who flock from every corner of the globe just to catch a glimpse of him. The man who is the future of this company and thus is the destiny of Dynasty. The Undisputed Social Media Champion, and more importantly, the man who is gonna torch every single son of a bitch in the Grand Rampage next Saturday, "Picture Perfect" Mark Michaels. And all of EAW, and especially Finnegan Wakefield, better start Picturing THAT!"


41,000,000 users liked this

Dynasty Promo #2


@PicPerfectMichaels has posted status update:

"My dear followers, as I sit here waiting for my flight out to St. Louis, I have a moment to sit and reflect on the situation that has been brewing over the past few weeks between myself and @FinneganWakefield. About how delusional he is when he not only claims to be anywhere near my level in the ring, but then turns around and call me the the embodiment of the cesspool of bottom rung, no talent, waste of space, curtain jerkers. About how just like Lee Harvey Oswald or Sirhan Sirhan, he was so desperate to gain even a minuscule amount of relevance to his name, that he was willing to toss me on my head out on the concrete around ringside. And right now the more I look back at the events of last week's episode of Dynasty, the more pissed off I get.

See Finnegan would like to tell the world he was the guy who was gonna win last week. He likes to says he was distracted by me and that's what cost him, I say that's all bullshit. Watch the footage, the video doesn't lie. I was the guy who left Target Smiles laying from a Screen Cracker. The same one that Chris Paradise needed to steal a win. I was the guy who was inches, literally inches, away from taking on Lucas Johnson, and saving the New Breed Championship from his fat, flabby waist. But then Finnegan Wakefieldhad to ruin it all when he caught the biggest case of Michaels' envy that the world has ever seen! Finn knew damn well that I had that match won, he knew that I was on my way to taking hold of my destiny! He knew that he didn't stand a chance of beating me either in that fatal fourway match, or one on one for the title, so the absolute best he could every hope to do is put me on the shelf just weeks before Grand Rampage, and keep me off during the Pain for Pride season.

Now I'm sure there's some deaf, dumb, and half blind moron who asking 'But why would Finnegan Wakefield try to injure you Mark?' Well as evident by his little Mark Michaels lite act he's playing on Facebook, he is nothing more than a jealous rat bastard who knows that I outclass him in every conceivable way. I'm a better wrestler than Finn, I've accomplished more that he has (or ever will), I'm a bigger star than him, I'm more popular both on Social Media and in arenas the whole world over and I'm better looking.

It's not hard to see why Finnegan became a hating jackass who tried to troll me last Friday night, But true to form, Finnegan couldn't get the job done. He failed just like he always does when he gets anywhere close to the spotlight. And now his penchant for fucking up is coming right back to kick him square in the ass about as hard as I'm gonna kick him in the balls!

Now I'm Perfectly aware that Finnegan needs Kelly Hackenschmidt to be out there at ringside and save his ass from the unholy beatdown I am gonna lay on him. But even with his little butt buddy out there, I'll still be making sure that Finn is gonna wish he had never even thought of that Andromeda he hit me with because This Friday, once that bell rings there is not a man alive who is gonna keep me from mauling him! No Mountain will be too high, no river is will be too wide, wherever I have to go, whatever I have to do to get my hands around Wakefield's neck, you better believe I'm gonna do it! If I have to climb up the St. Louis arch with my bare hands during a rainstorm while being its being doused with oil, that's how far I'm willing to go to beat the ever loving shit out of Finn Wakefield.

Finnegan, you better get on your knees and start saying your damn prayers, because live on Dynasty, you are gonna feel the wrath of a wrestling god! When I'm finished you Finn, the plagues of Egypt, the destruction of Sodom and gomorrah, the great flood, and all the carnage in the book of revelations, will all seem like a pleasure Cruise. I am going to give you an ass whooping for the record books. Your mama won't even recognize you from how bloodied and bruised I'm gonna leave you. But don't worry Finnegan, because there is a silver lining to this. After I've humbled and humiliated you In the ring, I'm gonna take a selfie of myself standing over your unconscious body, and when that picture goes viral, and becomes a world wide trend on twitter, and people begin to make memes of your black and blue face, then you'll finally have the attention you've been seeking Finnegan. Then you will have finally found a shred of relevancy in this industry.

And then after the final bell rings, it will be on to Grand Rampage, where I'll be sending twenty nine... well twenty eight once I put Finn into a coma, sailing over the top rope. It doesn't matter who's in the Grand Rampage match, or what order they come out, or even what number I draw. If I have to start all the way from the number one spot, and battle my way thru each and every son of a bitch that steps out thru the curtain, than so be it. I am more than prepared, because that is the extraordinary kind of athlete that I am. I am the man whose speed, strength, technique, and endurance are the absolute PERFECT amounts to be standing tall as the winner of Grand Rampage, and worthy to step forth in the main event of the biggest Pain For Pride ever, and take home that world championship I have been dreaming about since I was six years old.

A lifetime of hard work, and dedication are about to be rewarded with gold. And there is no more perfect time than right now for that to happen. Because greatness runs thru my veins, and now is the time of year when the absolute best rise to the top of not only this company, but of this illustrious sport! And there is not a single being on this planet drawing breath that could ever claim to be better than me, because there is simply no such thing as better than perfect! And in the coming weeks, each and every one of the clowns in both the locker room, and the board room, are gonna see first hand exactly why. When I step all over Finnegan Wakefield, and plant his head into the mat for the one, two, three, it will be the example I set for anybody who tries to screw with me on the road to Pain For Pride. The unmerciful beating that Finn is gonna get, I got one for every member of not just the Dynasty roster, but for every EAW Elitist in the company. This is the warning to stay out of my way, so everyone reading this consider yourself on notice. Mark Michaels will be a champion here in EAW, whether any of you jackasses like it or not!


Big things are about to go down here in EAW, starting with the utter dismantling of Finnegan Wakefield, the running of the gauntlet at Grand Rampage, and finally the World Heavyweight Championship being placed perfectly around my waist. You can bet your bottom dollar on it happening because I am the Twitter Trendsetter, the Instagram Icon, the #Hero to each and every last member of the EAW universe whether they realize it or not. The man who clashed with the living legends in this business and made damn sure that they remembered the name Mark Michaels! The man who has tangled with Zack Crash, Methuselah, Y2Impact, Scott Oasis, and so many more that I'm sure I'd hit the max character limit before I even got a quarter of the way thru! The man who rises to the occasion every single time he is presented with an opportunity (unlike that coat tail ridding asshole I'm facing this week) and shines brightest when the spotlight is set dead center on him. The man who will without a shadow of a doubt godown as the Undisputed greatest professional athlete to ever grace the sport with his presence. The man whose skills have earned him an army of followers who flock from every corner of the globe just to catch a glimpse of him. The man who is the future of this company and thus is the destiny of Dynasty. The Undisputed Social Media Champion, and more importantly, the man who is gonna torch every single son of a bitch in the Grand Rampage next Saturday, "Picture Perfect" Mark Michaels. And all of EAW, and especially Finnegan Wakefield, better start Picturing THAT!"


