It burns a hole deep inside of me to realize that while most people here probably don't know me because EAW has changed since the last time I was fully in the thick of things. As much as people claim to know me, they have no idea who I am. Maybe I don't have any idea who I am, what is the real me? Is the real me even Christopher Coleman? Is the real me what you see on television constantly fighting and brawling with not a care in the world. Frenzied is what they call me, out of control. A maniac. Why can't I simply just be fighter? Ever since I've returned it hasn't been a whisper, as much as people love the fact that I am, I am judged beyond command to the point where maybe drugs and alcohol was the right route you know? Maybe I need booze and I don't need my fist because I've already caused too much hurt with these hands whether it be to my own family or other men. Judged off an EAW Championship reign, people thinking carrying EAW is an easy job. I return arguably the most popular and beloved and respected fighter on this entire roster yet still where are my title shots? Where is EAW needing me? See whether it's Elite or whether it's extreme it doesn't matter what I've done in the past where it's making the best submit or putting on classic match after classic match, that doesn't mean a lick of shit unless my name is Ryan Adams. They brought me back because I sell tickets, I bring revenue to the company but I've never cared. I am treated like this guy who entered a time machine and ended up in the wrong era. I'm in this era where people think they can talk down to me because I left EAW after losing the EAW Championship and went onto a path that hurt my family, that hurt me. I wasn't a story on TMZ, I wasn't found in some wrestling show at a farm intoxicated with my liver completely finished, I wasn't seen. The path I chose always been the hardest and if there was such thing as a fucking god I wouldn't have had to choose that path and constantly feeling like I've dropped the ball. I gave this company and the world my world of hard work, my family and telling them how much it meant to me to do what I love to do, I gave this company my life and they wanted my death too. And yet here I am still scraping, still fighting, like it's almost five years ago and I am starting out in this company once again. Fact is I can't change what I fucked up in, I can't change what I did to men in the past to make my mark in this industry, and I wouldn't change it. I was running through people in this company at 85%, I wasn't healthy, my body was in it, my heart, my soul, but my mind took it for granted. Wrestling hurt for the longest time and then carrying EAW on my back, people forget that while holding that championship I beat the best Voltage had to offer in a Fatal Four Way, I was constantly the target on everyone's radar because I wasn't the image of this new elite EAW. This isn't my era, this pussy era is meant for guys like Carson Ramsay, this pussy era is meant for guys like Eclipse Diemos. So people did everything they could to take the title off me and they did, they ended it and here I was hitting the booze, hitting the pills, my path of rage, every dark fucking park of my body that burned into my veins gone. 

I became a veteran. And with being a veteran I received the veteran treatment of “OH YOUR TAKING MY SPOTLIGHT, YOUR BACK FOR A PAIN FOR PRIDE SPOT YOU DON'T EVEN DESERVE”. What made Diamond Cage get back to 100%? It wasn't any act of god, it wasn't any seeing the light. It was knowing that when it came down to it I've busted my ass as hard as Tyler Parker, Brian Daniels, any fucking person who left this company and had to come back I busted my ass hard if not harder and yet my name, MY FUCKING NAME  ISN'T IN YOUR LITTLE HALL OF FAMES OR YOUR LITTLE TOP 10'S INSTEAD I'VE ALLOWED MY NAME TO BE SHITTED ON BY THESE PIECES OF SHIT! So now the path of rage of Diamond Cage was healthy again at 100% and now that my path of rage and pain is back at 100% how bad do you think I want to get back to running this joint? How much do you think I am willing to go through to achieve the spot that was taken from me? How much pain and broken bodies am I willing to leave behind me until I am the only one in this entire fucking dressing room at the top of the fucking food chain once again the unstoppable force, the man to beat. And the constant chatter of what my title reign was, the constant chatter of allowing Dark Demon to get the better over me, I can no longer hide the truth. It bothers me a lot, it cuts deep into my fucking skin like a bug, a cancer and I just wanna rip it out. I find it funny my words are looked at as bitching when you were the same one pissing your panties about the fact that guys like Starr and Scott and myself are back in EAW taking opportunities from guys who work day and night. Coward really isn't in my vocabulary but if that's the case then you are simply a hypocrite. A man looking to silence all these mouths yet he hears nothing but himself, the only voice in the world you can here is yourself and you force yourself to believe that whatever comes out of your mouth is the truth, like that's the way it is because I am Carson Ramsay and my words are golden. It's bitching to you because you've never worked hard for anything in this business, a guy like you isn't taking the path a guy like me took because my path is something different from anyone. You are facing a man by the name of Starr Stan at Pain for Pride albeit I didn't get what I wanted two years ago because of Starr Stan , I mean it's clear as day when you go back and watch that Grand Rampage event from two years ago. But then I did what nobody thought I could do, and it didn't require me turning the match into a chaotic bar room brawl, it didn't require buckets of blood being left everywhere. I proved that being the most dangerous man isn't a marketing tool, I say it because I AM IT. I prove IT, EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! And I proved it that night when I beat Starr Stan at his own game. I've proven it, yet all you've proven is that you have a really big mouth. I am not hiding behind anything, this is the hand I've been dealt and damn it I accept it. I am willing to do it all again, start from the bottom all again. Because If there's one thing that will never die no matter how many times I want to say fuck this business, or fuck this industry the one thing that will never die is my fire and desire to get up whenever times get hard, dust myself off and put my hands up ready to fight. Yeah I got my ass kicked before, yeah I got fucked over, or yeah maybe I cracked under the pressure of being the man that runs this place. But I am back, harder, stronger, faster, and not liking the feeling of getting my ass kicked anymore and I am ready to fight. I've never been a patient man, being patient is an excuse for fools like you to follow, they tell fools like you to be patient and your time will come because honestly your time will never come. What is time? Carson? The show starts when I get there, the fight starts when I get there? Who relies on time any more? I sure as hell didn't, it's either now or never. That's what my career was and still is based on. Maybe that's why I am admired by so many people, because that feeling of maybe one day I'll never lace up my boots again after an encounter, that excites me and that is why I give it my all. Like I will do in that No Holds Barred Fight with Scott Diamond, I am going to seek and destroy at Pain for Pride like only the sadistic entente can. I'll do the same at Turbo because I've honestly lost it all, I'm a broken man and that only leaves me with nothing to lose and it leaves willing to fight to my last breath and if I go down, I go down swinging for the fences but I can't go down because I won't allow myself to go down to the likes of you, Scott or anybody for that matter. As long as these lungs still connect air, you can't beat me son. I did fly off the handle, I wear my heart on my shoulder, the passion I have is undeniable and it often resembles me becoming a babbling buffoon. But I am not a babbling buffoon, I am not a lunatic, I am not crazy, I just know what it takes to get what I want. And damn it if I have to run through you to get to tomorrow I will Carson, because that's life. That's my life, that's what I was raised on. I don't have time to think during battle, if I use my mind during a fight it's going to get splattered all over the fucking canvas, I'm a street dog, I'm a cold blooded warrior. And I don't need to advertise myself, this fight doesn't need advertisement, my name is on the card and asses are in seats, and I have these people's full and undivided attention. Come Turbo, with the lights on bright you'll have MY full and undivided and attention and I am going to focus my energy on running you down and getting closer to the show where I'll do things I wouldn't do on a normal day, Pain for Pride.

