Boy oh boy, has time flown by.
 
It’s ridiculously mind-blogging to recognize that a week ago today, I capped off a 5 month stint in EAW. That is nearly half a year’s worth of weekly granted opportunities to beat the shit outta’ people who wish it upon themselves when they willingly sport a stance in the opposite corner of the ring from yours truly. Now, one could argue that for a man of my peculiar background, the transition from the murky streets of Turkey to the bright lights of professional wrestling in good ol’ America surely proved to be a daunting one. But I’m here to lay that scratchable itch to rest; it wasn’t, that much. Granted, it initially looked the part; the pressure of being surrounded by thousands of ardent devotees, shooting their cameras’ flash on anything that they can go home and talk to their friends or family about. Knowing you’re bound to pocket that same reaction everytime you go out there is enough to send chills of doubt and second guesses up and down the backbone of any up-and-coming talent. So yeah, the symptoms of instant failure before actually stepping in the door were easily attainable at that point in time. Fortunately however, I managed to brush off the taste as soon as my debut came to a close. Hell, I even found that pressure to be more exhilarating than poignant afterwards. That’s one of the main reasons why I never take anybody else’s word for a journey I’m about to embark on, or anything else for that matter. They will only care to list what wronged them in their own experience and then proceed to stress on it as if you’re necessarily destined for the same fate. Before I got to the ‘States, I was fed numerous myths and stories that paint the wrestling scene to be an impenetrable jungle where a miniature selection of god-like individuals are afforded survival, while the rest is hastily expunged from it all together. Howbeit, all of that hype fell on deaf ears on my side as I carried on with the decision of making it into this business, while a newly ignited desire to prove them myths and stories wrong burns within. From that point onward, the transition was handled in the most seamless manner; I did not have to adjust my conduct to some corporately forged workplace standards. I did have to adjust my fighting style though, so it can fit the bill of a fair wrestling bout that the whole family can sit in a circle to enjoy; not sure I’ve gotten the hang of it just yet either, but it’s a work in progress nonetheless.
 
So yeah, I learned my way through most of the ropes of Elite Answers Wrestling pretty quickly when I first started out. That’s why you’d rarely see me without a jolly facial expression on, not only because I had garnered so much knowledge about this industry in such a short time span; but also because I enjoyed it all through and through. Contrary to what the marketing suits want you to believe, I’m actually a pretty chill guy. Sure, when that statement escapes the lips of someone who openly admitted to committing some…Questionable actions in his past; the logical approach to take is call him out on a poorly executed lie. And that’d be completely understandable IF I was the ONLY man to have done shit that his slightly matured, current self regrets, but I of course am not. Strip me off that dark past of mine, and I’m the mellowest motherfucker around since Elvis Presley before he got all bulky. However apparently, a certain bitter deadbeat chose to put the metal of that comparison to the test; JD Damon. Ever since last month’s Fighting Spirit, and more precisely the confrontation that I imposed on Damon when he was neck deep in celebration of his victory against Kenny Drake, nerves have been visibly struck in the man one at a time. At first, he didn’t appreciate somebody of my stature on the roster hogging the spotlights that were supposed to shine upon how great of a pure champion he perceives himself to be. His frustration was only further aggravated when I beat him in the middle of the ring a week later to advance in The Gold Rush tournament; so much so that he had to screw me out of a spot in the finals of said tournament by blindsiding me with a steel chair. Keep in mind; I did not share the same perception as JD about this whole situation between us. To be honest, I was not half as invested in it as Damon seemingly is. True, I was serious about the pure division deserving a better representative than a self-absorbed and overly spoiled brat. To be frank however, it was merely touched on as food for thought at that stage, seeing that I had bigger things like the Answers World title to channel my full focus on. That’s what I did and that’s what brought me SO close, like inches away close, to contend for a chance at the title last Sunday on Voltage. BUT of course, JD Damon couldn’t bear being ousted from his position as the brand’s hottest prospect and thus, chose to hand out Nick Angel the chance instead.
 
You may be wondering why I’m so calm and oddly collected as I indulge in the process of reciting the opportunity of a lifetime escaping my grasp due to the interference of a man stupidly consumed by jealousy, a man who I also happen to have already defeated. I think I’ve carved way too many vivid traces of my character in the hearts and minds of those who follow it NOT to rage out at JD Damon’s involvement and lose my voice in repeatedly promising to rip his head clean off the next time we meet. Not utilizing that as a means of pushing such points across is very…Not Carson Ramsay of me to an extent. Howbeit while I may often rely on pure instinct and arousing temptations in how I seek to carry myself around, anomalies can be arranged for me to instead be rational and weigh in my options. I mean, why on earth would I want to waste breath on wording out a preview of what’s to come on Reckless Wiring, when I can be patient for a couple more days and reveal the final cut to Damon in person? Plus, it would most likely be arduous to fulfill a true description of what awaits JD Damon from the imminent consequence for his actions, in just a rant. Not only would it take time, it would require the imagination of a rocket scientist, the fortitude of a horror novel writer and the understanding of an executioner. At this very moment, Damon is probably clinging to the leather of his title belt ever so tightly; hearing my voice uttering these words and academically picturing the battlefield of Reckless Wiring as it unfolds before his very eyes. Whether I’m tasked with racking up 2 more pinfalls over you in a 2 out of 3 Falls match, choking the wind out of your sails in a submission match or dragging your lifeless corpse around the mat in my personal favorite, a Dog collar match; the result will be the same, but you won’t. No, the JD Damon walking into that arena in Kansas City will not compare to the JD Damon crawling out of it.
 
Oh, jeez. Did I say crawl? I meant walk. Yes…Walk. We don’t want to dig too deep into the details prior to them transpiring, now do we?
 
Not only will JD Damon leave The Sprint Center lacking the pure title strapped to his waist, but he will also leave it a disfigured entity. By disfigured, I don’t mean it on a physical scale; that’s a given. JD Damon will be rendered a disfigured soul, forever scarred by the bruises of his own mistakes. I forewarned JD Damon about this before; when you cross my path towards something as career-defining as an Answers World title opportunity, expect to be stretchered out to the other side. However, he predictably did not listen. I’m pretty certain that he’ll maintain this attitude all week leading up to Reckless Wiring this weekend as well. He won’t listen for the same reason that he dared to even consider the thought of costing me the tournament. Whatever sense that roamed his mind once has been completely depleted by the fantasy in which he’s taken residence nowadays, the fantasy that primarily revolves around JD Damon and JD Damon alone. At this point, it can be debated that I’ve become quite the professional when it comes to handling business with the deluded or generally just self-obsessed. After all, I’ve face dozens of them and I have yet to halve my first year within the company; Clark Duncan, Nick Angel, our beloved new bosses in the Hexa-Gun train and of course, Mister “Purist” JD Damon joins that coveted list this very weekend. However while that resemblance is uncanny, there’s a very distinct difference that’s just as striking between you and that group of people, Damon. Those people managed to usually weasel their way out of a direct confrontation, by the stroke of what some would call a veteran’s touch. You on the other hand JD, you’re deficient in that regard. You’re not savvy nor as cunning, surprisingly. You’re almost as green in that field as I am, which will only ease the operation of annihilating your reign as Pure champion and shortening the span of your career, if not ending it. You constantly rely upon statistics to justify whatever pitiful argument that you can muster up, so I bet you’re relishing in the fact that I’ve already beaten you before. By all means though, keep promising to make me a statistic. I’ll worry about how I’m making you a mere name inked on the record sheets come this weekend.

A utopia.

That's the underlying promise every politician who runs for office makes. That they will bring their state, or country, as close to a utopia as humanly possible. 

It's what every collective of people long for the most... finding heaven on Earth. But heaven is different for every man, an ideal society for every person would require 7 billion ideal societies. And any politician, or religious leader; any promisemaker who's promises sound convincing enough to a wide enough range of people will be handed the power and authority over the land and over other peoples lives. That's what's considered "fair" in the today's first world. Such is democracy.

But what most people don't realize is that even these promise makers are chosen for us. We are given the illusion of choice. We are given a list of names selected for us, and are told essentially to pick our poison. Even at Reckless Wiring, every year the lie is propagated that the "power is in the peoples hands!" We tell the EAW Universe every year that our fate lies in their hands, and our success -- or lack of -- is contingent to the whims of the general public. And what serves as corroboration? Just predecided names on a ballot. There's your "freedom". There's your "choice". Don't bother to write in what benefits  you and you alone, you need to capitulate for the greater good. But thus lies the Free Choice Delusion -- the lie firmly planted into the minds of the public that they truly have a choice! But that's so far from the truth... this Reckless Wiring, it couldn't be any further. In today's world, where slacktivism is at an all time high and armchair heroes can be seen in every corner, the consensus now is that you can have a revolution by ballots. But every revolution prior to now have been achieved by bullets. Brute force has won the war when words couldn't. Democracy is nothing new. It simply takes a backseat when push comes to shove. And in EAW, in 2016, Hexa-Gun has underlined the infidelity of democracy. It's futile. It's waning, in war times. In war times, you can't solve conflict by ballots. You have to take up arms even when you promised you'd never do it again. That's how you get your utopia. You create it! You create utopia! If you manage to do that and live to tell the tale, you become a deity!

 By all means, I encourage people to go out and vote. Vote for your Reckless Wiring polls! Choose from your predetermined batch of options, except for those Hexa-Gun matches, though! Can't put their best interests in jeopardy!    Hexa-Gun has made it perfectly clear that they exist only for their preconceived utopia. Not for anyone else! They don't care about the kind of world they create for anyone else! They don't give a damn about anybody who isn't aligned with their agenda, and why should they, right? It's not like they need people on their side. Y2Impact has made it perfectly clear that this campaign, this insurrection against the order he himself has established all for the resurrection of 'Extreme', this has NOTHING to do with your benefit. This benefits no one but him. This is just about feeding the machine. It's just nuts and bolts. But still he halfheartedly undertakes the guise of a messiah while playing the role as the rejected pariah who holds the antidote to some sleeping ''sickness'' in the body of EAW, but is unjustly rejected for his so-called valor. But you're better off not mentioning this so-called ''disease'' of Elitism is the same one he helped instill. After all, you wouldn't wanna be a ''misinformist.'' That's Y2Impact for you, though. He says one thing, but his actions speak differently. Hell, his words speak different, his tune changes at a moment's notice, he can't even manage to win people over the way Zack Crash was able to because he has absolutely NO consistency. His approach is lackadaisical, he's completely unconvincing, because his ever-changing rhetoric is constantly challenged by his schizophrenic conduct. At least Zack Crash knew how to sway people! At least Zack Crash's lies were consistent. But already Impact has gone from the benevolent liberator to those who are oppressed by "Elitism" and simply don't know it, to boldly stating that the EAW Universe and anyone on the EAW Roster who opposes him are nothing more than hummingbirds chirping, or brainless, petulant morons! Look I'm not going to bear the mask of a man who's never lashed out against my opposers, nonbelievers, and critics; I won't pretend I haven't drawn the ire of the EAW Universe before, as if I haven't mercilessly persecuted anyone who dared stand against me. I don't wear a suit. I don't wear a mask. I don't have a squeaky clean image, because I'm not a changing face, with rotating expressions, vacillating between deliverer and accuser, and providing a revolving door of substance-less false promises like Y2Impact. I'm no chameleon, I don't adapt as necessary, my tone varies not, my tune varies not. I am what I am.