41,000,000 users liked this

(A wild David Davidson isn’t acting so wild, he’s just sitting on the stoop…silent. He’s collecting his thoughts, so let's find out what this young chap is so hard at work thinking about shall we? Jack Ripley appears so we can get down to some answers)

Jack: Hey

David:...

Jack: Hey

David:...

(Jack pulls out his trusty stick, and starts to poke David)

Jack: Hey.. Do stuff.

David: HOLY FUC… (David catches himself since he knows how big of a role model he is to the children of Chile and Cameroon) FRICK!!

Jack: AHHH, OH MY GOD, WHAT IS GOING ON!!

David: Oh.. You startled me.

Jack: Oh.. What were you doing?

David: Contemplating thoughts...about life…

Jack: Really?

David: Yeah, I’ve been getting really into meditation, soothes the body, and the mind.

Jack: How does one do this “meditating”. 

David: I don’t know, you type meditating into YouTube and BAAAM! You meditate. 

Jack: Oh, does it help in the ring?

David: It better.. Or else.

Jack: Or else what?

David: I will thumbs down the video.

Jack: You’re a savage… Anyways, hey, have you seen the interviewer around? I wanna do dastardly stuff to him.

David: No actually, but he left this letter.

(David reaches into his pocket and whips out a letter. He puts on his fancy reading glasses and begins to read.)

David: There’s a lot of typos.. “Deer, High Rollers” … ew… “You guise, have bean vury meen two meh n it makes meh sade. Were nao onn a breek. I luv u both vury much, ur in my thots.”

Jack: How did he become a journalist of any kind? 

David: Probably got his degree from the University of Phoenix or Everest. 

Jack: What a garbage person.

David: But still.. Do you kind of feel an emptiness without him?

(Jack gets a concerned look on his face, he looks down… Like he’s on the verge of tears. He looks up before taking a deep breath.)

Jack and David: HAHHAHAHAHAHA

Jack: Yeah right dude

David: I know, I’m hilarious… I hope he dies out there without us.

Jack: Seriously what will he do witho-....

David: Oh… Why’d you stop mid sentence…

Jack: Oh… Because he’s right there….

David: Hmm?

Jack: The… The Interviewer… He’s hiding behind that pillar 

(The camera pans to a guy in a trench coat.. But nothing covering his face)

David: Oh… We see you

Interviewer: … No you don’t… 

Jack: No… Yeah, we see you right there. Behind the pillar.. And you’re talking to us.. Very distinct voice. It is the sound of mop sweat and depression. 

David: I think I smell that too

Jack: Yeah it just resonates off him. 

Interviewer: Ugh fine.

(He awkwardly emerges from the shadows and starts to run at the High Rollerz, like the biggest uncoordinated nerd you’ve ever seen. He reaches into his pocket as he’s running at them.)

Jack: FOREIGN OBJECT!!!

(David springs into action, he’s been in situations like this before, he knows he’s staring death into his eyes, but he doesn’t care, the lives of him and his best friend are in danger, and they must be protected. Even if it is from the softest human of all time. David flies into the air like a phoenix, beautifully and gracefully, as he drives both of his feet directly into the interviewers sternum, making him not being able to feel feelings anymore. Jack runs up behind them.)

Jack: OH MY GOD… David are you ok? He tried to murder us. 

David: I know, I was startled, but I knew it had to be done.

(The microphone that The Interviewer was trying to pull out of his pocket to interview The High Rollerz with falls out of his pocket.. But it’s too late, the interviewer is unconscious.)

David: What the hell is that?

Jack: One of his weird robot dildos? 

David: Sounds legit. 

Jack: Hey.. Sh-

David: Hey

Jack: Oh.. no, I was starting a thought..

David: Oh continue. 

Jack: Should we talk about our opponents?
David: I mean, I guess we kinda have to…..

(Just then a familiar voice… A voice from a time long past remerged into the vicinity of where the High Rollerz laid their claim to the land.)

David: NO...IT CAN’T BE!!!!

(The camera pans to the orphan kid that The High Rollerz ran into weeks ago. You know, the kid that Jack hit and made shine his boots? Good times. The orphan kid is like eight years old and crouches down to check on interviewer.)

Orphan Kid: DAAAAAAAAAAD!!! NO DAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!! WHAT DID YOU GUYS DO? 

David: Dad? But you are an orphan? Nobody wants or loves you. Why must you forget this?

Orphan Kid: A few weeks ago, when you guys picked on me, the interviewer lurked in the shadows and he seeked justice on my behalf. He adopted me because we shared the same pain. We made a blood pact and everything!

Jack: Oh weird. That’s a weird thing to do. 

Orphan Kid: And seeing as how my strange dad is dead, I must carry on the family legacy and interview you guys. 

Interviewer: Hey guys, I am really hurting over here, I need a do--

(Jack, David and the orphan kid aren’t even paying attention to the interviewer in the background because let’s face it, nobody notices him anyways.)

David: I mean I guess. There probably won’t be any difference because you are at the same maturity level. So sure, ask away, Interviewer Jr. 

Interviewer Jr: Hello ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to be joined by the current EAW Unified Tag Team Champions, The High Rollerz...Jack Ripley and David Davidson. What’s poppin’ playas? 

David: I cringed a lot just then. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh? 

Jack: Go into the corner and think about what you’ve done… Don’t force me to make you shine my title and shoes again. 

Interviewer Jr.: Ok… Forget I said the last part..

David: No…

Jack: We have the memory of elephants, we remember everything… I even remember when i was birthed, the first time I saw light… What an experience. 

David: Don’t pout, Interviewer Jr. You’re acting like a child. 

Interviewer Jr: I am a ch-

David: Hey, you aren’t allowed to talk while you are in time out. Plus you just interrupted me. That is a big no-no when it comes to the interviewing profession. You probably learned that from your odd dad, but still, you shouldn’t do such a thing. So help me god I will get Adrian Peterson in here to teach you a lesson. Now, just like the regular interviewer, I am sure your questions were going to be just as predictable as his. For instance, I am sure you were going to ask about RoViper and attempt to collect our thoughts regarding our match for OUR titles at the Grand Rampage, but you see, why would we do such a thing? Why show our hand so early? Why use up our ammo a week before the Grand Rampage? Nah, Brian and Robbie will have to wait a week for that verbal beatdown. So for the time being, I suppose we should talk about our opponents for this week. Yeah that’s right, we actually have a match on Saturday while those two get yet another week off to lick each other’s wounds. 