I'm disappointed by you, DC. I really am. Initially, I tried my best to browse your history and flip the pages of your career leading up to present time without allowing disappointment to set in; although a lot of the ink did tempt me to. Sadly as soon as you parted lips to speak about what I had to say earlier, the last straw was drawn. For whatever reason, you have gone about your speech in an infuriated tone, popping at the first tug of your strings; which is kind of sad. I get that you are professed to be the most dangerous man on the planet and that each day, you need to examplify that moniker in what you do and say. However it is one thing to talk like a marketing puppet on the microphone, it is another to cry out jeers of a modern day teenager who never sleeps at night without soaking up their pillow with tears. To be honest though, I almost mustered out a couple of my own actually; not for you of course since that would be a waste of emotion but rather for the company as a whole. And I owe it all to the thought of EAW being spearheaded by such an attention craving man-whore. Let us just dissect DC's situation for a minute; the name in question happens to have a fancy set of accomplishments adhered to it. From Tag Team to Interwire and of course EAW championship glory, DC is obviously no stranger to soaking up gold showers. Howbeit to someone free of that knowledge and who only listens to what spews out of Mister Cage's hole, that wouldn't be so apparent. Reason being that regardless of how many boulders he has managed to roll up a hill, DC only opens his mouth to bitch and complain about them not staying at the top. Gratitude has seemingly never once graced DC's dictionary. Instead, he lurks around spitting darts of envy at those who clawed their way under their own share of the spotlight. It is somewhat self-contradicting that here stands Diamond Cage, trying to substantiate the argument of EAW not appreciating him enough to need his presence but at the same FUCKING TIME NOT HAVING THE BALLS TO STICK AROUND AND ASCERTAIN THAT SHIT OUT HIMSELF. Even a third-person perspective of this is enough to hammer out  the crux of your shtick, DC; you are a coward. You hide behind forejudged assumptions of what could happen based on this and according to that, without ever lending thought to perhaps staying in the mud and finding out if rain is a possibility. Go on though, list the names that supposedly adopted the same walking-off-into-the-fuckin'-sunset shtick only to come back and get championship opportunities shoved up their asses while you are belittled to the same treatment of the past. Just don't go bending the knee in some church, to seek out an answer as to why you are still dangling by a shoe lace at the mid-card's totem pole. It is simple DC, dwelling on how fate's got it for you by scribbling lines of comparison to other people is only gonna make your situation worse. Well, that and thinking the roars of thousands of people actually counts for something achievement-wise. Because it doesn't. No legend or Hall of Famer in this business is credited for how many fans they have garnered in their first years or how many screams they have provoked out of them upon their returns, on their way out the door. Granted, it is a nice bonus to adorn the collection but never a necessity. If it was, half of EAW's locker room would be Hall of Fame bound by now; but of course not everyone is fit to put on the ring. You need to have concrete proof of your eligibility to it and admittedly DC, you got that part covered. You are also required to have a respectable image in the public which you...kinda' have too, from the Grand Rampage reaction alone at least. Moreover, and this is where you stray off path, you have to establish a marriage between indomitability and patience. In your situation, the former is a companionless entity which is a tragedy; because the only aspect lacking is also the only step left for you to go for the legendary status that you so desperately crave to be yours. It won't happen though, not anytime soon anyway because as you have proven to me and the whole word; DC, you are an impatient - not to mention naggy - son of a bitch.