You know it's dawned on me, EAW has had a slew of "Battle for the Company's" over the last number of years. It seems like we get a "Battle for the Company" every FPV. I know I'm not the only one who notices it. The fate of EAW has been put on the line so much, the concept in itself is starting to become redundant. Although the anticipation for Match of the Universe 2 is through the roof, matching if not surpassing it's predecessor, the gravity of the situation and all that's at stake behind this match is being undermined. That's because the power structure has destabilized. What was once groundbreaking is now trivial. When Scott Diamond conquered EAW, it was powerful for all the wrong reasons. Now people have become so disenfranchised to the whole concept of authority, they don't seem to realize just how problematic Hexa-Gun gaining complete control would be. But the reason why things are this way is because it's become too easy. Becoming the authority in EAW has become the same as being the "GOAT", or a "God", or "Best in the World." It's become a new target for entitlement. And in 2016 EAW, entitlement has no boundaries. Anyone can talk the same game. Anybody can rise up from the woodwork and boldly proclaim that this land is for their taking. Anyone with seniority can say they've established all of this. CM Banks and Mak can come back right now and claim all of this belongs to them. Dark Demon and Jaywalker can waltz back into this company calling themselves the greatest of all time, like they never left, and were never humbled. Hexa-Gun can manage to come away with complete control of EAW and revisit and revise history as they see fit. It's what false prophets do best. They aggrandize all that they're worth, and they'll shut out any rebuttal by waving around their seniority, and past accomplishments because it's their saving grace; but they're not changing the game the way I change it every single day, with every breath that I take. That's the truth Imp, and you know it. That's why when you asked "what has 'God' accomplished that made you worthy of people's trust?" You had an answer for that in the same breath. You want to know what I've accomplished that made me more worthy of people's trust? A whole hell of a lot more than you have.

What you're failing to remember in that mesh of gears, wires and short-circuiting circuit boards in that inflated head of yours is one thing. No one has fought more for the honor and integrity of EAW and "Extreme" more than me. You speak as if your track record backs up anything you're saying at all, but it doesn't whatsoever. You talk as if you've championed EAW and all that it represents or should represent, and you cite your sources with all of the hellacious battles you've competed in. That's perfectly fine and dandy, Impact, but I've stepped up time and time again when EAW, Extreme, and everything it stood for was on the fucking CHOPPING BLOCK. When no one wanted to stand up to Scott Diamond and The Iron Fist, I was the first to take a stand while you were absentee! When ACW reared it's ugly head and waged war on EAW, Extreme, and all of the values you now so claim to embody, I took up arms for EAW when I had no obligation to! And oh the irony, because when EAW was threatened by enemy forces, it was you who stood on enemy lines. You proved time and time again that you would auction off everything that mades EAW great before, and here you come around with your empty promises of "Making EAW Great Again." You wear the suit of the everyman's candidate, not me, but as history shows, the suit doesn't fit! I know damned well that if this company were ever uner your complete control, you'd just as soon auction off the good name of this company again so long as the price is right. After all, you're still confined to the menial role of an opportunist. Credible to a mortal man machine, but menial, to a God. To a God, who can thrive in most inconvenient conditions, opportunity needs not present itself. But a tin can like you can't say the same. You're still getting ahead the only way you know how. You undertake the role of a "Machine", that's all you can say, "Machine" "Machine" "Machine" as if you've somehow been granted validation and immortality by it. You've freefallen into the singularity not even understanding that machines are mortal too. Haven't you seen the Iron Giant? I promise you, when I'm finished with you, you'll end up just like that giant, except your death will be far less valiant, and I'll leave nothing left. Nothing fucking left. No nuts, no bolts, no remaining body parts for you to piece yourself back together. You're FINISHED. Anything I left behind from the match-that-shall-not-be-named will be finished off. It's sad that you're still compensating for a legacy that is deteriorating and slowly dying by any means necessary. It's clear to me that's what all of this has been about. But at this point I can't even hold it against you, Impact. I get it, sometimes the best course is to "fight the good fight" when it's convenient for you. But for you to turn around and spread propaganda propagating this lie in your piss poor, shoddy attempts at me.... all under the pretense of me supposedly betraying these said principles that you never bothered to lift a FINGER to protect... After ALL OF THE YEARS I SPENT RISKING LIFE AND LIMB -- RISKING MY FUCKING NECK TO PROTECT THIS! AFTER ALL OF THE TIME I WASTED GIVING EVERYTHING I HAD TO DEFENDING EAW, JUST FOR IT TO BE RIPPED AWAY FROM ME BY ZACK CRASH, JUST TO HAVE THE MASSES TURN AGAINST ME AND NOT REALIZE THEIR MISTAKE UNTIL IT'S TOO LATE -- I DON'T NEED A TURNCOAT PIECE OF TRASH LIKE YOU TRYING TO VILIFY ME.

''HONEST AND TRANSPARENT''? IN WHAT REALM??? WHAT WORLD ARE YOU LIVING IN??? No.. no, no, no, no, no way. There's no GODDAMNED fucking way I'm letting you get off now. There's no way I'll allow you to mill about disparaging and defiling my name and blotting out every passage of text in the history books that accounts for all of the work I've put in to selflessly defend this company. A company that I've lived perfectly without before, and a company that my legacy alone will outlive. I'll be goddamned now if a wolf in shepherd's clothing get's ANY more power over this land. I know I broke my vows with HRDO to never act outside of self interest again, but in this case it'll do me as much good as it would anyone else to see to it that Hexa-Gun and all of it's glory is unceremoniously dumped in the wastebasket next to the names of the likes of The Ironfist, The Enterprise, House of Rengades, Project EGO, and any other force, singular or plural that crossed hairs with LET ALONE provoked me! THAT'S MY RAP SHEET! THERE'S MY TRACK RECORD! THOSE ARE MY ACCOMPLISHMENTS! WHAT ELSE YOU GOT? I'M IMPERVIOUS TO YOUR POROUS ATTACKS! THEY DON'T PUT A CHINK ON GOD'S ARMOR. Unlike you, Elitism is no threat to me. I don't have to turn against Extreme, or Elite, or any part of the established order. I'm sorry that you can't survive in a different environment, but you know what they say Impact, you have two choices in this life. Adapt or perish. Unless you're me of course. I don't have to change the system, the system adapts to my whim. The rule of thumb bends under my thumb. The world around me adapts as I go about. Elitism and Extremism doesn't mean a damn to me. I've dominated both eras, I can dominate any era. Every era is MY era. I'm omnipotent.

 I am the Alpha and the Omega. I am without beginning and without end. In this world, I am immortal. I will never die. My presence is forever. My essence is forever. Everything is of my-esque. That ring is my-esque. Reckless Wiring is my-esque. That stage is my-esque. Your name in lights is my-esque. Pain for Pride is my-esque. This world of which we inhabit is all by my design. You are molded after me. You have been created in my image. Everything down to the way people get on the mic and cut fucking 'promos' are influenced by me! I am the father of professional wrestling as it exists today. This empire was built by my fucking hands, and I won't let your grubby little hands snatch the crown from my head. I won't allow you to take this kingdom away from me. You reside in GOD'S Kingdom! Hexa-Gun is a SCRAP HEAP IN GOD'S KINGDOM. IT MAY NOT BE APPARENT NOW, BUT IT WILL BE DAMNED NEAR PALPABLE IN THE END. YOUR POWER IS FLEETING, YOUR CONTROL IS FLEETING, THE HEGEMONIC ORDER OF THE HEXA-GUN IS FLEETING, AND THE OPPRESSIVE, MILITANT MACHINE HAS NOW COME FACE TO FACE WITH IT'S DEUS EX MACHINA!!! THAT'S GOD!!!!!!! 

 
 
Sometimes I like to reflect on where I’ve been. Going back to Texas this week brought back a lot of memories for me. Maybe it did for Claudia, too. After all, we’re just two Texas girls who love to tangle. There’s never been a time in my life where I didn’t want to do what I’m doing right now. I remember years back when EAW came through Dallas. I saved up for weeks to go see the likes of Claudia Michaels and Kendra Shamez. When you’re young all you can do is watch and dream about reaching that stage. I was right on the cusp of starting my amateur career back then, and it was hard not to look up to the best in the world. But here I am years later with the Heart Break Gal challenging me for a title. Back then I might have gone blue in the face talking about how awesome this opportunity was. Now, months into a career with EAW that has put me in the ring with her time and time again, I’m over it. Because there comes a time in your life when you discover that many of the heroes of your youth are actually just assholes. No, this isn’t the story of the bully and the girl she’s picked on. This is just two stubborn women who can’t let it go.

You spend time talking about how you’re tired of facing me, and then you decide to flip flop back to other direction. But the thing that has never changed about me is that I always stand up. There’s been a moment in my career where I’ve been knocked down and thought I’d never be able to get back to my feet. If that day ever does comes, I hope I can handle it with the grace and dignity of someone who knows they really did leave everything out in that ring. But that’s years down the road for me. The lone piece of motivation I can get from analyzing HBG anymore is longevity. Even when she’s stepped away, she has come right back swinging. Even when she’s lost a title, she’s found a way to keep fighting. That’s exactly what I’ve done. And we aren’t the same. I wouldn’t dare compare us. We operate in different ways, we think in different ways. But at the end of the day it always comes down to us ripping at each other’s throats. And very rarely has something just completely given to decide the outcome of the match. I could dare to say that if we were locked in a cage, the match might never end. Because we’re both too stubborn to just give up, and we both take a great deal of punishment, practically driving us to a point where we can’t function before someone can beat us. When the match is just the two of us, that is.
 
But to tell the truth, there isn’t a reason to even focus on those past matches. You’ve said it before, you have done your due diligence in the matches between us so nothing I can ever do will make a difference. Oh, except this. There’s that whole extra motivation factor this time. No one ever really wants to admit it, but we are all pushed to even higher limits when the stakes are risen. For me, it’s the championship I’ve worked so hard to bring a name to. For you, it’s keeping Hexa-gun not only going strong, but even stronger with control of this whole company. Now you have made your opinion on this title clear in the past, and just to be clear back with you, this match is how I envisioned this title working. If you think about it, this match has been building up for months. We have more of a feud between us than many of the other titles can even dream of right now. Even if it’s been fairly one-sided in your mind, you can not deny the fact that we have both had some insane moments between us. And I’m not talking, “Cailin Moments,” I’m talking about the leaps and bounds that we’ve been willing to go in the ring to try and win a match. Their have been calculated risks, unnecessary attempts to sway a match one way or the other and there have been jaw dropping moments. But never has anything amounted up to a match like this.