Jack: Haha Yeah they probably like to lick other places on each other too! … Get it?

David: Yeah, that was kinda the joke. 

Jack: Such as… But not limited to, their genitals. See what I’m saying? 

(Jack looks at Interviewer Jr.)

Interviewer Jr.: I’m 10

Jack: 10! 10! 10! 10!

David: What are you doing?

Jack: I don’t know, these donuts are drugged

David: What donuts?

(Jack has been sneaking donuts the entire time they’ve been talking, because they’re delicious)

Jack: WHO DRUGGED THESE?!! 

David: No, we’re not doing that bit right now, gotta be serious. 

Jack: Fine.. Next time. The Mystery of The Drugged Donuts.. Dun Dun Dun.. 

David: I don’t even know what just happened, but I liked it. I think? But anyways, yes we are here to talk about our opponents because it is what we do. It is written in our contracts, so we must oblige. So it turns out that come this Saturday night,  we will be facing the meme team. MEGUMEME I think?

Jack: Are they a team of dank memes?

David: The dankest. So like, this team is new and stuff. Just getting their feet wet. They are probably still in awe that EAW actually signed them to contracts. It’s like lying on your resume and getting away with it. So well done, gentlemen. Because I will be honest, when I first saw you and heard the both of you talk, I said to myself, perhaps we finally have some competition here on Showdown, which is what we have been asking for since winning these titles. Thanks Santa! But then...well, then you debuted. And you lost, even though you talked this big game. So awkward, am I right? You see, I recall MJX saying that it is their goal to win the tag team titles...and the kicker is, he said it so confidently, like it would come to fruition. Like I said, you guys are new here, so I will give you some time to improve and see how you guys pan out. But unfortunately for this week, we can’t factor in “what ifs”...we must look back and observe your most recent performances, yes, all two of them, and basically judge you as competitors. So with that said, I must say, I am rather disappointed. As a refresher, you lost to The Burned Man and Theron in your first match. During this match, you guys were the unknown...the wildcards! Which is what MJX is in a nutshell right? He is a John Doe. We don’t know his age or his hobbies or if he likes long walks on the beach or what he did before he came to EAW, which I think is for the best because in the end, it won’t matter. I think you know what I mean by that. So to continue with this debut of yours, one of you, I believe it was MJX, said that what they do in the ring would be one big eye opener to the rest of the Showdown locker room!!!! OHHHHHH, we would all be put on notice all right! Silly MJX, don’t write checks your ass can’t cash. That is rule number one in professional wrestling. Number two? Bow to us, duhhhhh. But hey, congrats, on looking like a nitwit. 

Oh but what about last week, huh? Surely your debut was a fluke and the both of you would cement yourselves as the big threats you see yourselves as. I mean, at least MJX took care of business. He beat some other new guy that I have never heard of, but I guess that is something, right? Sure! If I were you, I would invest in those moral victories because it’ll be all you have! So MJX gets his first win in EAW under his belt...and he doesn’t even get three seconds to celebrate because Lars Grier puts him flat on his back, knocking him unconscious. You just can’t make this up. But I don’t blame Lars, for that match you had with Luke should have never been televised in the first place. Hell, it should have never been booked. I still don’t understand how or why it became a thing. You should want your viewers to watch your show all the way through, not for them to flip to a different channel so they can watch something actually interesting and exciting. Hell, even the Home Shopping Network would’ve been better. So I guess you could say your week was bittersweet. But what about your partner? Torito or something. He had an even worse week when Cody Marshall clobbered him...and MJX as well, which again just makes it that much more embarrassing for you. Ahhh, remember when you guys had these ridiculous dreams and aspirations to be the best tag team in EAW? This is a lesson, kids. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. So long story short, it was the both of you with a chair against one big redneck and couldn’t even get the job done. I think you can understand our disinterest in this match. You can also understand why we would naturally underestimate you guys since we have a big match...a match that actually matters a week later against two “legends”. I am annoyed more than anything. I am annoyed that I have to face yet another team that has only teamed together for one match before facing the tag team champions. Stuffed Crust. The Knights of the Dawning...just add MEGUMEME to the list. But it is something we should expect, I suppose. As long as we are the champions, there won’t be many teams coming our way, challenging us for our prized possessions because they know better. But every so often, there comes a team with tunnel vision, looking past all the warning signs and step up to us regardless...HA! You can’t cure foolishness, I’m afraid. Now, usually before I give Jack the floor to speak his mind, I try to end my speech in a clever manner, to really get my opponents thinking, but I ask myself, why bother? What’s the point? You are undeserving. You yourselves have made that abundantly clear. 