Which shrinks down our dilemma to a feasible size. Stop bitching. A simple pair of words, an even simpler course of action. Not only could that serve as a solution to your incessant misery, but it is sure as hell gonna make my job a lot more interesting as well. You see DC, verbally dismantling my opposition before the physical adaptation of it has risen atop my chart of hobbies. Why? Because it challenges me to scratch up ways and tactics to get under my counterpart's skin and thus, compel them to lose their balance before our match even commences. And I have really relished that challenge until YOU joined in the fray and made it too easy. It is like I stated before, one push of the button is all it took for you to go in panic mode and start firing on all cylinders; choking on that "I'm special! I busted my ass for everything unlike the others!" mantra worse than Sekaiichi had you choke on that crown a couple of years ago. King of Extreme, or is it called Elite now? Regardless, quite the entertaining show I must say. I had it turned on last night and I was specifically amazed by your work against Jaywalker, DC. I bet the synonymity to a Cinderella tale sparked from there for you, right? That the only way is up now and destiny is finally batting an eyelash at you. Boy, I can't even begin to imagine how you felt when you lost. I was really pulling for you, man. Just like I was pulling for you against Dark Demon at the Grand Rampage of that same year, but we got Starr Stan to blame for that right? Shame though, because I really wanted to see the emotion pour out of EAW's resident loose cannon as he held that Answers World title high. It goes to show that we don't always get what we want; you hear that, DC? SOMETIMES, WIND DOESN'T BLOW AS THE VESSELS WISH! Drink it up, soak it in and come to grips with it before you are thrust back to shore. I don't care about the number of opportunities that you believe to be most deserving of but never was granted, I don't care about how you view others, especially me; I simply don't care for how you seek to shape a past that it is long gone. You shouldn't either, no. You should channel your entire focus on coping with the present and preparing for the future. You got Scott Diamond at Pain for Pride in arguably the event's goriest showcase planned, that is your future. And then you have got yours truly gunning to achieve the peak of all PFP momentums by beating you at Turbo, THAT is your present. It just so happens that your present is looking to soil your preparations for the future. It is nothing personal DC, you are just another mouth I need to silence.

The camera opens inside Bo and Tye's Pizzeria, where Pizza Boy sits in the lobby with his feet up on the table as he looks at his nails, seemingly bored as a small baby in pink sits across from him asleep in her booster seat.  Bo comes through with a dishrag in hand.  He stops at the table and smiles.

Bo: Ya hear that JJ Silvia guy's new promo?

PB: Yeah, me and the kid were listening to it.

Bo: Any feelings about it?

PB: The kid's asleep isn't she?

Bo: Hardy har.

PB: Seriously.  I know it's dead around here today, but I've had a bigger barrel of laughs flipping pasta at the wall with the kid than listening to this guy drone on and contradict himself. 'I do it for the people', 'I don't care about the people,' 'I respect you', 'you're arrogant.' 'I'm an honorable man but hail Omerta', 'I'm complacent with my place as champion, but how 'bout that Aries Vendetta and his gold?' It's like reading all of the antonyms in a Thesaurus lined up out of alphabetical order.  

Bo: Yeah, he does seem a bit long winded and politician like. 

PB: I feel like he's going to turn blue in the face trying to convince me, and himself, of his true nature.

Bo: Are you scared?

PB: He seems to want me to be.  Usually the guys who want me to be scared are pretty rough fights, but I usually pull through in the end.  

Bo: He seems like he's out to make your life a living hell

Pizza Boy gives a solemn and knowing smirk

PB: He can take a number.  

Bo: You're damn straight he can take a number, especially if you and Angel here keep flinging pasta at my walls.

Bo playfully slaps PB's shoulder with his wash cloth and storms to the back melodramatically.  Pizza Boy smirks at his old boss's actions, and then cuts his eyes at the still sleeping Angelhair, whose mere inches away from face planting into a bowl of spaghettio's in her sleep.  He smiles and moves the plate, replacing it with a soft pile of napkins just before the small child's drooling face makes contact.  He looks up at the camera, smiling for a moment as he nods toward the child, and then settles into his seat with a huff, knowing it's time to get down to business.

PB: Innocent, hard working, integrity, these are words you spout off like a campaign poster, but I'm not sure if you know what they mean JJ.  I also doubt you understand what 'complacent' means, considering you talk like that title's getting a little too light for you to carry.  Even if you were complacent it isn't a good thing.  There's no admiration for a man who settles for the easy path, no love for an individual who settles for second,hell maybe third place considering the title count in EAW. You can't be hard working and rest on your laurels, you can't be innocent when your hands are dirtied with crime, and you can't have integrity if you can wake up and accept both of those facts about yourself on a daily basis.  You seem so agitated that I look past you and you mistake it for insolence or inexperience when in fact it's neither.  I know guys like you.  You're the type to stay where you are and accept what's handed to you and you'll sell your soul to the first vendor that offers you a cent to feel safe and stagnate.  That's the real word, JJ.  Complacent has too much of a positive connotation.  You're stuck in the same place, holding the same gold, feeling the same as the day you won it, and you know just as well as I do that eventually that feeling wont be enough to keep you happy and towing the line.  I mean, there's no other reason to have Aries Vendetta's name on your lips if you aren't constantly thinking about taking his gold.  I didn't bring him up, you did.  Yet somehow you come off like a neutered dog talking about him, my little yap, yap, yapper.  Are you afraid of him too? Is that what keeps the little puppy piddling on his papers and smiling obediently?  I'm off track aren't I? I mean, I'm not rambling about nothing to try and hide my fear like you, but I'm deviating from my point.  You're agitated that I overlook you because you're afraid I'm right.  That's why you're listing off your accomplishments, spouting off the tired do gooder act of 'doing it for the people who pay to see the best'.  I was trained by a man whose probably put more asses in seats fighting a hobo over a raccoon than you ever will as the dullard champion pretending to be happy with bronze.  You're not doing it for anyone but you.  You want me to say I'll give you my all, because being beaten by a man giving his all isn't an embarrassment and beating a man giving his all is an achievement, but the truth is I can't physically give you my all because Omerta and those three stooges Drake, Jones, and Judas have obliterated me at every turn with those bum rush assaults you so vocally abhor.