Say what you will about the championship I hold, but I still hold it now months after I won it, and I’ve defended it time and time again. Eris has held hers longer, yet defended it less. And in a match together, I beat the Vixens champion. But that’s not what this is about. The fact is, since I took this off of Haruna after she had it one week, it’s been an invitation to the Cailin Dillon Invitational. And whether it’s been one-on-one or a triple threat, a ladder or TLC or cage match, I have found the way to dispel every single challenger. And what you think of those challengers really doesn’t matter. You’re the same person that just walked out of a match with Erica Ford and Azumi Goto right as things got tight. I’m not here to judge you for it, but simple to say what you think about this title, differs completely in comparison to what the rest of the world thinks. When anyone else sees Cailin Dillon is going to defend this title, they know exactly what that means. And this match, this is exactly how I wanted this title to evolve. It’s not about using you to elevate my career. But I want the established Vixens to challenge for this. I want them to see me defending and retaining this belt and getting anxious for a shot at it. And your confidence makes this match so much better. I lack none, you will never lack it, and you’re willing to put Hexa-gun at stake, at least partially, on our match. That’s why I will say one thing about this match. No matter how it ends, it won’t compare to anything they’ve seen out of us before. We might both leave broken and tattered. But by the end of this match, there will be little doubt that the best Vixen won. So when you said there will never be anything I can do in a match that will make a difference against you, it turns out you were wrong. Because I will be just one of three wins that are needed to flip Hexa-gun upside down.
 
We’ve both gotten in this habit of coming at each other with the same insults. You’ll call me a hero and an idiot, I’ll call you an old self-obsessed bitch. But here’s the thing, I can’t really blame you for being the way you are. I’m just as selfish. I want what’s best for me and I want what’s best for my friends, just like you, and I really don’t care what happens to the outsider, also like you. But I don’t fear an EAW full of Elitists or one with Extremists. Because if I’ve ever proven anything, it’s that I can adapt. Everything I’ve done since I stepped foot in EAW has been an experience to learn from — and that’s exactly what I’ve done. I know that when I debuted in July opposite of Eris LeCava and Aria Jaxon, they were the darlings of that group. Despite what some Vixens who don’t seem to pay attention think, I was the one that was going to have to work harder. And there was even the thought that I needed to help a few others get a jump-start as well. But I’ve never let that be something that defines me here. I showed that I could help the group and then I showed that I could do it on my own. I showed that I could be a good teammate and that I could take charge and do it all alone when I needed to. And by the same token, I’ve never let the results of my matches with you define everything about me, even if you act as if they should.

I know when we first fought, you thought you had ruined me. It was embarrassing, yes, but as you told the story I was well on my way out the door, never showing my face around here again. Two months later, I was a champion. Two months after that, I beat your champion. Now another month after that, we’re about to meet up in probably our biggest match against each other, to date, yet I’m still here. And there’s no signs of me letting up or disappearing. I’ve always been too hungry to quit and too selfish to turn away and accept losing. I know one match doesn’t make up for what’s taken place between us before, and a win by me would only make me 1-100 in your eyes, but the magnitude of my victory will shake the very ground you walk on. The ground will crack beneath your feet as I walk away, title still on my shoulder, and you will fall through the crack and into whatever abyss is reserved for you and your cohorts below. And this isn’t to say that you will go away, but that EAW will be fine and move on. Maybe you’ll return to your commentary position, maybe you’ll return to full Vixen action and fight for control of the whole division. Hell, maybe you will take on Elitists for world titles. But it will still be with one distant memory standing between us. There will always be the time when we went head-to-head at Reckless Wiring and I delivered one of the blows to Hexa-gun’s attempt to rile this entire company. That moment, that “Cailin Moment” — it will live with you forever.
 
This title represents everything I’ve worked for in EAW to this point. You can mock it all you want, but I have single handedly saved this thing from being an even bigger joke. This could have been a new champion a week title, it could have been changing hands like a hot potato, but I’ve never let it become that. Instead it’s become a desired commodity. Every other Vixen knows what this title means. They all watched me defeat Eris in that champion vs. champion match and they know that these titles are now closer in worth than they were ever designed to be. And I did that. Not because I’m worthless like you would deem me, but because I’ve rose to every single challenge that’s been brought up against me. This will be no different. As I said before, all the wins you have against me in the past, they mean nothing as we going into Reckless Wiring. They couldn’t be the farther from my mindset. And honestly, the Hexa-gun stakes in this match don’t mean as much to me as they might mean to some of the others. This is just two of the best women this company has to offer going toe-to-toe. You will likely spend your time this week telling me how you will outsmart me, how you will destroy me and how you will deliver a blow that kills all my dreams. Your words won’t be falling on deaf ears and you will be taken more than seriously. But when we are done with this match, people will never look at the Specialist’s title the same ever again. No, not because the Heart Break Gal raises the title high as it’s third-ever champion. It will be because I defeated my biggest challenger yet, and quite possibly the biggest challenger there ever could be for this title. It’s not a stepping-stone for me, or for this title either. It’s just proof of what I’m capable of in that ring when I’m challenged.

Reckless Wiring will be an unforgettable moment for both of us. I remember each and every time I’ve stepped in the ring and defended this title, and this time will be no different. I will walk into that ring, stand tall to you and I will beat you. And I will still be the reigning Specialist champion. You? Well, it looks like you have other things t worry about with this match. Sounds like the clock is ticking on your group. I think I can hear it, too. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Don’t you forget when you see me walking to the ring on Saturday, you asked for this. And this is the beginning of your end.

I'm not coming into Reckless Wiring by Trojan Horse. I don't need to use deceit as a pathway to victory; but what I am going to do is blind "The Eye in the Sky" with my bare hands.

Unlike the rest of you brainless buffoons who are incapable of thinking for yourself, I'm not about to be swayed by hollow rhetoric from a man who's completely ignorant to the beating I'm going to give him this Saturday. The fact of the matter is that elite vs. extreme has unnecessarily politicized EAW and I'm trying my absolute hardest to reverse the course because I know this isn't politics. When I call myself an advocate for the extreme, I say it with the utmost sincerity because I genuinely believe it. For as much as Mr. DEDEDE likes to think he's the end-all, be-all on the subject, it doesn't even take a thorough evaluation of history to see that I've been consistent throughout on where I stand in this war. 'Cause facts are, my temporary alliance with "elite" WAS a clandestine sting operation, and if you want evidence? Look no further than Hexa-gun forming and flipping the script on Zack Crash at Midsummer Massacre! We fooled Zack Crash into thinking we'd oblige his wishes and happily serve as hired muscle, and then in an instant all of his cards and strength vanished before the eyes of the millions and you knew we meant business. Look at how many Extreme Elimination Chamber matches I've competed in, how many Glass Walls matches I've taken the caution-to-the-wind approach to and staked my livelihood to wrestle in without complaint -- the evidence in my favor is overwhelming. Yet still you have the naysayers raising their eyebrows and questioning my commitments, but in reality all of this halfhearted, nonsensical skepticism is just a device to lure the people's attention away from the crux of the crisis EAW is facing -- this cockamamie idea that "elite" was merely designed to complement extreme, but the reality of the situation is that if this were truly the case, "elite" wouldn't need to be branded such. Because the fact is that EAW has sanctioned matches that now fall under the "elite" stamp for the majority of its existence, but in Zack Crash's infinite wisdom, it was decided the two would be segregated, that the "E" in EAW would represent the word "elite," and regardless of Mr. DEDEDE twisting this by claiming he's in favor of the best of both worlds, you can't possibly emphasize the elite undertaking without undermining the extreme foundation -- and I can guarantee you that if I somehow fail to win at Reckless Wiring, all of you hummingbirds chirping that I'm some villainous dictator in the same breath you sing Mr. DEDEDE's praises won't be the beneficiaries of the "best of both worlds" -- you'll only be getting one world.

Mr. DEDEDE has led a campaign of disinformation in an effort to present himself as the everyman's candidate, and all of you petulant moron fucking cronies a few fries short of a Happy Meal that have bought into this sickeningly unscrupulous deception and allowed him the perfect platform to pontificate these lies and broadcast them across the airwaves DESERVE the monster you get. All of your brain cells have been sapped by the okie-dokie you've tuned into, and now you're trapped without a savior in sight. But I'm not going to allow the world to crumble beneath my feet, because The Machine is greater than God. Fact is, the "silent majority" become brave soldiers when summoned to battle, but likewise the greater EAW populace doesn't actually care about the ultimate fate of Elite vs. Extreme -- they care about securing their own meal tickets. What do you think motivated Team Cross at Fighting Spirit? They almost literally spoke like they were the ambassadors for "elite" sent down from the Heavens to administer divine intervention and exact swift justice on the cruel and wicked. Now? They've been driven into silence, I don't hear a single peep from any of them, and exactly as I told everyone from the get-go, they're more concerned about the success of their personal careers than anything else. Through sheer force of will, The Machine turned the noble, virtuous champions of the elite cause into apathetic pansies whose corpses were feasted on by the crows. Obnoxiousness does not equate to conviction, and frankly I don't give a shit how loud you're speaking even as you reach your crescendo, because after Reckless Wiring where you'll be reduced to the same fate all the teams and units that have tried to oppose Hexa-gun in the past have suffered, all that boisterous confidence will turn to ash and the volume of your cries will be zero. Make no mistake, I'm not foolish enough to believe you're on the same tier as the lightweights that have gunned for Hexa-gun's head in the past; as a matter of fact, I'll readily acknowledge you've been consistent in your beliefs even after Hexa-gun dismantled those misfits you assembled and called a "team" at Territorial Invasion. I respect a wrestler who's honorable enough to die by the same sword they live, but that trademark defiance that's been so pivotal to your legend in this business will finally come back to bite you against The Machine at Reckless Wiring -- and the venom will be lethal. You've crossed the breaches of reason and convinced yourself that lightning's going to strike twice and history will repeat itself. You're on record talking about what an ill-advised decision it would be for a man to march into battle knowing his margin for error is narrow, even venturing to say the sole reason you accepted this titanic battle is because you're confident in your prospects; that is YOUR folly. You win at Reckless Wiring and that pedestal you've crowned yourself on is forever validated, but if you lose? Suddenly those words ring hollow and it doesn't simply prove you misjudged me; it exposes you as a fraud. It exposes to the entire world that you're not an infallible deity incapable of sinning because the bible is centered around you, "God," but exactly what you've pledged to fight against -- a false prophet. When you descend involuntarily into that pothole at Reckless Wiring and realize there's no surface helping you climb back into the light, as you tumble down the pit of darkness, you'll lament every decision you ever made in this industry, every action you've ever taken, and you're going to wish you'd forfeited that championship instead of helplessly falling victim to The Machine.