Jack: You two have what seems to be a golden opportunity here. You, just like us, are specifically a tag team, no other agenda other than what’s best for the team. We appreciate that, we really do, because we’ve been trying to dig up this division out of it’s grave, and revive it into something admirable. Can you help us? The tag team division, aka the Frankenstein division, has been a one horse race for the past 4 or 5 months. We need your help, we really do. Sigh, the problem is I don’t think you guys will be much help at all, seeing that you two really aren’t that good. I mean, you lost your debut match, does anyone ever do that in the history of ever? Your debut match is supposed to be your showcase, your big step up to the prime time. It’s supposed to make everyone excited about your future, and give people a glimpse of things to come. But did you do that? Did you make anyone excited about you at all? I’d say no. Though you might just have given a glimpse into the future. I’m no fortune teller but when I look in the crystal ball, I see loss, after loss, after loss… And it goes on and on, until you quit. Honestly i don’t see this team having any staying power. Once you lose to us, you will see how over your head you two are. What happens after that? You find out you’re not good enough to beat the guys that have what you crave most, meaning that you won’t have any chance of getting what you ultimately want. MEANING, your entire career path has been one giant waste of time. After that you two will have a falling out, where you will both blame each other for what happened, even though you’re both to blame for being equally terrible. It is at this point that MJX starts up a successful insurance company that helps out the little man. Meanwhile the anime character Totoro tries to make money out of the fact his name is a fake anime character. Only to find out that his name is actually copyrighted because he didn’t create the name, and he’s trying to make money out of it, ultimately being sued. He loses the suet and has to give the company, and writer of said anime all the money in his bank account. What happens next is not so pretty.. Not that any part of this story has been.. But what happens next is, Totoro you turn to a life of drugs and promiscuous sex. Sounds fun right? WELL ITS NOT! You’re doing these things for money and addiction. You do sexual favors for money for the drugs, and you keep spinning down the gutter. Years later though, after years of EAW funded rehab you get better.. And I’m talking years later like 30. It is then you Totoro and MJX have a reunion, talks about a comeback ensues. MJX has had enough of his very successful insurance agency, and misses the bright lights. He did well financially, he’s set for life, but now, it’s time for a return to the ring. Totoro, still under legal troubles with his name tries to come up with a new name seeing that he can’t use the one he previously used.. He chooses Goku… He gets sued again later, years later. But as the discussion of a return persists you guys realize that no one is interested in a return of this terrible team that didn’t do shit when they were in their prime. These late 50 year olds with a chip on their shoulder doesn’t quite sell in the year 2047. All the kids care about is their robot dogs, and automatic travel, it’s a travesty. Long story short, no one wants you to return, Totoro, or Goku as he likes to be called now, goes back to drugs, and dies. MJX goes back to his insurance agency, and lives well until his wife starts to nag, and say that it’s time to retire. MJX has enough of the nagging, his best friend died, he just realized that his name is just three letter nonsense! And he needs to constantly work so that the memory of his ex best friend, and tag team partner stays out of mind… And the fact his name is MJX. She doesn’t understand, she’s never had a friendship like that. With years of bumping, and years of injuries, he can’t quite keep his anger inside, and beats her… He beats her so bad, she now dies. He can’t believe what he did, not only did his best friend of years die, but now he murdered his beloved wife. He can’t live this way, the insurance company isn’t what it used to be, he’s lonely… And as an old bitter man, with a shit wrestling career behind him.. And a MURDERER… He commits suicide. And that is what will happen, after you two face The High Rollerz this Saturday. Are you sure you’re ready for all of that?  Long story short… You two are gonna lose. 

David: Well said, 10 outta 10 would listen to again. Would recommend to friends. 

Interviewer Jr.: Well, that was...detailed. 

David: Where’s your sister…

Interviewer:  I have a sister?

Jack: Yeah, he’s had a boner for her the moment he laid eyes on her.

Interviewer: Boner?

David: Terrible interview.. 1 outta 10, would not interviewee again. 

Jack: Oh, he’s on Interviewer level bad?

David: No, he’s 0 outta 10. So he’s got that going for him…

(Jack looks down at the kid and smiles… Gives him a thumbs up. The kid looks back up at Jack, and smiles back. Jack then changes the expression on his face to anger, and gives him the middle finger.. The kid is crushed.)

Jack: There’s a little sloot of a kid that’s gonna need to shine my shoes soon if he doesn’t get out of here. 

(The Interviewer Jr. scampers off, but not before trying to drag his dad’s lifeless corpse off with him)

Interviewer: Son, I’m fine, please let go of me.

Jack and David and Interviewer jr.: SHUT UP YOU’RE DEAD…

(Everyone awkwardly stares at everyone for a sec, and the Interviewers go away.)

David: Going back to my meditation.

(David leaves)

Jack: Oh these crazy kids.

(Freeze frame on Jack smiling with an “oh what am I gonna do with these guys” expression. Camera fades to black)

This is the problem with you, Sophia. You’re always underestimating people. You’ve underestimated every opponent who has been placed in front of you. This happened to be one of your biggest mistakes in the Grand Rampage, Empress of Elite and in this final. You like to play the role that you’re above every woman you have faced. You want to play this act that you’re in a whole other level from the women on Empire. Besides all the praises I gave you, what makes Sophia Rose so special from all the other women? What makes Sophia Rose more special from a Consuela Rose Ava? Besides the immediate impact, you made on Empire during your first run, what else do you offer on Empire? Do you think that the rest of the women in the locker room are going to praise you? You think the women here are going to worship the ground you walk on since most people have pictured you of being a future champion? At least with me, I have the balls to say that you’re talented and you have a bright future. I’m not saying it so you go easier than me. I’m not saying this to play some sort of mind game with you. I’m saying it because no other women in this locker room is going to admit anything. No, they rather let that little fact eat them alive for as long as they live. You may be great, but are you in a different level from the rest of the competition? No, you’re not. You’re no different from the women who walk in her believing that they should be champion from the first night in the business. You’re no different from the entitled men who think that they should be World Champion by Friday night. You’re no different from the crybabies who believe they deserve better. Like I said before, I wouldn’t be shocked if you quit after this match on Empire. I wouldn’t be shocked if you believed your whole world was crashing right in front of you because you didn’t win this tournament. Even if you defeat me, I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to throw a fit. In my heart, it will sting that I didn’t win, but at least, I lost to a woman who I admit was better than me that night. The best thing for me to do is pick myself up, dust myself off and move on with my life. The fact is: you’re not going to win. I refuse to lose to you. I did not come this far in the tournament to lose to a woman who has been nothing, but a thorn in the side of the Ava Family. Consuela vs. Sophia should be different. We don’t have anything weighing ourselves down. You have no excuse to hide from when the results don’t go the way you please. You have no excuse to cushion yourself when you fall from the pedestal you placed yourself on. You’ll have to face the reality that you lost to a woman better than you. Finally, someone was better than Sophia Rose! Sophia Rose is not as mighty as she claims to be! Sophia Rose can be defeated! It will have as much excitement as a knight slaying a beast! The problem was never with me. The problem goes back to you. Perhaps, if you had a better attitude about everything, you would have been a lot more successful. Perhaps, you wouldn’t have gotten your ass beat by Madison Kaline. Perhaps, you could have won the Empire Cup! Perhaps, you can be the first female President of the United States! It’s amazing how far a change of attitude takes you. I mean, I wouldn’t have gotten to the position I am by staying at Cameron’s side. I wouldn’t have gotten to the finals of this tournament if I gave you the slightest amount of compassion I give those in my family. You want to call it confidence? Call it arrogance, confidence, cockiness. I don’t give a damn because it will backfire with you in the end. I’m no longer going to watch people take the things I want. I am done being that Consuela. It’s about time that I start taking things for myself—something I should have done in my very first day in EAW. Well, I’ll start on Thursday. It’s better there than never.