Pizza Boy rolls his eyes and puffs a breath of frustration.

PB: But you're pro-Omerta, aren't you? My my, such a wishy washy man you are.  But it's no matter, JJ.  You're still going to lose to me.  Even though I feel ho-hum about this match and devoid of emotion about you as a whole I'm still going to beat you.  It'll be a meh victory that I'll forget about a week from now, which is sad because I know that a man with such an ego and false aura of self-importance like yourself will truly suffer from it, despite how truly glib your heir of dignity really is.  You don't deserve my hard work.  You don't deserve the blood, sweat, and tears I put into the accomplishments I'm proud of.  You're not even worthy of the dirt under my fingernails because you are in fact a hypocrite that stares at me and sees everything he truly wishes to be and every thing he lies about being.  I'm giving you what you give the world, and that's sub par mediocrity lined in thin gold flake.  Clutch on to your mediocrity while it lasts, because I'm going to prove at Dynasty that the Iconomy's gone belly up while simply breaking even.  Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a poopy diaper to change in a baby that's about to wake up screaming and crying in three, two-

Angelhair; WAAAAAAHUHUH!

Pizza Boy quickly pops out of his chair and scoops the little crying baby girl out of her booster seat and makes a beeline for the bathroom.

The camera opens backstage where Barney M. Bailey's pestering a fairly frustrated looking Pizza Boy with cocktail napkin drawings and ink stained scribbles.

BMB: See, kid? I've got it all figured out.  We're going to save Tony from those thugs and get you back in the right head space.

PB: Barney, it's sweet and all, but your plans look like the back of a children's cereal box.  

BMB: Yeah, but, see, I know what I'm doing so you don't have to worry about it.  Just worry about Silvia.

PB: I don't know.  He seems to want me to worry about him.  He keeps trying to press my buttons with talks of religion and Omerta, and then he tries to back off like it's just some match and my opinion of him doesn't matter.  It's kind of childish.

BMB: Heh, yeah.  Tell me about it.

Pizza Boy's eyes catch sight of something strange in Barney's crumbled up plans.

PB: Is that a Denny's place mat?

BMB; I uh....I just grabbed anything I could write on kid.

PB: Yeah, but you didn't have to complete the Junior Jumble.

BMB: Hey kid, I gotta go, ya know? Important business.

PB: Awww, Barney got flustered!

BMB: Yeah, I, uh, gee look at the time

PB: Hey wait a second man we need to talk.

BMB: Oh yeah? What about? You know I'm always here for ya kid.

PB: We need to talk about Omerta...

BMB:...

PB: And us...

BMB:...

PB: When you suckered me in to being a wrestler you said some crime syndicate was after you.  Was it-

BMB: Listen, kid, I gotta go.  

PB: And you've been hanging about quite a bit since Judas and Drake and Jones tapped Omerta, kind of like you felt guilty for it's presence here.  Now I thought you were talking BS to keep me scared and working for you, but as soon as you and I parted ways and your cash cow left the barn, it feels like more and more nefarious groups start to come after me.

BMB: Kid, listen, I really have to go. 

PB: Now hold on a minute.  When you first abducted me.

BMB: Kid...

PB: You also had Tony more or less chained up in your back yard like a pet, and now they have Tony, and it's like they singled out Rolland instead of going after you or Percy.  It's like they're trying to send a message, but I'm not quite sure who it's to.

Barney plants a thick meaty hand on Pizza Boy's shoulder.  By the expression on PB's face, it's clear that he's squeezing it in a deceptively strong and painful manner.  Barney takes off his blue blockers and looks in his client's eyes with the sternest of gazes.

BMB: Don't go diggin' for answers in a cemetery.  All you're going to find is skeletons and 6 feet of trouble.

PB: Oh...uhum....

Pizza swallows hard.  Seeing he's reverted his former clientele to the naive mess he found standing on his doorstep over a year ago, Barney's demeanor turns back to the bumbling and cheerful carny, which doesn't seem to do much to alleviate PB.  He tussles the kid's hair and walks off.  PB's eyes cut around the hallway in astonishment,before the land on the camera.  He plasters on a fake smile of his own and turns to face the AV equipment.