Now tell us, exactly what has "God" accomplished that makes you worthy of the people's trust? Absolutely nothing. You're right, if Hexa-gun gains majority control over EAW, then Y2Impact's word becomes the law, but you're painfully unaware of what that entails. Because if I'm allowed to create the utopia for this industry that I envision, "the law" is lawless! The roster will be celebrated for their creativity and those capable of adapting to my regime will flourish while the rest of the incompetent recalcitrant garbage are weeded out and all of their vulnerabilities and weaknesses exploited and preyed upon. I don't have anything to admit, I've been honest and transparent about everything I stand for while you've blatantly lied through your teeth trying to coax these people into believing an apple is an orange. For example, this hackneyed idea everyone and their mother spouts about the quality of my reigns, done both to marginalize my greatness and the significance of my contributions and to help compensate for the insecurities and shortcomings of fake Gods like yourself. You can conveniently remember whatever version of history you want, but the fact is you had an opportunity to prevent me from winning that sixth World Championship and you not only failed, you weren't even in the final fucking three! And after I eliminated Jaywalker and Dark Demon, everyone wanted to point their grimy fingers at me and claim I didn't deserve it, as if "deserving" a title is in any way relevant in this cutthroat wrestling business. I've dealt with people like you trying to trivialize my dominance throughout my ENTIRE career, and my entire career I've silenced those same people. I've left them to dwell in the recesses of their unknown caves like hermits, but suddenly I lose one or two matches and out of the woodwork pops a frenzy of all my favorite critics and detractors in a frantic hurry to berate me because they know any failure of mine is a golden star that shines on their legacy even if they had no involvement in those SAME losses! And there you are, holier-than-thou as ever judging me in your flimsy armchair, Mr. Undisputed Hardcore Champion! Any argument of yours questioning my legitimacy that neglects to mention the fact they somehow unified the Hardcore Title with the EAW Championship to essentially award you another reign is moot at best and egregiously dishonest at worst. Most extremists in history have only had to defeat a mere single man to win their World Championships, but me? The night I won my first World Heavyweight Championship, my third match of the goddamn night was an Extreme Elimination Chamber! And I capitalized on my opportunism to pin Jaywalker, just one chapter in the history of Y2Impact's illustrious legacy, but about three years ago? ANOTHER Road to Redemption where I opportunistically cajoled my way into the chamber, and won the Answers World Championship despite being the very first entrant! And then I, a "self-serving politician" according to you, became the victim of the Dynasty General Manager Ashten Cross's corruption when he announced himself as my opponent immediately after my grueling battle, and guess what? I WON ANYWAY! Old habits die hard, that's a major reason Hexa-gun's victory over Team Cross felt so vindicating, because Ashten Cross brought it upon himself through a far-reaching, long-spanning string of corrupt misdeeds, just like Mr. DEDEDE at Reckless Wiring WILL face justice in the form of The Machine's mighty fists. So you can warm that throne up for me before I promptly unseat you and question my legitimacy, but REMEMBER you had a chance to make my sixth World Championship reign a tale of fiction and disgraced yourself with FAILURE! I NEVER HAD THAT OPPORTUNITY WITH YOURS! But now I've blessed myself with the opportunity to make an indelible mark on your legacy that you'll spend the rest of your career trying to erase, the opportunity to prematurely end your championship reign and see if you're still claiming my attack on your competition has been "thoroughly debunked" when the moment you face a real challenger, the moment you gaze into The Machine's steely eyes, you quiver with fear, tuck your tail between your  legs, and have NO answer for the wrath you incur.

Reckless Wiring isn't a fortunate opportunity for Y2Impact; it's The Machine reclaiming its birthright. In fact, for Mr. DEDEDE to have the chance to face me at the zenith of my abilities, the peak of my powers, that's a feather in HIS cap. He can tell his children and his grandkids that he had an opportunity to lace up a pair of wrestling boots and face EAW's preeminent legend. But until you realize the gravity of this challenge, you can spend your time carrying that axe around trying to grind it into whoever will listen saying, "I'M THE FATHER OF WRESTLING! NOTHING HAPPENS WITHOUT MY APPROVAL! THE GROUND THAT I STAND ON IS A COLLECTIBLE!" grumbling and mumbling under your breath how your contributions are taken for granted when the reality is that this business would not only exist without you; it would benefit. Your seniority doesn't entitle you to an eternity of privilege, because you're right, today matters just as much as yesterday, and if you hope to have a snowball's chance in hell of succeeding you need to constantly be on edge defending the stripes you've earned. At Reckless Wiring, you nobly defend those stripes. At Reckless Wiring, I deprive of you them.

 

As always, I am thankful for God, for all the things He's done. And as always, I'm on the other end of an worldly phrased term as a "bible thumper." Truth be told, if I were to thump the Bible on every opponent's head, they still wouldn't understand what they're talking about or in other words, they'll still ignorantly call a believer this overused term. At the same time, I'm actually enjoying the name calling and the slander because it only makes the truth come out. This is what separates carnality-minded folks and the ones that don't need use of worldly resources to get what they want. Trust me, Jones, I do use resources but my main source is the one I'm looking up to every single day. Now I don't condone the actions of Pizza Boy but as I said, what you sow, you will reap and you will get treated as you treat others. You stole the National Elite Championship because you aren't man enough to challenge him for it. Pizza Boy stole the tag team championships because you also aren't man enough to sit in his face while holding onto his belt. Therefore, a title for a title, at Reckless Wiring, you're going to have to come and get it back but somehow, someway, there's a huge possibility that you might go home empty because of your bad fruits that speak to how well you will do inside that ring. Your actions are shouting out loud and she has a horrible accent. If you honestly believe you will overcome the hands of Stand & Deliver then you might as well fill out a few more applications outside of this profession because you and your partner may need it after this pizza delivery boy and religious nut put you back into your places -- behind Y2Impact & Heart Break Gal. You will be back catering to their every need, only seen a mere prospects of the group and cheerleading them into Vixens and world titles. You better be glad that EAW management didn't feel like Stand & Deliver deserved a tag title shot when we defeated your masters. Because if that was so, these belts that I & Pizza Boy hold of yours would have been legally permitted in our names regardless of whoever had won that tag team tournament.

Might I add a few credentials while we get started talking about this match? You boys should already know fairly who I am. And even despite what you may say about my career, I'm still alive and well. I'm still going to go out there and prove to you. I'm still going to go out there to prove to God of what great talent that he has bestowed on me to steal the show. And as I believe that God is the one that has given us talents. I also believe Pizza Boy's confidence in himself led to his victory. His confidence, influence and the spirits around him engaged his hearing and actions to become National Elite Champion. It's always wise to say that words are powerful and nothing I spit is from below. I would rather encourage every single young wrestler to have confidence in themselves, even you or Drake. But I also recommend that you both watch what you say because soon, your words may stumble upon it's on head and create its own downfall that belongs in mud. What I'm trying to say is, you can boast and brag all day long about being undefeated but until you face a real challenge like you're doing right now, then I can commend and respect your values as real champions. Til then, you boys haven't shown why you are the best in this division because in order to be the best, you have to beat the best. I and Pizza Boy are uncharitably different from anything you have faced. We don't lack in anything, we show pure skill and acknowledge all things of our oppositions. Nothing ever slips our mind, maybe except when your dirty hands stole the National Elite Championship. And the tug-a-war has begun, what's more valuable to both of you? Your pride/ego? Your titles? Or your name? Let me tell you what's more valuable to Stand & Deliver.

It's not your cheap titles, it's not your cheap rewards and recognitions, it's not even about that green piece of paper, which I don't have to talk about because I don't need to chase money, it chases me. Things that are valuable to Stand & Deliver are justice, change, conquering our new challenges. We are the definition of those that stand with boldness -- rock, solid and deliver with passion. You can yell all day about your titles being taken but some times, you have to face reality.

You snooze, you lose. Simple as that.

So… this is what it has come down to?
 
H.R.D.O and the entire EAW Universe simply cannot get their head out of their asses. Ever since Hexa-Gun took control of Voltage, the quality of the show itself has sky rocketed through the god damn roof. As this company has evolved, the roots of this company has slowly been fading. The root of this company is extreme, note elite and certainly not some other bullshit H.R.D.O got off of google. Doesn’t anyone remember “Where extremists are born and hardcore legends are created”? When I was a young girl, EAW was the only thing that helped me escape my reality. I saw legendary matches, blood spewed everywhere as bodies were tortured for our pleasure. Although, as the years progressed and extremists were exchanged simultaneously everything felt different. EAW didn’t have that same vibe. EAW didn’t show the same quality of matches. EAW SUCKED! When I first became an official EAW Vixen, I was horrified as to how this place was ran – but I stayed quiet about it. Everyone else put on a fake mask and simply nodded in agreement as EAW evolved into what it is today. It is until I saw Hexa-Gun formed when hope was reinstated into my small, cold heart. They shared the same views, the shared the same desire for change – or better yet, wanted to stop all of the changes taking place so EAW can revert back into its original state. Voltage is a prime example of what EAW can become! Extreme is being showcased in a way that is deemed unforgettable.  This is what EAW is all about. No one can look me in the eyes and say that Voltage isn’t their favorite EAW brand. Two of the most iconic legends, Y2Impact and the Heart Break Gal took this easily forgettable C-rated show and turned it into the flagship show that it is today. I feel nothing but pride as to what my cohort has achieved. I am proud and I am willing to jump over any obstacle that is put in my way. I’ll do it for my team. I’ll do it for Hexa-Gun. I’ll do it for my FAMILY.
 
I’m still in complete shock after witnessing the disgusting nature of H.R.D.O, having the audacity of interrupting one of the primary owners of Voltage while she was addressing the ungrateful crowd. He thinks he can play mind games with us, but as Ms. Heart Break Gal stated, it’s just a waste of time trying to make the same flawed plan try to work over and over and over again. He may think that I’m going to fall in the category of the Hexa-Gun member who couldn’t pull their weight, but he’s completely wrong. I don’t care if I have face not one, not two but THREE women in one match, I will prevail just how I have in the past. I seem to perform better when the odds are stacked against me, so H.R.D.O is doing me a favor by creating this match with that grand incentive on the side.
 
The Vixens championship has been by my side for nearly four months now. I’ve set the bar high for whoever wants to come and dethrone the Anti-Vixen. I walked into EAW with a goal – to be the best. Contrary to popular belief, I haven’t achieved that goal. I know, I know. I’ve done so much. I’ve been in legendary feuds and matches, what else is there left to do? If there’s something people don’t know it’s that I have an ego, a big one at that. I’m not easily satisfied with a four-month reign. I’m not easily satisfied with being the 21^st Vixens Champion. I’m not satisfied with the fact that I’ve been the face of this division since 2016 started. I want to be more than that. I want to be something completely unimaginable. I’ve done what I’ve can in order to interject my name in the main event scene. I’ve taken risks that had a 50/50 chance of backfiring and ruining everything that I’ve worked oh so hard for. Reckless Wiring is the hurdle I have to jump over to get me one step closer to the finish line. I’m going to go ahead and say this – I want to walk into Pain for Pride as Vixens Champion. No one else should be able to experience that unforgettable moment other than ME. I’ve worked my ass off for nearly a year trying to make these other simpletons look good. I put my body on the line every night to remind the doubters as to why I’m the champion in the first place. Erica Ford and Azumi should consider themselves lucky regarding the result of our match. People can get angry and assume the worse, but HBG and I walked out victorious regardless of what the officials had to say. Unlike the rest of the scums that walk the Vixens locker room, we have the CHOICE whether we want to preform or not. We have options while you fucking kid diddlers are forced to preform like the slaves that you are. Fucking pathethic!
 
So, I know everyone is dying to hear what I have to say about the unfortunate souls who HAVE to go against me. Knowing that I’m going to have three other gold-hungry animals aiming towards me is making me excited for all the wrong reasons. I love the attention and I love knowing that I’m going to be the main focus for Maddie, Tarah and Alexis this entire week. A sensation is sent throughout my entire body knowing that those three bitches will be thinking of me and me only for days. They’re going to be analyzing my every move. Rewatching old matches, attempting to memorize my move set in hopes of having a slight advantage. Late at night they’re going to be laying down on their expensive beds inside their lavish homes, thinking of what could possibly be in store for Saturday night. The what if’s will begin to bombard their small, pea-sized brain and will completely remove any sense of optimism they had left in their weak, fragile bodies.
 