Well here we go first time defending my newly won EAW New Breed Championship - The Wrestling Machine is looking to dominate in fashion once again. This past week on Dynasty, I showed that punk Monroe why I will walk out of Pain for Pride Ten with two titles around my waist. The New Breed division has nothing on me and that's why I destroyed Monroe's "highest prospects" that wants to take me down but he just can't face the facts that these newbies can't take down someone like me. Someone with an armature wrestling background, someone that just put on thirty pounds to bump up to two hundred seventy pounds within the last month of two and is ready to use my body to advantage. Each and every single day I go to the gym and use the gained weight to my use and make it into a positive by turning it into muscle. But let's go down the line.....The Riddler? Heading into Reckless Wiring this dude came in with the hype around him with the video packages playing the week before and the character he is trying to portray on television! But myself? I am not like him, I am not a character! This is who I am! I AM THE WRESTLING MACHINE! People didn't want to lay a finger on my stock before I won the championship that's been eluding me ever since Pain for Pride Nine. Once Reckless Wiring happened and everything was put to rest my stock rose up big time and I guarantee you that stock isn't falling anytime soon! Monroe looks dumber then he actually is ladies and gentleman because right before I won my first championship title here I signed the biggest contract in Dynasty history and I am getting paid millions! One foot was out the door and the other foot was still in, I would have had no problem heading over to Showdown or even Voltage - that's where I started! If I went over there I still could have captured the New Breed Championship but Monroe couldn't let that happen. He wanted the title back on Dynasty so bad, but lucky for him I have big plans in mind for Dynasty. Once I arrived here after the draft lottery, I was an outsider no one wanted to touch me. No one wanted to talk to me, give me advice or sit with me in catering. Once I turned my life upside down and starting laying the pain down on some of these newbies people like Scott Oasis started paying attention and became good friends with me. Now once I became New Breed Champion it's like I am finally allowed to sit at the cool kids table at school, you can tell who's your friend around here and who's not. I am noticing that very quickly, for example the whole New Breed division. Not one of them are my friends, they are my enemies and they will feel my wrath every-time I step into the ring with them. Monroe needs to find someone special to take me down, like Ross Vegas? He tried to save his buddy The Riddler this past week on Dynasty after I landed that F-5 BUT GUESS WHAT? NOTHING! YOU FELT THE SAME PAIN HE DID BUT WORSE, I SNAPPED HIS DAMN ARM IN HALF WHEN I LOCKED THAT MACHINE BREAK IN! IT FELT LIKE I WON THE LOTTERY WHEN HE WAS SCREAMING IN PAIN, I AM GOING TO ENTER GRAND RAMPAGE AND HAVE TWO TITLES AROUND MY WAIST AFTER THE BIGGEST PAIN FOR PRIDE IN HISTORY IS OVER AT METLIFE STADIUM! Let's look at the other stupid New Breed competitors that want a piece of me....how about Cody Marshall? This man said he promised to get his rematch for the New Breed Championship yet my first title defense isn't even against him! First off, let's face the facts on how dumb Monroe is! He wants me champion to keep the title on Friday nights! Second off I don't even want to face Cody Marshall because HE DOESN'T DESERVE A REMATCH! This is my time now Cody, this title is meant to make the division great not to use the title as a stepping stone to further yourself to become the General Manager of Showdown....

To be honest I shouldn't even be defending the New Breed Championship this Friday night on Dynasty, I am bigger then the middle of the card for a show. I am bigger then that, I should be on the posters for Free Per Views like Grand Rampage and main eventing them by defending my prestigious title. But like I said Sebestian Monroe is dumber then he looks ladies and gentleman...Let's just go down to memory lane this past Friday night on Dynasty, Monroe has his own security guards yet Monroe didn't want me to attack those newbies in the New Breed Division, yet Monroe didn't want me to be in the thirty man Grand Rampage match. What do those security guards do? Not lay a single finger on me, they do not grab the pen out of my hands, THEY DO NOT STOP ME FROM SIGNING THAT CONTRACT! LIKE I SAID, MONROE IS MAKING THESE STUPID DECISIONS AND ONE BY ONE EACH NEW BREED NEWBIE WILL BE PUT TO BED AND WILL BE SLAYED BY THE RULER OF THE NEW BREED DIVISION! Now let's address the elephant in the room, the number one contender for the New Breed Championship - Chris Paradise. Who likes to say he is new and improved? Right off the bat you basically told me that you are total shit without stepping into the squared circle, I hope you learned every little single thing you can about wrestling because If you don't you have no shot against me this Friday and you won't because you have nothing on me. Something I don't understand is that you have no shot because on paper, I OUT WEIGH YOU BY NINETY-FIVE POUNDS! HOW STUPID CAN MONROE BE? I CAN'T WAIT TO LAY THE PAIN ON YOU LITTLE NEWBIE! BOW DOWN TO YOUR CHAMPION! What you got Rising Star of the Week to get this title match? I saw that Fatal 4 Way Match last week and honestly it was total shit, Jake Mercer was right because you are going to fall to me, The Wrestling Machine, The Greatest Champion this company has to offer. I am waiting to make that call to the emergency room Chris, it's only a matter of time. Enjoy your fifteen seconds of fame, kid!

You know, they say all men are created equal, but you look at me and you look at me, and you can see that statement is not true! at best at beatin' me! And it seems that this company has forgotten just who the hell I am! My name for all you people who don't know is The Phenomenal ARD! I was here when this all began but this company has not acknowledged be for how great I am and what I brought to the table when I was here. So I sat back for more than a few years waiting for some sort or recognition but have not seen a single thing. So now I come back to TAKE IT. I demand the respect and admiration of the other all time greats! And I will not stop! I'm BACK! and that's not good news for anyone!

(Drops mic)