PB: I'm guessing little doggy's still a' barkin', huh? Yeah, JJ.  You're right.  Ya caught me, I'm an imperfect man.  As a Catholic I'm pretty damn close to lapsed, as a National Champion I was uninspired and resentful, and as a wrestler and a man I come up pretty naive of my surroundings, but that's to be expected of a 21 year old kid that's fairly new to the business.  Any new gems or pearls of wisdom you care to drop, oh great senpai? because not only do I know those shortcomings to be true, I've heard accusations of each and every one of them not only come from every single opponent's mouth that I've faced, but also my own.  However, considering me an eviscerating sadist is quite a new one for me.  I gotta say, you're giving me too much credit.  Sure, I go after the blood of men whom take my own, but that's only after they draw blood first.  You? I don't want your blood, despite how you try to instigate something out of me.  To me you're still one of those sidelined player.  Sure, you're playing cheerleader for Omerta, but what have you done for them lately? Or me for that matter? What have you done to me lately? Win a title I don't care about? Chant 'Rah Rah Ree, Kick'em in the Knee' in the back while Omerta and the like pummel me and psychologically torture me? because I must say, it's going to take a lot more than 'hail hydra' to get me pissed off at a wayside masochist like yourself.  

   You say that you're complacent, you say you're happy with where you're at in life, but guys like you don't come picking fights with me because their careers are going swimmingly.  Usually they're trying to make a name for themselves at my expense, and while I know you're not directly responsible for you and I going toe to toe, and that you're not one of the many that's attacked me from behind physically to get my attention...I mean...I think...

Pizza Boy rubs the back of his head and stares off in the distance with a bit of fear in his face.

PB: one, two, three-nope, I don't think there are any unaccounted for new knots.  Granted, my memory's hazy and all.  Head trauma will do that to a guy.  You have the gold, but you seem to be lacking the attention that a degenerate narcissist such as yourself begs for.  The problem seems to be that you don't think your hands are dirty enough to take the initiative of guys like Drake, Jones, Judas, and Mexican Samurai and blindside me, which in a sick way, makes them a tad more admirable than you.  Instead you'd rather pick a fight from the distance, even though I'm beaten and pummeled beyond repair.  

Why?

Scared?

Lazy?

Entitled?

   I'd wager all three considering your silver spoon background, but pardon me for playing dropout psych major with your life, but it seems to be something that you're into. Men like you seem to want me to crucify myself for all of my misgivings as a human being, and you seem all the more resentful of my sin because I own up to it instead of hiding behind smug and self-assured lies.  Is that what you're really afraid of JJ? Someone who shows vulnerability? Someone who speaks their mind, locker room and management be damned? Someone whom limps into a match instead of swaggering to hide the pain? Someone who values a loss as a learning experience instead of flipping his shit when life doesn't go his way? Someone whose not afraid to flip his shit when men like you,not you in particular because you're more cowardly than coward hiding behind words instead of actions, but men like you try to take everything you've built, loved, and admired and burn it to the ground?! Is that what you're afraid of!?! Huh!?! THE FACADE SLIPPING TO REVEAL WHAT YOU REALLY ARE UNDERNEATH!?! ME SEEING EVERY SINGLE BLACK SPOT IN YOUR BLUE BLOODED HEART?!

Pizza Boy lunges at the camera, madness in his eyes as he puffs up in fight position.

PB: Are you afraid of me seeing through all of your bullshit and seeing the poor little rich boy on the other side? The one who fights because it fills the void that absentee Daddy Warbucks left? Are you afraid I'm going to see the kicking and screaming, breath holding, tantrum having little brat under the prize fighter mask? Playin' dress up with bruises and cuts to hide the cherub faced, snot nosed, neglected little Antichrist that was raised by nanny's and ring rats whom actually lived out in the real world and knew what being a somebody with nothing instead of a nobody with money is like.  I hate to tell you, JJ, but street cred isn't an STD.  But OK, little doggy.  If you want the pizza boy's attention, if you want to taste my rage, if you really want that match that puts you on the map as someone who knows how to survive in the real world instead of buying loyalty and gold...

Pizza Boy smiles, dropping all hostilities and tension as his body relaxes.

PB: Well, tough.  Like I said, you don't deserve the spanking you're asking for, and considering you won a title off of someone, I'm sure you've gotten your little boy rocks off already from a previous asswhoopin' and it did you no good.  Like I said, I'm not a sadist, I'm not a therapist, and I'm simply not interested in yappin' little teacup chihuahuas with napoleon complexes.  I'll see you at Dynasty, JJ.  It'll be a treat to coast through you on my way to Pain For Pride.

Pizza boy tries to hold back a giggle as he holds his hand up in a half-assed salute.

PB: Pfffhahahah, hail Omerta.  He says it like it's going to trigger something.

Pizza Boy chuckles and shakes his head in disbelief at the camera before turning and leaving, laughing under his breath as he turns into a blurry figure in the distance before the camera finally turns off.