 

Those are all valid questions that should be taken into consideration by every single one of my opponents. Nothing is guaranteed, especially when I’m thrown into the mix. I’ve learned that anything can happen on these live programs. You think you have something within your grasp then someone comes in from behind and snatches it away from you. I’m sure Maddie knows how that feels like. Oh god, poor Maddie. Now that I think about it – ever since I kicked her ass and embarrassed her in front of millions of people her career really went down the drain. Maddie can definitely give a hefty speech to the rest of you when it comes to feeling like you’re on top of the world then having someone kick you off of your throne within an instant. Maddie, who was the one who did that, again? Oh, me? Oh, right! Of course! How could I forget? I’ve had so many other great moments that I simply forgot! But I’m sure it’s just eating you up away inside. Somehow you managed to weasel your way into this match and you’re just waiting for the moment when you can strike. You can continue and work on that, dear. We all know it takes you quite a bit to get a hang of things, so we’ll give you your time don’t you even dare to worry about that. Although, I have to say one thing – the whole psycho gimmick you’re trying to embody isn’t looking that great on you. Instead, you look like a stupid bitch who had one too many crack rocks in her day. I mean, siding with The Sanatorium? You must really be out of your mind. And speaking of which, Alexis Diemos is in this match? Who in the living fuck even is that? Seriously, I’m starting to think this is just a cruel joke. You mean to tell me that this girl, who is easily one of the most disappointing acts of 2016 is in one of the biggest matches of my career? Alexis, I know for a fact that you are in no way going to be a threat in our match. You’re so fucking lame that I’m not even going to take you into consideration when training for my match. We all know that the only reason you’re there is for to be by Maddie’s side once her retardation kicks in and she begins to bite on her arm like the moron that she is. And of course, Tarah Nova – the woman who wouldn’t had been in this match if it wasn’t for her sweet sugar daddy. It must really suck to be you, Tarah. You’re known amongst the EAW Universe as a woman who can’t be independent. You were clinging onto Zach Genesis’ side and now you’re trying to grasp on Mr. AWC himself because let’s face it – you’re afraid to be alone. You know that the fans don’t give a shit about Tarah Nova, but they give a shit about who Mr. DEDEDE is dating. You went from being one of the most impressive Vixens from 2015 to being a side chick. Man, you’re not worthy of this match. Alexis Diemos isn’t worthy of this match and Maddie isn’t worthy either. This is what H.R.DO is putting me through? This is what he thinks will break Hexa-Gun? This is the best he has to offer? How sad. I can’t wait until Hexa-Gun is flourished with H.R.D.O’s shares. I can already tell its going to be a really good time. The land of extreme, baby!!

Here’s something the ultimately privileged will never understand, the resources of man are quite limited. It’s easy to say one should be truthful on their resumes and in their job interviews, when they have job offers or easy access to employment instead of no entry point into their profession. It’s simple to say never to steal, when you have all the money in the world. The more powerful and rich, the more one can talk about ethics and morals over doing what’s needed. The more people have, the more they can whine and complain about trivial affairs. Now no one would claim that Pizza Boy came up in the 1% percent, or whatever crap the top people in the world go by today, but here is a guy who has no self awareness of where he is placed in the grand scheme of those in pain in the world, with his words he signals for pity and virtue signals with his talk of hard work and stories of being at church every Sunday. Poor Pizza Boy, his momma was only mildly happy for him instead of jumping ten feet for joy at his successes of being able to get an education and being able to pay for the food on his table! Cry cry, his mentor Tony Rolland only mildly patted him on the back for making it big in an industry many dream from childhood to be in, something Pizza Boy apparently didn’t even care for, instead of cracking his back with pats so passionate it would resound throughout the universe! Even worse, The Heart Break Boy was happy Pizza Boy was blessed by god to be able to become a champion, instead of being happy in Pizza Boy without filter in the exact way Pizza Boy would want!

While Pizza Boy bemoans his own mother being only a 7 out of 10 on the mother supportive scale, this handsome mug grew up without his parents away from his people.

While Pizza Boy “begrudgingly” became a wrestler and came in here on a streak, I had to work as a stage hand and being a cameraman for years while in wrestling training thinking maybe I could network my way to an actual performer role in this company until spitting mist in Cleopatra’s goons face got me closer to a contract than anything else ever did.

While this undeserving loser Pizza Boy chills with some of the most caring big legends like The Heart Break Boy and Tony Rolland who never should of gave him the time of day, I got hard knock types like The Mercenaries and Jaywalker. You think mister ice heart himself, Jaywalker, pats anyone on the back? You think I hear things like “good for you TJ?”?  You got a mentor and friend out of them, I’m just a product to uphold the J-Dynasty brand, not that I’m complaining since it comes with perks.

See for guys like me, love and praise is inessential, I never had the resources to be concerned with how proud people were of me, let alone nitpick the quality of their pride.  No, I worry about more important goods to take as the king of thieves. I’m talking about the limelight, the riches, and the glory!  I am a proud pick pocket because most things in life are scarce, you gotta take what you can get because hardly anyone gives anything away and there’s never enough of these things to go around! You can steal gold, money, matches, hearts and minds, but the one type of thievery I cannot stand is when you completely and utterly appropriate another man’s style! Why? Because style, the expression and swagger of man, it is one of the only things every living human being can have on their own in infinite supply and have no need to steal from others!

Pizza Boy. First in your desperation after I pinned your team leader Mister DEDEDE when you first stepped up to Hexa-gun, you used mist on me, me the master of the dragon breath!

Then months later you started rocking my National Elite Championship around your waist.

But it wasn’t enough for you, after Drake & Jones masterfully confiscated the NE championship in our comic stylings to have a good time, you had the nerve to try making a joke out of pickpocketing our tag team championships!

That ain’t right, Pizza Boy! You know it ain’t right! That’s three strikes!

I promise you’re gonna pay. I promise, something bad is going to happen to Stand and Deliver at Reckless Wiring.

See I get it guys, you’re a pizza boy and bible thumping religious nut, knocking on doors is your main source of doing your work, be it for making a living or to spread your message when nice little people open their doors at your arrival welcoming you as good citizens do. What you don’t get is this, you’re in the wrong neighbourhood knocking on doors that ought not be knocked upon, when Hexa-gun doors swing open you’d best expect spray of bullets are the only welcoming you get from these denizens of extreme! Pizza Boy for some reason thinks we can’t hold a candle to the Mercenaries, pumping his chest out like some tough guy because you guys got one over on them, apparently automatically meaning you have something over us, that’s the same logic Brett Kennedy and Aria had, the same train of thought Lucian Black and Jacob Senn could run on, but yet despite beating The Mercenaries just like you guys did….they all lost to Drake & Jones! Then again, we’ve yet to be defeated period. With all due respect to our co-leaders and tag team of the year 2015, let’s not forget that the only team that actually took the titles off them was Drake & Jones, so sorry to break your little hearts rushing to conclusions, if any team held a candle to them it was for certain us, the undefeated grand prix trophy and tag team title winners, shoe ins for tag team of the year 2016!

You abuse one of the only resources you don’t have when you decide to underestimate us, you cannot afford to look down on us like you do and that creates even more opportunity for us to snatch things away from you than we have already just by you daring to step into the ring with us. See I’m sure to some, they’re coming into this event thinking Drake & Jones might lose their tag titles or Hexa-gun might be disbanded if we lose three out of five matches, but I always envision things from the perspective of what I can come out of a contest with! I look around and I see the joy and smiles everyone has when they see and talk about Stand & Deliver, I know I can rob these people of it so that the smiles are all on the faces of Tiberius Jones and Drake Jaeger! I know we can take the last pieces of sand left falling on the Heart Break Boy’s sand clock career running out and use it to be burned and coloured into a stained glass panel in our image!

And what a stunning sight it will be to behold!

Reckless Wiring....

It seems like a long time ago. And maybe for the last time, I get another opportunity at some championship gold against two very tough but hard-headed opponents. And what I mean by hard-headed consists off their lunatic style of playing mental games. Well you reap what you sow and they have sown themselves into a fight that will end their sad title reign. You know, since returning against in 2015, I already knew what I was getting myself into while teaming up with Pizza Boy. Right off the bat, folks were already pre-determining the fate of the tag team division with Stand & Deliver along with Drake & Jones being the primary vocals. This moment was simply meant to happen and in any typical EAW prophecy, they have all chosen Stand & Deliver to fold against two halfs of the Hexa-folks. I wouldn't disagree with the chemistry and momentum behind their team and in most of these cases, if they somehow defeat us then it might turn off to be a sweep in Hexa-Gun's favor. Best believe, I have been there with Project E.G.O. and even other outside factions known as the Bane of LEGION. I know how it feels to be dominant and turn an entire company upside down and I still have the power to do the exact same thing if I chose to.

But considering with the man that I am now, I rather not mingle with the same feeble desires to rule over a company that will soon perish then eventually be forgotten. Just as TCS has been forgotten, Dynasty Foundation has been forgotten or even that one tag team they used to call Sex'N Violence has definitely been forgotten. The team of Drake & Jones will also soon be forgotten. Don't get me wrong, they are good but sometimes good doesn't always guarantee a spot amongst the best. Look at Dynamite Rain, a great team, but individually, they will hold slight remembrance because of their lack of impact in singles competition. This results into their team being forgotten eventually down the road as newer teams pave the way for a successful division. However, no team stands out better none other than Stand & Deliver, whom both individually and together have made their mark since our formation. Now this team of Drake & Jones? The armor bearers of their little squad, the Ginyu Squad, I suppose. They are the background dancers while Lumzala or whatever strip teases in front of them. The only thing of remembrance that this team will ever bring is a numbers game like any typical faction. Without the other arms and legs, they are nothing. Without a name covering over six heads, they are vulnerable with no single direction to go. They are tasteless and will fall quickly down to the feet of their opponents. Much like at Reckless Wiring or else, they somehow call another one of their boy mates to help them. It doesn't really matter because whomever tries to intervene, it won't turn out too much in favor for our little Drake & Josh, Nickelodeon show.

The Heart Break Boy hasn't won a world championship since 2011. The Heart Break Boy also hasn't won the tag team titles since 2011 also, or any title for that matter. I'm turning this matter into my hands. I'm going to pursue this final moment on top and give all the glory to the One that deserves it. I've learned a lot off my past mistakes in these few months and it's funny coming from a guy who has rode on more planes than half the EAW roster to travel the country. I just understand now that even at an older age or a declining career, there are still many things we must know. One of the many things wrong with this world is our lack of knowledge. We fail to research our  own information, we rather conform with everyone's opinions and believe we have it all made. We don't want to put in effort or explain why we have disbelief in certain things. We rather rebel because it seems like the cool thing to do or for a simple fact, we want our eyes on the people to full up our big egos. Friends are hard to come by in this day and age because of this scenario. That's why I only have One..... And Pizza Boy. Get ready to kiss those tag team titles goodb---Oh wait... I forgot, they're already gone...and Soon, you both will be forgotten.

The camera opens on a frustrated looking Pizza Boy on the darkened set of his 'Morning Pizza' talk show.