What's the worst thing that you've been forced to compete in when it comes to this company, Consuela? I understand that the majority of your career has revolved around throw away matches that absolutely nobody else cared about, but there has to be something throughout the past year that has allowed not only those watching you, but even yourself, learn about the pieces of Consuela Rose Ava that haven't been discovered yet. How many times have you been forced to place yourself through unimaginable tortures to inch yourself forward? How many times have you been forced to get used to the foul taste of your own blood? How many times have you forced yourself to get back up when everything else seems absolutely hopeless? Have you actually ever been forced to go above and beyond, Consuela? Have you ever shown the world one piece of yourself that makes you special? Has the world seen anything respectable enough to ensure that you're actually above every name that you believe is under you? But, you'll sit there and talk about the things that I should have done. It doesn't matter if you only had two days to recover from something that I never would have survived! It never should have held any impact in the match! A Sophia Rose that was severely under one hundred percent never should have had trouble against a former Vixen’s Champion! I've managed to beat her when I had absolutely nothing weighing me down, why couldn't you when you were days removed from a greater war than I’m ever going to be forced to fight? Why weren't you there, Consuela? You sit there and talk about how you've been forced to watch people take the opportunities that should have been yours - but, why did you allow yourself to fall short? Your run through that tournament was a whole lot easier that than mine, so why didn't you manage to advance through your group? Was it someone else's fault, Consuela? Did someone else steal that spot of yours - or, and this is the one that I'm going to place my money on - or, were you just not good enough to fight through every name standing in your way? I’ve never once ran away from the reasons of why I haven’t been able to grasp onto the things that I wanted. I underestimated a woman that I didn’t take seriously and it cost me the Empire Cup. It happens. I could sit here with the same mentality that you have. You could have won the Elimination Chamber. You would have done the same as others that have succeeded in the ranks of the division if you were given the same chance. You would have done the same things that have made others great in the past. But, if this business was built off of would have, could have and should have, every single name that walks through the door would have the right to call themselves a champion. What’s going to be the reason for this failure, Consuela? You sit there and pretend that we’re both on the same level, but the sad truth is that we’re not. You’re not close to what I am. You can call it arrogance, overconfidence, cockiness - anything that makes you sleep better at night. But, Consuela, the harsh reality when it comes to this match on Empire is that you’re going to be forced to watch as a physically wear you down. You’re going to be force to feel the same disappointment that you’ve become acquainted with as you feel something that you’ve wanted more than almost anything else in this business slips between your fingers. You’re going to be forced to watch as another person rips something that you believe wholeheartedly should be yours and takes it for themselves. I could sit here and smile; I could hype all of this up as far as I could - CONSUELA ROSE AVA AGAINST SOPHIA ROSE! DON’T MISS IT! But, what’s the point. At this stage, I’d rather just call my shot. Just like I did last week. Sophia Rose defeats Consuela Rose Ava to win this contender tournament. Sophia Rose going onto Pain for Pride and beats the Specialist Champion. Sophia Rose does all of that while Consuela Rose Ava sits back gritting her teeth as she believes that it should have been her.

Dynasty promo #1


(The scene opens inside the mansion home of EAW's Social Media Champion "Picture Perfect" Mark Michaels. It here in the Mediterranean style estate that sits in the heart of Beverly Hills, that we find Michaels sitting down on his (exorbitantly priced) sofa, intently reviewing the New Breed fatal fourway from last week's Dynasty. Specifically the closing moments of the match.)



Jake Mercer: "... Screen cracker! Screen Cracker!!!"

(Michaels leans in as the ref slides to make the count)


Stew-O: "Finnegan Wakefield pulls Michaels out of the ring before the three! Finnegan is desperate... look at the expression on his face.. he has the full Nelson locked in!"


Jake Mercer: "Andromeda on the outside!!! Finnegan may have just killed Mark Michaels!!!"


( the video pauses abruptly. Michaels sits quietly for a moment, a sour scowl painted on his face. Slowly he gets up off the couch and takes a deep breath in.)


Michaels: "Son of a bitch! Oh that limey little asshole is in for it this week. Johnny get in here!"


(Michaels' agent Johnny J, enters the room with a confused look to him)


Johnny: "Mark what's the matter?"


Michaels: "what's the matter?! I want you to book the next flight to St. Louis A.S.A.P so that I can focus all my energy into prepping for this Friday night, that's the matter! I have a ship load worth of whoop was to unload on Finnegan Wakefield, and I went the bell rings on Dynasty, that's is exactly what I'm gonna do! That boy is in for an ass kicking the likes of which the entire state of Missouri has never before seen. He thinks that just because he realized far too late that he had no chance of winning that four way match, that he can drop me on my head on the concrete floor and almost end my career?! He thinks that he can just try to make a name for himself by putting out the most popular competitor in EAW right now and not have to answer for his actions?! Well than he sure as hell has another thing coming to him, because right now I fell like a caged lion just waiting to be let loose so he can tear apart his pray to tiny, itty, bitty pieces till the only thing that remains of him is a hot, steaming pile of shit! Nobody, and I mean nobody, tries to cripple me and gets away with it! I am too important to this company, and this Industry to nearly end up in a wheel chair, courtesy of some low level, curtain jerking, sideshow, third banana, who would sacrifice the good of this great sport just so he could get his fifteen minutes of people remembering his name.


I tell you something John, Finnegan Wakefield made one of those damned if you do or don't decision last Friday. See if he actually would have have gotten his way, and sent me to the injured reserve, well he would have been hunted down everywhere he went by the legions of followers that have pledged themselves to me on social media. He would have been looking over his shoulders every minute because the moment he would have been spotted, the very next would see him being torn to shreds by the millions upon millions who would have carried out this vendetta in my name. But as luck, well luck for lack of a better word that combined skill, toughness, and the fact that Finn's technique is sloppy as all hell, I walked away PERFECTLY fine. So now that the bastard not only showed just how gutless and yellow he truly is, but robbed me of my New Breed Championship bout this week, I am gonna plant my boot so far up his Union Jack ass, he'll be spitting up leather for a week! This Friday night, I am going to show that Soho shithead exactly what happens when someone tries to stand in the way of Mark Michaels getting what he desires and deserves! Finn is gonna regret costing me that match with Lucas Johnson. He is gonna wish he had never crossed paths with me. After I am done beating his ass all over the Scott Trade center, the only way he's gonna make it to Grand Rampage, is if his nurse rolls his wheelchair on down the entrance ramp! Finnegan Wakefield made a big mistake in screwing with me, and an even bigger one by agreeing to step between the ropes on Dynasty.


I cannot tell you just how focused on eradicating this vermin that dwells in the locker room. I am already chomping at the bit for the moment the referee calls for the opening bell, because when he does, than the mauling of Finn Wakefield begins. And with it, I will be putting every other overhyped, overrated, underdeveloped dickhead in the back on notice. Mark Michaels will not be denied what is rightfully his, and it doesn't matter if you're one of Sebastian Monroe's yes men, or a first ballot hall of famer like Jacob Senn, or even a good for nothing opening match peon like Finnegan Wakefield, not a single man, woman, child, or even an act of God is going to keep me from that belt.