Half truths seen as crystal clear to only the foolish. You're right, I am a force of nature leaving nothing behind but the often familiar touch of despair and the ugly sound of foes gnashing their teeth as they live in pain when they step into the ring with me. Yet you question if that pain is perpetual when even the harshest critic wouldn’t dare go that route? Ask the band of brothers I found myself fighting for when I still questioned what it was that I sought after, if my betrayal didn't leave them in ruin. Look at how my archrival's brother walks into Elite Answers Wrestling desperately trying to find a way to bring his family's name back to prestige despite knowing he doesn’t have the tools at all to do that. I returned and in an instant, destroyed two careers, a legend feared and a promising rookie presented on a silver platter. You may have had a point if you told me this years ago when the sight of someone like you would have caused me to question my abilities. I was a man once incapable of putting a dent to anyone’s ambitions but now I crush the hopes and dreams of hundreds as I chase my own. Obstacles become hurdles I can easily hop over and the pain which breaks down the average unlucky wrestler only serves as fuel for me to keep walking for the goal which I know I’m getting close to, which I can almost touch. I have not lost against a sole competitor since coming back; my matches have all become a blur no matter if my foe can boast of grabbing gold, no matter if trainers rush to say they’re the one who taught him or if he’s on the verge of collapse dreaming of brighter days. When you grip your fists, do you believe they are capable of knocking me out, Judas? Thousands across the globe place their faith in me to grab you by the throat and put an end to a beast who has terrorized the brand which has always been my home. As if I am a knight assigned to get rid of a band of robbers starting with you. Who roots for you but your associates you distance yourself from in fear of them being the sword you fall on, who are eager to prop you up and hope that you won’t fail when the odds are at their highest and when miscalculations would put you back to the bottom of the totem pole where you started. But you know it doesn’t matter how many root for us. You know that I like to drown out the sound of the crowd when I am prepared to fight because all I want to hear is the opponent. To hear the subtle noises that hints at his nervousness. To make false moves knowing that will cause him to stumble a little, nearly invisible to the naked human eye and then waiting for that one half-hearted swing, him hoping that the end won’t be painful, but at least coming to terms that there has to be one and that he will be the sole victim. Do you remember what I told you? This isn’t a battle of monster versus monster, nor a battle of man versus the unknown. It’s a battle of reasonable expectations versus chasing the impossible because every move perceived to be meaningless you all made in numerous battles leading up to Pain for Pride only tips the scale in our favor. Because whatever wins you’ve grabbed only prove to be pyrrhic as you did not destroy Pizza Boy on your own, but you have the man coming for you as if you did. As Drake and Jones beat us at Triple Threat, but failed to follow up, only added fuel to the fire when they kidnapped Tony Rolland. It’s uninspired to say, but it’s my prerogative: you act like I am a pawn, but look at things from a more objective viewpoint and you will see only the opposite. You proved that you couldn’t rip the title off Pizza Boy while Drake and Jones proved that their record was only meant to shatter. It is reasonable to say that all the events leading to this moment prove that you will crack under the pressure and that I will save Tony Rolland. You’re chasing after a group of individuals whom you will never catch up to. Trying to get me to react foolishly by threatening to throw me off the edge into obscurity when it’s more rare to find somebody who doesn’t.

It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see me struggle. Often was I the person being chased, never given the time to turn around and refuse to be seen as an easy mark, but then what? If I failed in my quest to become a legend then I would have been just another case of what happens when your ambitions lead you into the abyss. It gives me satisfaction to see you now in the palm of my hands, there is no true escape because even running away gives me exactly what I desire. When I look at you, I see something that is carefully constructed, an image that is suppose to invoke an uncanny valley quality. You like to flirt with the idea that your humanity has slowly waned over the years. Maybe you don’t cloak yourself in darkness, something that has been bubbling under the surface finally revealed itself once your tears finally dried. I like to believe that you regressed to a beast while you like to believe that you’re something more. When we enter that ring, just know that will be the last time that you ever have an air of mystique around you. Whatever fuels you to fight after that will be extinguished and you will have nothing to look forward to but the memory of Pizza Boy charging at you with a full head of steam and taking back his title. Maybe I am a force of nature but it is through coming from nothing and slowly understanding what it means to become a wrestler that I became the legend that stands before you. I don’t rely on smoke and mirrors nor do I mask a part of myself hoping for another chance at life. All my accomplishments are known just as all my failures are. Me not being scared the second I run through the ropes is already one of the reasons why I won’t lose to you. I await this match as it will accelerate the process in which the victors in this war become as clear as day. So many wrestlers in this company deprived from the weapons which once made this promotion death incarnate. It is no surprise that you’re feared when you wrestle as if you got to call yourself an extremist. Maybe you were and now you have numerous weapons at your disposal, but I am sure you are well aware that even with all that I won’t go down so easily. This is a pit where only the strongest are able to climb out of, luck becoming as common as random misfortunes, canceling it. Here you are saying  you're neither a man nor a monster, but those are the words of someone who puffs his chest to make himself seem bigger than he is so that he can cause the large predator to stop showing his fangs and run away, but not only am I standing in place, but I am beginning to run towards you. Because even if that was true, that you're a big other that I can't comprehend, it was once a common thought that I could revert back to the man I once was. An underdog so prone to running away, so how will you stop me from my goal when I’ve destroyed a dozen just like you? Look at your fists once more, and succumb to the bitter fact that nothing can cause the pursuer to stop for any untapped potential has been realized.

Abandon all hope.