PB: When I told my mom that I was going to community college, she said 'good for you'.  When I started working nine-to-five tossing dough and making a living for myself and my family my mom regurgitated the same feigned enthusiastic 'Good for you'.  When I set out to become a wrestler (begrudgingly as it may have started) I took all comers and held a four month long in-ring streak.  My mentor Tony looked at my work and he said 'good for you' in that oh so familiar condescending tone that I just couldn't wrap my head around.  When I set out to win the EAW National Championship I got the same hair tussle/back pat/'atta boy encouragement from HBB, and while I don't think that man is capable of the same cynicism as everyone else, I sensed the doubt in him when I told him I was going to do it for a higher power, that it was my destiny, that it was my calling.  And when I did win, all praise went to that higher power, and once again I got another 'good for you' from someone I think so highly of.  And that reoccurring mantra of mediocrity kept following me as I squared off against opponent after opponent who took me lightly, and wouldn't even give me the accolade of beating them clean after weeks of smack talk.  All I got was a handshake and a 'good for you'.  And then it hit me; everyone's not trying to be backhanded, everyone's not being malicious, they genuinely mean what they say.  Good....for you.

PB lets his head drop in fed up exhaustion.

PB: Good for me? The kid who kicked and clawed his way to the top with the most minimalist abilities.  Good for me, the kid who can take a beating and be stupid enough to get back up.  Good for the kid whose strongest attribute is being able to make a crowd laugh instead of cry while he's being thrown off the top of a cell.  Good for HBB's lesser protege, good for Tony Rolland's bastard trainee, good for a pizza boy who was working for delivery tips a year ago.  That's what they mean, and it's not meant to offend, it's not meant to uphold either, it's just a genuine fact of life for a majority of EAW's fandom and locker room. I'm the runt who wont die.  I'm the anomaly that hasn't been corrected.  Me, kid 30 minutes or less, the dynamo that doesn't know how to go, the hapless half-shift hero who can't live with the fact that he's just another zero.  What's happened with me shouldn't be, Drake n' Jokes. I should've petered out eight months ago, I shouldn't have made it out of the ring with Terrah Nova, I'm the glitch that just keeps overtaking more and more of the system.  I shouldn't have lived past my first bouts with Hades, but I did.  I shouldn't have been capable of  taking Jamie O'Hara to the limit, but I did.  I shouldn't be someone that HBB sees the future in, I shouldn't have become his new hot prospect protege, but I did, and we shouldn't have beaten the Mercenaries, but we did.  We do it five ways to Sunday, and then we rest on the day of our lord, and we start back up Monday morning, whooping that Mercenary derriere.  And the thing is, the emphatic point of the matter is this; you're not better than them.  You're not Y2Impact and his frosted tips and pepperoni nips.  You're not even man enough combined to hold the jock of Heart Break Girl! What makes you think you can overcome the ethereal tandem that's got everything going for it and still somehow everything to prove?  Stand & Deliver isn't an accident.  S&D are the end all, be all, beat all that we see.  This isn't going to be a walk in the park for you.  If you plan on trying to keep something from us, take something from us, or make a name for yourself at the expense of a legacy that's bigger than all of us combined, you're going to have to give everything you've got just to walk away, much less walk away with a victory in tow.

PB cuts his eyes up at the camera and gives a snarky smile

PB: And if you can't, well I'm sure enough that your effort will be 'good, for you.'

PB rises and walks off set as the lights go down around him.

How many times must a lie be told in order for it to become the truth?

There ought to be an equation or some sort of algorithm for that. But if there were, would that necessarily be the truth? It's ingrained in the human folly to believe what you perceive until our perceptions are indistinguishable from reality. That's the world around us. That's the way of living we are subject to from our first breath until our dying day. There's a blurred line between reality and repetition. The whole truth, the actual truth, is indistinguishable from the same lies we tell ourselves day in and day out. But these falsehoods and fabrications that we've accepted as unequivocal fact -- these things are spoon fed to us from birth. It's buried deep into our bosom. It's what makes us who we are. We're such helpless creatures, we're so desperate to cling to anything that exhibits even a modicum of consistency and formula behind it that we will duly and wholly accept even the most odious, most loathsome, lamentable beliefs and values from an objective standpoint as facts, customs, traditions, LAWS -- objectivity aside. It's a survival tactic that got us by in the hunter gatherer era of humankind, and it serves no purpose in the modern world. We should be able to see through most pretenses, but there's still that gullible function in the human ''operating system'' that's yet to be removed and won't be removed until the next ''software update'' of the machine that is man. In this age with all that is tangible and all of the worlds information attainable at a moment's notice, this feature that once lead to our survival and affluence is now what holds most of us back. But this is exactly what makes the matter of "true or false" so arbitrary, the concepts are almost useless. A bold faced liar like Y2Impact, who turned his back on Extreme, who thoroughly and violently persecuted anyone who dared to uphold the principles of Extreme, has been allotted the freedom in today's world to pull a complete 180 and say his allegiance with Crash was just a covert operation to infiltrate the power structure of EAW. And for what? To fix what? To change a system that wasn't broken until he himself broke it?? That doesn't exactly make much sense, does it? But to the feeble minds of most men these are questions you don't have to ask, because as long as Y2Impact repeats to himself and to all of you loud and clear: "He is a champion of the principles that made EAW the empire that it is! He's here to create a better future! A more noble future! One that will be as eminent as it will be sublime for future generations of those who dwell the land of Elite, Extreme, Merchants, Beasts, and Opportunity!" So long as his words leave a bellowing echo through the halls, unchallenged, it's only so long before his words ring true.

But for now, those words are not unchallenged. Not with me around. So long as I'm the Answers World Champion, ironically enough, I am the challenger to every last one of his false pretenses. Don't be mistaken, to this day it's Hexa-Gun against the world. Don't let his glib, self serving cajolery fool you even for a GODDAMNED second into thinking those who disagree with him are just the nagging, vocal minority too stuck in their ways to embrace this ''sweeping change''. There is no silent majority that stands with the Hexa-Gun, if that's what he's implying. The majority are silent, but their support he has not. In reality, a force has risen to take on the Hexa-Gun at literally every corner. Elitists, Vixens, authority figures far and wide have stood up to this quote unquote 'principled' and 'noble' group again and again and again, similar to how Zack Crash would find disruptors to his regime at every turn. People are privy to Hexa-Gun and everything they claim they stand for. That's the beauty about repetition forming reality -- when Elitists find themselves being oppressed and outnumbered over the years by knights in shining armour like the Hexa-Gun and Zack Crash, and Project EGO, and various other factions who claim they operate for "The good" of EAW, eventually the masses grow wise to it. Eventually people look at the powers that be who continually lie in their face, make flowry promises and stab them in the backs, and eventually people realize that men like Y2Impact are not to be trusted, because they'll promise the people anything to get what they want. The problem is, If Hexa-Gun manages to come away with the majority rule over EAW, there's still a chance that his word does become law. After all, the power becomes vested within him to completely rewrite history however he see's fit, and assure that his narratives become no different from the already changeable, already malleable "reality" that we so easily embrace.

But let me tell you about reality, and let me tell you why I love this business more than anything else.

In the world of politics, for example, the truth has never been more malleable. It can be rearranged, and restructured, and molded into the desires of those who hold hegemonic order in their grasp. The whims of the few control the fate of the many, and the few who are aware to it don't stand a chance fighting it. There is no fight to even be fought. Their oppressors hide in shadows and are cloaked by puppet figures, the threat can't be neutralize when it can' even be targeted.

But in this world, in my world, in the world of wrestling, it's a lot different. Power exists, in this world, to be taken. There is no shadow government, there are no shadow oppressors. What you see is what you get. There is one truth -- one noble truth -- and it exists behind these ropes, in this ring. The one noble truth in this sport is brute strength.

In the outside world, false prophets come and go by the dozen and they will earn themselves a following that will willingly march off the edge of a cliff for them.

In our world, false prophets are put to the test each and every week and are forced to prove their worth. Words don't mean a damn thing. There's nothing you can say that means more than what you do in this ring. Your actions are your greatest advocate. Impact, my actions are all I need to defend myself. For example, in your eyes my victory over you at Pain for Pride 6 is my trump card, because I love bringing it up so much. I love bringing actual facts to the table, and I know you're tired of it -- I know you're tired of me playing that card, I know you wish you could scrub that day from the minds of all those people who witnessed it. If you could, you would remove Pain for Pride 6 from the annals of history and replace it with your own convenient story. But you know what? I'll do you a solid, I'll leave that one alone. I'll forgive you for your loss to me in your hometown, Seattle, Washington, in front of 60-70,000 of your own people watching you fail them, watching you disappoint them. I'll forgive you for making a liar out of your supporters who defended you and rooted for you, and assured their children and their grandchildren that Y2Impact is EXACTLY as great as he says he is and that he would never let the down! I'll forgive you for that Impact, and I'll never mention it again. After all, in just five short days, I won't have to. I'll have a new career defining victory over you to hang on my mantle. Match Of The Universe 2 will be my new trump card over you. But Impact, this is the difference between you and I. Every possible straw you can grasp to build your strawman argument... it's just petty semantics. It's worthless jargon. It's politics as usual. And you sure are, if anything else, a career politician if I ever saw one! You dress and act the part! But career politicians like you have no incentive outside of your own self benefit. Your job is to work for the people, and carry out the will of the people, but you're constantly distracted by special interests and will do bare minimum for job security -- which is fine. I myself told HRDO to his face at the EAW Awards Show that after this company had turned it's back on me so many times, I didn't intend on serving anyone else other than myself ever again. But when men like you try so desperately to paint me out as some sort of fraudulent con man, or some dishonest serpent who will lie to you in your face and dig his fangs in your throat when you aren't looking, you're casting a dangerous misjudgment on me. You're deeming me to be so weak and so desperate that you think I have to lie about my intentions -- as if I haven't made my intentions perfectly clear my whole career. And you do this while masquerading a hostile, self serving, self interested corporate takeover as a nonpartisan revolution! "For the people!" "For the future!" Heart Break Gal hands herself a Specialists Title match, and it's "For the future!" Y2Impact, with the authority vested in him, hands himself another title match, and he's doing it "For the future!" Y2Impact openly admits to desiring a 7th reign to establish his dominance, and it's "For the future!" "For the people!" "For the founding fathers!" "For the principles that made EAW great!" 