And once I'm done doing the world a favor and putting Finn out of all of our misery, I'm gonna roll right into Barcelona, and run like a bull thru twenty nine of EAW's best to stand alone at the absolute of the mountain they call Elite Answers Wrestling, and challenge for the biggest prize in the entire industry at the biggest show this company has. When I step forward at Pain For Pride, it will be to correct a long standing wrong, and fulfill a life long Destiny, by wearing world championship gold around my perfect waist. That is exactly what will happen, because that is what a superior athlete such as myself, who has put as much hard work and effort as I have gets! It is what is due to me after all the long nights spent on the road, every hour working in the gym, every bump and bruise I've taken in every single match I have been in. That is the reward that is awaiting me, because I have planted seeds of of greatness, and The crops are just about ready for harvest. Now is the time of year when the greats of the sport cement their names in the annals of history, and when the ultimate tale is told of who is the greatest professional wrestler to ever step between the ropes, you better believe that they won't be taking about a no talent, hanger on like Finn Wakefield. No, they will be taking about the man whose god given gifts of speed, strength, technical skill, and boundless charisma are unmatched by any, the man who is known thru out the world as Perfect, because no one is better, Mark Michaels!

And if Finn is gonna stick his fingers in his ears, and try that old tired line about how I'm not actually saying something, then I will be more than happy to spell it out nice and clear for him, when I plant his fucking head into the mat over and over, again and again, until he gets the goddamn message that you really don't want to fuck with Mark Michaels. You know the same guy who took V's mask and used it as a poop scoop for his dog, the same guy who took Trent Yodder's kid just to let him know he could never get one over on me, the guy who's gonna crack Finnegan Wakefield's goddamn skull live on Dynasty! And once I leave that overrated chump laying in the center of the ring staring up at the lights, I am gonna take a quick selfie before moving on to Grand Rampage, where I'm gonna do it to every other son of a bitch who's stupid enough to stand in the ring and try to oppose me and my destiny.


We are just a few stop signs away from the road to pain for pride, and you better believe that it will be peddle to the metal once we get there, so there will be no need for dead weight like Finnegan Wakefield. So this Friday night, I am gonna kick his ass to the curb.


Finn, you best prepare for an A-List ass kicking, courtesy of the Twitter Trendsetter, the Instagram Icon, the Hashtag Hero who will stand valiantly as he vanquishes a knight who has no honor or nobility to his name. The crossover superstar who has become a household name and transcended the sport of professional wrestling. The man who has stood toe to toe with the best that EAW has to offer, took their best shots, and sent them home crying to their mamas. The man who is hands down the single greatest professional athlete to ever grace the ring with his presence. The man who has cultivated an army of followers who have made him the Undisputed Social Media Champion. The brightest burning star that this company will ever know, and most importantly the man who is gonna crush Finnegan Wakefield into powder on his way to the Grand Rampage, "Picture Perfect" Mark Michaels!

Oh and Finn, because I know you're watching, this Friday I am gonna make you my bitch In that ring, so why don't you start Picturing THAT!"


Johnny: "Okay, I'll see what's leaving out of L.A.X. Right now."


(Johnny turns and exits the room, as Michaels turns his attention back towards the monitor and replays the Andromeda to the outside.)


FADE TO BLACK.

Just another drop in the bucket? Not quite. An obstacle is what this coming weekend will be for this elitist, no doubt. Another obstacle that I'm looking forward to, another chance to find out how much I want what lies just beyond the bend following the Grand Rampage match...a chance to compete for the Answers World Championship at Pain For Pride X. The many weeks that have turned into months on end seemingly have brought upon the very things that will only continue to contribute to my growth, things that I cherish greatly, and that's experience along with maturity, things that in the long run will prove to be as fruitful as the future triumphs, and perhaps defeats, I shall inevitably see again down the road as I have up to this point. It would be of my own folly to become too presumptuous to things I already know would lead to my own undoing. So I think it goes without saying that the other seven competitors that comprise of this next obstacle will all seek to make an emphatic statement of their own just as I will. Certainly the rise of King Tiberius, The King of Thieves, and his handpicked Guards, have become nothing more than a cheap imitation of the once power hungry Hexa-Gun faction so far, version two if you will. It's said that those who have power, their lone fear usually is of losing that power. Losing control almost beyond all comprehension. The same fear that if those who don't manage to control the outcome of future events, something unfortunate will happen at their expense. They fear, therefore they become chronic sufferers from such losing-control anxiety keeping themselves continuously in a heightened state of stress with only brief, unsatisfying intermissions between fears...fears of losing all that power. The crux of the problem is the demand for certainty in a world that is always tentative and uncertain. It is precisely this unrealistic demand that creates the anxiety. You think that you must accurately predict and manage the future, not just have some probabilistic and uncertain handle on it. So, people with losing-control anxiety, they will try in earnest to become perfectionists. They demand perfect certitude-or near perfect certitude, and when they don't get it they worry and ruminate about it. This is a formula for a roller coaster ride that never ends until, of course, you perish. Doesn't that bother you Tiberius? Doesn't it bother you just a bit even that with all your success that you now have to form an entourage just to ensure that you can take that last grand step just to immortalize yourself? It does, doesn't it? You musn't be denied anymore. It must've bothered you to no end in the past to be able to down someone like Ares Vendetta and not be able to cash in on him, because someone like Lioncross was clever enough to remove the contract from the briefcase. It must've been so agonizing to watch as a proven winner such as Devan Dubian was able to keep you from being able to compete in the Extreme Elimination Chamber. It must've drove you near mad to watch as someone as intelligent as Lannister was able to outsmart and leapfrog you to get the top with that very briefcase that was never yours to begin with, didn't it? But the final straw was at Reasonable Doubt, wasn't it? Never again you insist! Too many setbacks, enough was enough you insisted. The King of Thieves mantra was becoming a farce. The taste of failure after failure to reach the top was driving you near mad crazy, so you create the King's Guard to ensure that your unrealized destiny is no longer interrupted. I have no doubt in my mind whatsoever that your King's Guard will look to interject themselves so you can try to steal another one. But when chips are at their highest, Tiberius, and you try to change the narrative to fit the script, but this time the script is gonna be flipped, and re-written!

I find myself speaking a whole lot about adversity, and the things I've had to overcome, but I guess none of it really truly has been career threatening, not like the kind you have to endure through, Pizza Boy. Even as our paths are destined to cross more than once in this match, it isn't other guys in this match, names like Elite, or Grier, or Stark, or Nobi that I think of when it comes to adversity. If anyone has personified the poster boy image for the walking wounded, it's been you by a large margin. You're this living, breathing, human target that seemingly everyone is out to destroy, and yet, you press on, you find meaning to come back to do what you love to do even if it means coming out looking worse than than someone whose just been in a car wreck. The drive, and passion you show is inspirational for guys like me who don't know how to back down, or how to quit. Your aspirations this year are as big as mine. We both want to enter that event with one of the best shots at winning it. We'll go to war in that ring, and we'll fight for this last spot at the annual Grand Rampage event. I have no problem fighting the good fight against you. You a made believer out of me a long while back. There's no reason to throw shade at someone like you that inspires me to push myself as I do, not to someone who I hold in the utmost respect for. There is a Rex Effect waiting for you just as there would be anyone else. I won't discriminate just as I know you won't. This coming Saturday though, the special delivery? This one's on me.