You may see this as me locked inside a cage disadvantaged, but tell me what do I have to be scared of? They thought bad habits stemming from juvenile days would muddy my name to the point of no return and when that didn't work, that time would be the death of me, but the hammer intended to put the final nail in the coffin only gave me thicker skin. All this time I was an individualist at heart, atoning for his sins by aligning myself with the few who I can trust so that I may fight for something greater than anything I have obtained. I may be one half of the tag team champions, but understand that I am truly unrestrained when there’s only one opponent I have to deal with, when the only path I have to walk is linear. But that won’t happen, right? You won’t understand the severity of that situation because you still like to believe that I'm just a pawn, trying to find a strategy in a game with a predetermined winner. I am fully aware that you’re dangerous, but you have to ask yourself who will be the one most hurt in the long run. Because you’re not someone in control of your emotions, but rather a wild animal attacking anyone and anything. A beast spiraling out of control facing a man capable of showing the same signs of ferociousness but without any of those drawbacks. It’s funny, people tend to not be able to guess your footwork, believe you to be unpredictable with a wide array of ways to send an opponent crashing to the mat and tap. They may think of you as an enigma but for me, each move you make becomes more predictable than the last because everyone wants to work backwards for some strange reason. People like to make it a game of guessing who you are behind the mask while I look to see why it is that you wear it. Your identity may have been that of a mediocre wrestler without any aspirations for the material goods which energize the common wrestler, simply trying to make enough money to put a roof over his head. Or you may have been a prodigy, with memories meaning more than Pain for Pride bouts. But we both know that doesn’t change the course of events which gives birth to Judas. Only exemplifies just how pitiful your existence is because it is not who you were that assures me that you can’t beat me, but the steps you took to become this new monstrosity. You don’t wear that mask out of pride, nor is it something passed down from generation to generation and therefore legacy. You do it out of desperation, whoever you were in the past felt little to no way out in whatever eviscerated his life and this is your way of reincarnation. What stands before me is a reanimated corpse, inviting me one strike to put it down.


Tell me, what do you think this match wants to convey? Certainly not a battle of two monsters, no, instead it’s reasonable expectations versus chasing the impossible. You place all your faith in that mask and therefore your carefully made identity to fight your way through hordes of opponents in a wild frenzy. Without that faith, you are but skin and bones prone to fall easily to any challenger in your way. It's no wonder you despise the people flocking to Pizza Boy and calling him one of the prime examples of an underdog when you subconsciously understand that you’re not nearly as invincible as many believe, and that one small misstep and your house of cards come crashing down in an instant. When you saw Drake and Jones rushing to your aid, you didn’t have to stay there and accept, but when you looked at them in the eye and shook their hands, just know that sealed your fate and will be regarded as the turning point for poor Judas. I know if a newcomer was in my shoes, he would look at this match and fear what is mistakenly seen as the unknown. I know that many other veterans would head into this match excited for the endless possibilities the match will take him. But I am a man who journeyed into uncharted waters and rose back up unscathed. At some point it stops being exciting, at some point even the most unpredictable join the homogeneous masses which make up this company. What causes me to show even a tinge of emotion for this match is because I see I was once cut from the same cloth as you. A desperate man scared of becoming obsolete as more and more wrestlers with different backstories fill the ranks. Just like you, I scattered around and looked for anything that could function as a weapon against those people. You cloak yourself in darkness while I preferred to be out in the open, controlling the narrative until they were led into believing their downfall was immediate and they would self destruct before my eyes. I destroyed careers, metaphorically and literally stabbed people in the back all because I believed them to be unpredictable and that annoys a man who loves transparency. Years have passed since then and now most of those men can't put a scratch on me, nearly all of them can't knock me off my feet and none of them can defeat me. I may have never met guys like Nemesis, but that didn't stop me from predicting his first and only move as if I fought him a thousand times and won each encounter. I know you most of all Judas as my rise and downfall led me to pull myself out of the same rubble I see you in. However, I am one step ahead of you as I abandoned all I learned from there. I realized all I was going to find was a dead end if I continued to sacrifice my humanity for the promise of more power. This time I won’t be like an executioner humming to himself while lifting his axe from the ground. I won't take pride in what I am going to do to you even if it’s something I’ve done for all my life. This is simply a match. Simply a rescue mission.

And you need to abandon all hope.

The camera opens on the darkened morning talk show set of "Morning Pizza with Tony and the Pizza Boy", however the set stands somewhat offsetting as the usual morning show music isn't present, nor are the silhouettes of Tony and PB in their canvas back director chairs. Footfalls echo through the sound stage, materializing like a ghost in the dead air, as a tiny limping figure makes it's way on set and plops down in one of the two free host chairs.  The lights come up momentarily, accompanied by the customary canned audience approval, only to go back down again as Pizza Boy covers his grotesque form and motions for both the lights and fabricated fanfare to die.  Pizza Boy's figure sits in his chair hunched over like a protagonist in a crime drama, readying himself to die from a gut full of lead.

PB: Today's a special day for me, JJ Silvia.  Do you know why? Every male figure in my life falls a grizzly fate, JJ.  Tony was kidnapped by those three bastards and Omerta, Drake and Jones ended Heart Break Boy's career, and my dad...my dad's another positive role model in a long line of positive role models who fell because of my mistakes and shortcomings as a human being.  Needless to say, Father's Day isn't a favorite holiday of mine.  It drudges up so many demons, so many failures, so many what if's that I'm constantly ill-equipped to face down in any constructive manner.  Instead I find myself alone and perplexed as to how I keep letting this happen to me as I pretend it was Heart Break Boy's choice to leave me, or I pretend that Tony's probably giving those Omerta scumbags one hell of a time with his incessant talking and ability to Bugs Bunny out of any situation if it promises to amuse him, or that my pops is in some protective custody that he couldn't bring me and ma along, but the truth is that Heart Break Boy doesn't deserve my rebellion and angst, Tony Rolland is a fragile minded man, and my father....

PB motions for the booth to bring the lights up.  On cue, the darkness leaves him, save a few bruises and infected looking dark cuts on his body.