What are you so scared of??? Why don't you just admit it!? Admit that you're doing this for you and for you alone! Just SAY IT! JUST FUCKIN' SAY IT! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY FOOLING?? ME??? JUST SAY IT, YOU'RE USING POLITICS FOR YOUR OWN GAIN. What's the matter? Are you that desperate for glory and attention? Is that why you try to project those same sort of demagogue-like glory hungry characteristics on me? Do you know how hated and vilified I've been in the past? Do you know how many times I've been demonstrated against for boldly doing what I knew would earn me the accolades I so desired, but also the title as the most hated man in our entire sport?? I never gave a damn about rubbing people the wrong way, but it sure sounds like a man who swears by his living mother's grave that all of these self serving authoritative decisions he's making are for the "benefit" of others in EAW -- it sure sounds like a man like that is a man desperate for a reputable image, and moreso desperate to piece together his crumbling legacy. After all, he's the same man who's called himself the "Quintessential Champion" but had his words stuffed back down his throat after being called out for his less than stellar championship reigns, subsequently following his hypocritical attack on me and my current reign as Answers World Champion that ended up being thoroughly DEBUNKED. My 6th reign pops a squat and shits all over yours, junior. The highlight of your 6th reign is being hit in the fucking back with a salty arrow (fitting for a salty piece of crap like you) and being dethroned in epic fashion by Starr Stan. The highlight of my 6th reign hasn't even arrived yet. And I'll give you enough credit, beating you and bringing Hexa-Gun to its knees will certainly be a highlight in itself. Despite having so many victories over you, including one I shall not name, I'll gladly admit that a victory over you is a prestigious one. But that's merely an example of how you have nothing of salient value to work with against me. Try as you might, you can't shake the fact, the unequivocal fact, not the driven home narrative, but the FACT that you've struggled your entire career trying to match up to my esteem, seeking the adulation that I receive, hoping to measure up to my caliber, PRAYING, BEGINNING to come within arms length of MY standing, MY stature. The ONLY time you could even reach the level of gravitas attached to your affairs is in association with me! I'm the biggest meal ticket you've ever had, kid! For SEVEN LONG YEARS IT'S EATEN AWAY AT YOU THAT THERE IS A LEVEL YOU JUST CANT REACH, AND EVERY TIME YOU REACH FOR THAT BRASS RING, IT GOES HIGHER AND HIGHER. TO YOU, I AM A GOD! I AM A FUCKING GOD!!! THAT'S NOT REALITY UPON REPETITION, THAT'S NOT A WORD I MUTTER TO MYSELF TO ROCK ME TO SLEEP, IT'S THE FACT THAT CONSUMES YOU FROM THE INSIDE OUT, AND FORCES YOU TO COMPENSATE WITH A SUIT AND TIE AND BOOKING CAPABILITIES! AND EVERY TIME YOU LIFT UP THOSE CUFFS AND TRY TO PLAY FISTICUFFS WITH GOD, YOU FIND TIME AND TIME AGAIN THAT YOU GET KNOCKED ON YOUR ASS, BECAUSE YOUR ARMS ARE JUST TOO SHORT!

AND YES, I WAS A GOD WHEN HEXA-GUN DEFEATED ANTI-GUN, I WAS A GOD WHEN I WAS DEFEATED AT PAIN FOR PRIDE, I WAS A GOD AGAINST RYAN SAVAGE, I WAS A GOD BEFORE I EVER KNEW I WAS! AND GUESS WHAT, I'M STILL GOD! I'M STILL YOUR SUPERIOR IN EVERY CONCEIVABLE WAY UNTIL YOU PROVE OTHERWISE AT RECKLESS WIRING! AND YOU WON'T! I'LL SEE TO IT THAT YOU DON'T! 

Another thing, I don't need to remind today's audience of yesterday's greatness. I'm too busy being the greatest every single day. But maybe you need a reminder, that I was yesterday's greatest as well. You may have convinced yourself and you may have had your asskissers over at the Hexa-Gun assuring you that you truly are the ''authority'' around these parts, but you have no authority over me. You are no boss of mine. You don't sign my pay stubs. I can draw 30,000 to any arena on Earth. I'm the biggest act in the world that doesn't involve a guitar. My name value may not supersede EAW's, although even that's up for debate, but I'm perfectly fine with my name being synonymous with "Elite" OR "Extreme Answers Wrestling". When you think of EAW, you think of Mr. DEDEDE, because this is the house that I've built. But remember one thing Impact. Before there was a "Y2Impact", or a "Hexa-Gun", or a "Voltage", or even an "EAW", there was Mr. DEDEDE. I was a major star before this company was even a figment of CM Ronn's imagination. I was a major star before CM Ronn ever put on a pair of wrestling boots. I paved the way for this company to take off. Before me, EAW was a third rate brand dragging on the coatails of AWF. Before me, EAW was a failed experiment that barely got itself off the ground. This is with those "founding fathers" like Mak, Banks and Jay. But as soon as I got on board, this place became an empire, the same way AWF did when I got on board as well. So the reality is, I put that suit you wear on your fucking back. I put food on your fucking table. I put your name in fucking lights. You are NOTHING without me. Without me, you are the boss of NO ONE. Without me, you're either wrestling for a bunch of fucking hicks in a barn at the county fair for chump change, or you're in some high school gym in Southern Washington doing flips from some shoddy ring onto a fucking basketball court. You're aren't main eventing FPVs, earning seven or eight figure pay days. You're not on the talk shows, you're not on syndicated national TV, you're not on the radio interviews, you're not on 7/11 cups, you're not on cereal boxes, you're not in muscle & fitness magazines -- hell, without me, you wouldn't even know what the hell a "Heart Break Gal" is. You sure wouldn't be shooting your ridiculous Hexa-promos in bath tubs and jacuzzis or bedrooms or helicopters or underground doomsday taverns, pegging each other with strap-ons, or whatever the fuck it is "tag partners do." 

I am your meal ticket. I am your provider. I am your bread winner. I am your king. Grovel at my feet you pixie cut having tailored suit wearing flip flopping peasant. Grovel at my fucking feet and show me the respect I deserve! 

I AM YOUR OG, AND YOU WILL RESPECT ME AS SUCH. 


THAT'S GOD.

What kind of man enters the dragon's lair with only shining metal armor, a silver sword, and a shield? The same type of man who considers himself courageous, the same type of man that will die in the dragon's lair for his "bravery", but knows that his journey was only to feed his ego. That knight --- is more of a jester, more of the local town idiot; who wants to make change, but is taking every wrong direction in doing it. Everyone expects him to slay the dragon, but deep down inside he knows... the fire with melt the armor onto his flesh and skin, right down to the very bone. He's walking into this fight KNOWING he's a dead man walking, but does he care? Not even close. This "champion" has the purpose to be a champion, he wants to deliver on his promises, but to what extent? He wants the people to flock around him in joy, but he can't merely beat a veteran in the village. What do you have to offer this brand, Oasis? You treat me like your underling, you pretend as if I only keep my eyes up, and not down. I know you've always existed --- much like how I knew The Heart Break Boy and The Pizza Boy existed as soon as they entered this brand. What makes you so much better than Brian Daniels? What kind of resume have you built up for yourself? I can't seem to find the redeeming qualities in yourself, but maybe I'm overlooking you as a whole, because I've only been face-to-face with the spineless coward. Does that satisfy you to no end? I want you to take away the very attack that got you here in the first place, the day you blindsided me. What's honestly there? You didn't earn the right to compete for the World Heavyweight Championship, and you most certainly haven't impressed a single individual if you had to go the extra mile to get this match. You're an observer, you're looking from the outside in --- and you intend to use subtle jabs to get under my skin. Do you know what really annoys me, Oasis? When guys like you... they have nothing better to say, so what do they do? They retaliate to past events, the same events that are so negatively looked down upon. I don't know how many times I'm going to be approached with the same slander, over, and over, and over. I'm called a coward, I'm called spineless, I'm looked back at as one of the worst World Heavyweight Champions ever. And for what? Because I did what any other regular human being would do when they're fed up with their job? I want you to dive back into history a little bit more, before you start using against me. I'm undefeated against the man known as Kevin Devastation, and that will never change. Do you honestly believe that I would run away from such a pathetic elitist like him? That's highly in comparison as if I ran away from a fight with you.

He was as much of a beast as you were --- and here you stand, with a wide grin on your face, and you have the nerve to say that I forfeited my title. You don't know what goes on behind the scenes, you don't know what it was like to get to that certain point. Do you want to know why? You didn't have to wait YEARS... YEARS OF IMPRESSING. YEARS OF TURNING HEADS. YEARS OF PUTTING MY ABSOLUTE ALL INTO THIS COMPANY, TO BE OVERLOOKED. YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO EARN YOUR SPOT IN THIS COMPANY, NOBODY DOES. I'M SURE YOU DON'T KNOW WHY, BUT IT'S BECAUSE OF ENTITLEMENT. Everyone feels entitled to something, and in your case... you felt entitled to become World Heavyweight Champion. And how did you proceed to take action in "earning" a shot at becoming World Champion? You ran in from the crowd, you hopped that barricade, and you attacked a man who had already just defended his World Heavyweight Championship. In what right mind do you consider that EARNING anything? No, it's guys like you that sicken me to the core, because you don't have to earn ANYTHING these days. It's guys like you that would side with Zack Crash in his reign of power, because you'd rather every accolade handed to you on a silver platter. That's the kind of man you are, but don't you dare slander my name, and distort my image. That also goes to show that even entitlement will get you SO FAR. Or isn't that how I was rewarded? Zack Crash CHOSE ME... ME to be the designated elitists to take away the World Heavyweight Championship away from Dynasty. That makes me wonder, why not choose one of his best friends in Scott Oasis? Why not? Why not send his right hand man to Dynasty to finish the job? Is it because, he didn't trust you? You weren't reliable? Or is it that you DIDN'T DESERVE IT. You deserved the shot as much as you deserve the one that you're getting now. I've succeeded on retaining this World Heavyweight Championship after making Tyler Parker submit against the likes of; the "paper" champion Alex Anderson, Jacob Senn, Mr. DEDEDE, Ryan Savage, Jaywalker, Tig Kelly, Rhaegar, Carlos Rosso, and The Heart Break Boy. Do you want to call that a list that's underwhelming? Do you consider every competitor on that last to be lackluster? May I add that most of these same "clowns" are the men who have worked their hardest to get where they are in this business? You look at the likes of Mr. DEDEDE, who's now the Answers World Champion --- then you look to the likes of Jaywalker, who's been one of the most dominant wrestlers to ever lace up a pair of boots. And then you take a glance over at the man you couldn't defeat in the same night you assaulted me, THE HEART BREAK BOY.

What can you really pride yourself on, by saying this list has no true competition in? I've noticed you, following me, stalking me, pretending to be the predator in this scenario --- from brand, to brand, to brand... you've wanted a piece of me ever since the day I held your shoulders against the mat, and got the first victory over. Do you honestly think that I'd forget your past, as much as you'd remember mine? You're impressive, Scott, but you haven't utilized your ability to be a force that nobody wants to go up against. You have skills, but have you honed them? Not in the slightest bit, your presence on Dynasty has made as much of an impact as the ones on ShowDown and Voltage. You've beaten Drastik, congratulations. You've beaten The Pizza Boy, so have I... and then you lost to the "choke artist" as most would love to address him as, Lucian Black. Shouldn't you of known, at that point that you weren't a deserving contender? You couldn't even compete for the crown, what makes you think that losing would make you eligible to compete for the gold? That's not even the best part, that's not the loss that had me rolling --- it's the one you suffered to The Heart Break Boy. Oh, did I take notice of you in that short lived rivalry... you swore to end his being. You mocked him, you made fun of him, and you underestimated the legend that is. Where did that get you? That got you NOWHERE, HE SUPERKICKED YOUR JAW, AND YOU LOST. You know who didn't lose against The Heart Break Boy? Brian Daniels. And ever since then, The Heart Break Boy has thought highly of me, more than he did before. He's one of the most respectful legends, and Hall of Famers this company has come to known, and it made me laugh that you thought there was the slightest chance that you would end his legacy. You won't even make it far enough to END MY LONGEST WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP REIGN EVER. For weeks, all we've done have beat each others heads in, until we were restrained... or knocked out cold. There hasn't been enough time for talk, and it saddens me, I love using my vocal cords to pin point every flaw my opposition has. And you? You're wreaking reeking with flaws. I'm not saying that each of us don't share some sort of "flaw", but you have such the backwards story here. You consider yourself "the answer", and you title me "the problem"... well, if that were the case. Why has nobody been able to fix the problem? Why would anyone rely on you to fix it? Where's the answers of your greatest defeats? No, no, no... don't tell me, when the chips are all in, and my hand is better than yours - it's going to be a "fluke" win. This match won't be determined on who's better than who, oh no... not for Scott Oasis, he's more determined on saving his face when he loses.