Part of the reason why it's so easy to find the motivation to step into that ring is the art of competition, it gives me purpose, a reason to push myself to new heights one week building off the last. I love it! I love showing that I love it with an intense passion! It's not so much that others don't, but for some it simply comes down to the mere outlook that they have of themselves and the very competition that they see weekly that differentiates those that have a true purpose, and those that don't. Chris, do you think this attitude change of yours is the answer to all your problems? Chris, you've been looking for the solution to get back to where you were back in November, and the best answer that you managed to come up with was a persona that quite frankly wasn't getting you anywhere before you won the New Breed Championship. You reverted back to the same big mouth, trash talking, that amounted to very little success for you Chris. I get it though, if something isn't working you need to fix it, but you haven't in fact fixed anything. All you've done so far is satisfy the partisan of your fan club that appears to be of none but one, Big Mike, who you should've guessed wasn't going to be authorized in any capacity to aid you in that ring. Chris, when this Grand Rampage comes up, it's another opportunity, sure, but only another that's going to go south on you without any reward to reap from it. The momentum you've lost isn't the main reason, but it's for starters. Your success, your failures, they will tell the true story of Chris Elite here in Elite Answers Wrestling as they do for everyone else, and this Saturday once again it's win, or take that familiar long slow walk back to the locker room to go back to the drawing board.

Thinking back at moment to Gold Mine, Lars, I have to say for someone who wanted nothing but to walk out with the National Elite Championship, on your first try, Lars, you did exceptional. You didn't surprise me one bit with anything and everything you did in trying to stake your claim for higher recognition in this company, but then again the changes that you are at least having a small impact that hopefully is going to lead to something bigger in the future. The key word in all that is impact, because the name Lars Grier is after all a battle royal specialist so far in his career, a perfect record to boot. Me, I've not had the same kind of success unfortunately, but that hardly matters to me when I know that all the hungry challengers that have been knocking at my doorstep lately are all trying to do the same thing as you will try to do, and that's get one over on me, perhaps trying to strip me of my dignity out there, looking for redemption. You can do what you wish, just as you did at Gold Mine, Lars, but the truth of the matter is, like any other big moment you've had to kick the door in...the truth is though, and I know you know this, but fate...fate is getting the best of you time and again, Lars. I mean look, now even a rookie like Danny Stone can bring up the name Lars Grier, Manifestation of Destruction, and speak in a good light just as you would on your best day. However, you know, you can brag to your heart's desires about your gaudy record in battle royals, and stake your claim to that number 30 spot, but really it would be to your best interest to just not count all your chickens before they hatch.

Nobi, you got one over on me some weeks back, and really I can't blame you for it. I must say I've been on the other end just as you were in our match, and obviously to win like that takes away the thrill of the win, no doubt about that, but I am back to redeem that loss. This time there won't be any other man interjecting themselves in the middle of our slug it out affair, and that's really for the best because if you get to the end at my expense without all that tomfoolery involved then I can move on and feel good for the experience this time around. I know you've been a good and patient third wheel in the Stuffed Crust, but this might be your time to breakout, even at the expense of your comrade, PB. There is no sense in not going for the win with a match like this that has all the same rules as the hunger games.

Ah, Ryan Marx! You ruined my Christmas vacation my friend! I could've received all the best gifts a human being my age could ask for this year, an Apple watch, a playstation VR, or one of those rad awesome Seek Thermal Vision Cameras that would help me learn all about the world from an infrared perspective, and still wouldn't have been happy, but you know what, Ryan? I did myself in back then, and I reaped what I sowed. There's no hard feelings from this end really, not when all your talk of taking the New Breed division up a notch turned into a downright lie. But hey, at least you made being a one and done champion look better than I did, and you gave Lannister a hell of a run too, just as I did. The thing is, Ryan, you are now this insincere, almost indifferent, Zeigist. In a way you are this self-made narcissistic, blowhard who can't seem to manufacture a single dominant belief that can see youthrough to the dark dominion you seek to set upon this place. Your efforts have largely been in vain, and the only reason you can or would even say otherwise would only prove to be for not, trust me on that. You so badly want your word be gospel, and yet all you've received lately is ammunition that belies the obvious about you? You've been made, you're attack has become weakened, and you've become too transparent. That's why deep down, regardless if you choose to argue the point, you decided to advance to a more less known mentality to attack opposition with in hopes of re-establish momentum that you have slowly been losing as time passes. Don't worry, Ryan, we'll argue all week about this again just like we did during the holidays, but only before sending you into the annual Grand Rampage without that little aformentioned tangible that's vital at this time of year...momentum.

You know, Stark, you had it coming. Last week may have felt bad in all the right places for you, and left you with a bad taste in your mouth? But if we're being honest here, and we are, than you would know that something like mutual respect is earned. You've garnered this reputation as being unreliable, it's out there. I didn't pull the the stuff I said last week straight out of my derriere. It's foolish of you to return and present yourself as you did, looking for respect as if you had never left, and I think it can be poisonous. Humility is nobility, Stark. Finding superiority over your former self, and if you have found that then as I've already stated to you previous, the goals you seek to achieve will happen. It would sure help though if people could be more conventional when it comes to respect. Like, respect yourself, that way others would feel more inclined to as well? Stark, I so badly want to believe in you, because then that way I can talk to you, and about you in a more positive light. Right now, you are still going to try to force the issue knowing it's a big moment to break away from the pack, get that number 30 spot where the sky is the limit to how your night at Grand Rampage could end if you play your cards right. Slow down, Stark, that's all I tell you at this time.

Every opportunity you get is just another reason to prove a point, because with every one that fields difficulty takes you a step further in finding out who you are, and what you are made of. Opportunities have been presented to this elitist, but more have been made by simply stepping up and giving it everything necessary to succeed and then some. Patience has been this long standing friend that supports me every step of the way. It's kept me calm no matter what has happened or may happen, constantly taking action presenting me with this positive vibe, which has been a true measure of why I keep succeeding when it seems from afar like I'm destined to fail. At one point or another others have been critical of my approach, but I was able to see through that. I could see that it was to help me all along, to enable me to reach higher so I had the opportunities to grasp on to more. This pre-Rampage battle royal, it's not just another drop in the bucket, but then again, is anything? So like I said previous, I'll continue to dream as I'm awake, and the leap of faith? I'm excited, let's see where it takes me.