I know you're shaking, you're shivering, you're downright worried about the post-match results. Do you know what makes this better for me? I'm not like you, I'm not sweating puddles. I have confidence in myself, but even if you manage to best me at Reckless Wiring --- even if you manage to somehow prove you were the better man that night. I know I'll be able to get back up, I'll be able to adapt to every newer situation that's dead in front of me. And you know what becomes my greatest task at hand after losing this belt? Getting it back, to become a three time World Heavyweight Champion, to break the record that is almost beaten. I'll do it all again, and it won't phase me whatsoever. The process of getting back on top brings me joy, for you --- it brings you grief, it tortures your very existence in this company to know you're not on top yet. Doesn't it? You LUST for what I have, and you KNOW that it won't be easily handed over to you. You've already proven that you will do whatever it takes to attain it, but have you ever considered the facts that I'll do whatever it takes to retain it? I couldn't careless what kind of environment we're locked in... I fear it not. It's not me being locked inside the structure with a beast, it's you being locked inside the cage with the dragon. I'll beat your head against the glass until it shatters, I'll electrocute your body until it's rendered useless, and I'll make you suffer to the point where you want to escape over the barbwire that's wrapped around the cage. You're lying to yourself if you dare say you fear the unpredictability of not of the stipulation, but of myself. I'm already undefeated in two of these, why not go a third? You may have claimed you'll defeat me in the one I haven't won in, but clearly you've been mistaken. I love to win, as much as the next guy behind me does, and my determination to set records, to keep hold of my World Heavyweight Championship, and to break the boundary that's set before us--- that's what will guide me to victory. And you know what's better? I don't feel the envy --- I'm not envious of those who are highly praised, I've done enough to set a standard for the following champion after me. Whether it be Tig Kelly, Jaywalker, Lucian Black... I'll ensure that whoever come after me EARNS IT. You on the other hand? I'll ensure that the next time you come looking around for trouble again, that you'll actually come back prepared. I intend to make an example out of you, I intend to show you why you took the wrong approach against me. And defeating you? It'll just mark the milestone, and my success will progress to become the greatest success story in history.

224 days.

7 months, and eleven days.

Everlasting.

I get it. You try to pull this shtick where you turn your opponent's logic against them to bait them into getting defensive even though they have absolutely nothing to prove to you. And you've achieved a mastery of this skill, really, controlling the pace and fooling your enemy using the oldest trick in the book. I can respect that; there's no shame in pulling the wool over someone's eyes to gain a competitive advantage and draw in the favor of the public, but while that kind of subterfuge would work ten times out of ten on regular man, it doesn't even graze The Machine's armor. Your words and your decrees and that indignant holier-than-thou finger you point at me like you're about to do something when in reality you're frozen still, none of those cheap overdone parlor tricks can stifle my composure and you goddamn well know it. You can throw sophomoric barbs at my partner and I from dusk till dawn, but it's just the same diarrhea-of-the-mouth disease that the rest of EAW's roster is afflicted with; all flair and no substance. When I call myself The Machine, I don't mean I'm going to start shooting lasers from my eyes or firing bullets from my fingers, but that I have risen beyond the limits of normal men and I have detached myself completely from the kind of emotion that in precarious times like these... Used to hold me back. That's a concept you brainless frolicking monkeys are too thickheaded to grasp because your horizons are narrow and mine are broad. Tell me, what major revolution succeeded without any enemy attacks or allied corpses piling up along the way? That's why they're called revolutions, because there are always going to be stagnant stragglers trailing behind everyone else that are scared of the cutting-edge because their only comfort is in the monotonous normalcy of their daily lives. Even if those "lives" mean absolutely nothing without freedom, the oppressors condition their victims to believe their movement is righteous until they've completely brainwashed them and the imprisoned start sympathizing with the captors. That's what the beleaguered masses of this slowly crumbling industry have been deluded into thinking, and I blame you because I know you more than anyone are aware of what's happening and not only refuse to endorse Hexa-gun; you further divide these wrestlers and you start arbitrarily ascribing yourself as a "leader" even though your sole accomplishment, your game-changing selling point, is to perpetuate the cancer that's been ailing this company. You? You're neither a victim nor a leader; you're an enabler. I'm a tragic hero, because I'm destined to be horribly unappreciated and even demonized by the EAW denizens, staffers, and pundits DESPITE the fact that my primary objective through and through is to help the company flourish! AND YOU, WHO IS PRAISED, HERALDED, AND EXALTED, WHO IS STEALING THE SPOTLIGHT THAT I ALONE HAVE TOILED THROUGH BOTH THE GRIM AND THE GLORIOUS TO EARN, WILL BE THE REASON IT PERISHES!

Mr. DEDEDE can gift-wrap his propaganda with hearts and diamonds, but it doesn't matter; essentially what he's implying is that I should apologize for being a maverick of this sport that has the balls to defy the status quo. I should apologize for going against the grain and dropping out of the consensus. I should apologize for wholeheartedly believing that EAW needs more extremists and less petulant pansy, beta male "elitists." I feel like a broken record, I have to repeatedly explain myself to people like you who constantly prove that ignorance truly is bliss. After I faced Tyler Parker at Pain for Pride 7, I had to recover, I had to rehab, and I needed a disguise that would clear me of suspicion. Am I proud of the "Quality Control" days? It's completely irrelevant, and so is my feigned alliance with Zack Crash, because what you'll soon come to discover is that when trying to reach a goal, how you get there doesn't matter at all.

If anything, the fact I willfully trudged through the mud and subjected myself to the hell of pretending to be an "elite" follower only to later reveal my true colors and come back fortified in the armor of extreme proves that I, and not you, am the most trustworthy candidate to lead EAW into its next generation. You could never withstand the trials I survived through because you don't practice the art of subtlety; you can claim your two or three career singles victories over me equate to a mountain of evidence supporting your case, but in reality, contrary to what that Answers World Championship normally represents, Hexa-gun's ownership of Voltage proves beyond any shadow of a doubt that right now? You've lurched two steps backward while I've raced two forward, and now you're in my rearview mirror.

But you're wired just a tad differently than I, because you're merely a man; you can't possibly keep pace with The Machine, but if I know Mr. DEDEDE like I think I do, you're a trooper who's going to ignore the probabilities and keep on chugging in the face of all adversity because you earnestly think you're the architect of your own destiny. I agree, nobody has competed in more stomach-turning, grimace-inducing, bloody, barbaric matches than Mr. DEDEDE, but in calling yourself the "paragon of extreme" you just elucidate to everyone else what I've known to be painfully obvious the whole time -- you're a prisoner of your own pride. You boast about your affinity for the hardcore, but have done exactly NOTHING to remind today's audience of yesterday's greatness. The biggest shrine of worship and respect to the legend of Mr. DEDEDE is in his own head. Why bother with a church when the only God you believe in is yourself? When you wake up, sleep, eat, and breathe surrounded by your own thoughts, all of that IS your place of reverence. You think you can lead a generation of followers when you're so narrow-minded you don't even attempt to see beyond your own spectrum. And anything that doesn't exist within that spectrum is thusly deemed irrelevant by you, because the only matters of importance are the ones that involve yourself. And who better than I, The Greed Incarnate, to discern this? You can knock my creativity, call me a snake oil salesman, trivialize my contributions to the "E" in "extreme," but the fact of the matter is that if anyone else is capable of being shrewd enough to comprehend your current plane of understanding, it is ME. And what is Y2Impact? A machine who lives for combat and actively searches for the toughest opponents in pursuit of the title "The Strongest." A leader that takes responsibility for all of his team's failures and defers the credit for all of its successes to his teammates, a philosophy that flies way over the head of somebody whose been known throughout his career as a lone wolf and operates accordingly. Hell, this rang true at Territorial Invasion when your team failed to defeat Hexa-gun and Pizza Boy somehow ended up being the sole survivor after you were abruptly eliminated by Tiberius Jones. We cut the head off of its leader, suddenly Team DEDEDE was in shambles, and before you knew it Hexa-gun was standing tall and Mr. DEDEDE was bottling up that loss and storing it away in the deepest recesses of his consciousness, never to be recalled again. But the fact of the matter is that despite the bravado and the magniloquent exterior that keeps idiots eating out of the palm of your hands, you need to be an opportunist because you AREN'T a God. You're just a mortal man who drinks coffee in the morning, brushes his teeth, breathes in the same air as everyone else, and bleeds when your skin is pierced by glass like everyone else does. Your ass wasn't a deity when I hit you with The Evisceration on the EAW Finale just a week after Pain for Pride and proved one loss wasn't going to faze me, let alone define my career. You weren't a deity when the Heart Break Gal pinned you at last year's Pain for Pride and The Mercenaries walked out with the Tag Team Championships. You weren't a deity when Ryan Savage came within moments of winning your Answers World Championship at King of Extreme, and come Reckless Wiring when you stare The Machine in its eyes, I'm going to write a tale of my own that I'll bet a goddamn mortgage won't be included in your autobiography when I smack the fucking taste out of your mouth.

But what I find even more hilarious, what joggles all of my body's extremities as I roll on the floor in utter disbelief, is the fact that you think I should relish the chance I have at Reckless Wiring because it presents me with an opportunity to face you, like that's some fortunate, once-in-a-lifetime chance I should be grateful to have. You may be right, to the average "elitist" you're a meal ticket superstar that launches underground wrestlers' careers into the mainstream, but against Y2Impact? You're just another recalcitrant piece of garbage challenging my reign over Voltage that happens to carry around a championship. But the fact of the matter is that our match at Reckless Wiring for the Answers World Championship isn't an opportunity you gave me; it's an opportunity I rightfully gave myself that you had no jurisdiction to overturn. In reality, a place you don't regularly visit, my fate's been in my own hands all along because I dictate what happens, I make the decisions, I LINE YOUR POCKETS AND I WRITE THE FUCKING CHECKS YOU CASH BECAUSE I'M YOUR BOSS! I don't have to prop up other wrestlers I've beaten on a pedestal to stick to my conviction that I'm the best in this whole fucking business. You want to approach Reckless Wiring as if you're fighting Liam Catterson or Ryan Savage? Go right ahead you punk-ass failed leader mutineer, I DARE YOU! Because if you prepare like that's your strategy, you'll wake up in the morning after Reckless Wiring in some hospital in Kansas City with broken teeth and bandages covering your entire body and a bouquet for your troubles signed: "New Answers World Champion, Y2Impact," and every wrestling fan in the world from Nigeria to Shanghai to Tokyo to Texas will see how much of a "God" you really are.