PB: I mean, what do you expect JJ? Do you expect me to be in tip-top form and ready for our match? Do you expect to see Tony sitting beside me quipping about some made up nonsense about how the writers didn't ask to use him in this capacity, or Barney M. Bailey back in my life and freshly forgiven? Did you expect to see Brian Daniels or Cyclone? Two men who've reached out to me on multiple occasions, only for me to pull away because I can't handle another hero taking up for my responsibilities? Because none of that's here.  All you get is one mangy looking public servant turned crash dummy pro wrestler with more chips on his shoulder than in his broken down skeletal frame.

PB's body trembles with rage as his eyes struggle to hold back tears and his throat wheezes with a dire need to swallow down every angry and scared emotion within him.

PB: I'm sure you'll pick up the pieces like Butcher, like Judas, like everyone lately to be honest and take advantage of my weak predisposition heading into this match, and I'd love to lie to the both of us and say that all of my frustration and hatred toward that unholy trifecta of monsters is going into beating the living daylights out of you, that you'll be some sort of sick message, or that this is what we both deserve, but it's not.  This wont be the fight of your life, it wont be the best match I've ever had, and there's not a damn thing for you or I to gain from winning or losing this bout.  I'm sure an unreasonable and selfish man like yourself wouldn't understand caring for others, or how distracted I am as I sit idly by while Cyclone fights for my one true friend's life in a game of death I'm not sure anyone can really win.  I'm looking through you, JJ Silvia.  I'm watching what's on the other side waiting for me at Pain For Pride 9.  I'm pensively waiting to see if a pit of vipers owns up to their word, or if Cyclone is capable of even coming close to liberating my one true father figure on this earth.

Pizza Boy stares off in the distance with a disgusted, yet still heartfelt and emotional look on his stress wracked face.

PB: God...isn't that disgusting? I look up to a madman in a mask.  I look up to someone who isn't even a decade older than me, but has been doing this thing we do for a majority of his life.  My father figure is some child prodigy dynamo turned idiot savant.  Does that even give you the slightest idea on how fucked up things are for me right now, JJ?

Pizza Boy sniffles back his tears, finding pride in his own disgust as he glares at the camera.

PB: No, of course not.  You're one of the ones who stands by the wayside, straddling the fence, while men like myself fight this incursion that threatens everything EAW.  You're waiting for them to write the history books while I'm out there bleeding glory and dying in anguish, over and over again with every insurrection pounding at my door and begging me to come out and die again upon the letters of EAW like some sort of kamikaze yo-yo destined to rise and fall over and over again with EAW.  Boy, that alone fills me with enough of a different sort of rage that doesn't tap into my reserves for Drake, Jones, and Judas.  You're a coward and a traitor, a loser waiting to raise the hand of true winners.  You are a man living in shadow, waiting to see what hemisphere the sun rises on.  I hold nothing but contempt for your type.

Pizza Boy nods his head with a bit of gallows humor hanging over him.

PB: Granted, it's not 'push my loved ones into traffic for fun' contempt, but contempt nonetheless!  No, JJ.  I wont unleash the rage built by others upon you, nor will I let you pummel me in hopes of some sense of catharsis.  Instead, I'm going to treat this match as a vacation from my problems.  I'm going back to the old days of bow tied and  doe eyed innocence and face you man to man  for the sheer sake of showing that I am capable of beating you, that I have more fighting spirit than you, and that I am the better man than you, for I am a man whom shapes the tides of war, I am the man who writes history in blood, and when the books go to print, they'll show that I'm the reason EAW fought off every incoming threat while you?...you're just some footnote in the appendix with one mention, and that mention is losing to me.

Pizza Boy gingerly reaches into his jacket and pulls out his old bow tie.  He holds it up to the camera with a wink and a half smile.

PB: You want the old me back? You want Dean Martin tunes and bulldogs? You want the kid with the undefeated streak and a spring in his step Drake,Jones, and Judas?

Pizza Boy's smile turns to a grimace as he begins to clutch his bow tie with a quivering fist of rage.

PB: Tough.  You don't get to bring back innocence after killing it with a blowtorch, just like you don't get mercy just because you surround yourself with mercenaries.

Pizza Boy procures a zippo.  He strikes it up underneath the dangling paper tie and watches it go up like flash paper between his fingers.

PB: And sadly, for you JJ Silvia, you don't get to loiter with your dick in your hands during a war without catching a little bit of crossfire.  Emotions are a fountain, and those three have busted open the fire hydrant of my psyche, and there ain't no turning down the flow once you loosen the valve. I guess you'll see me at Dynasty.  I'll be the one looking over your head at the real threat.

Pizza Boy blows the ash out of his hand, rises from his seat, and shuffles out of sight as the camera fades to black.

Man oh man.  Battleground should be a lot of fun shouldn’t it?  I get to feel the same stress like the greats Allen Iverson and LeBron back in the day had to face when they had to put their teams on their backs.   This week on Battleground I am carrying a lot of weight and it won’t be easy but hey I’ve accomplished harder things right? So putting these two on my back and carrying them to a victory shouldn’t be so difficult right? I mean I don’t want to go off and talk about how I’m going to win this because next thing you know I decide it’s a good idea to tag Nick or Kratos in and they get pinned for the 1 2 3 making me look bad.  However I will say I’ll do what it takes to lead this average team (Nick and Kratos) to victory.
 
 
Speaking of victory, I already got a taste of that against one of the three on that team.  That man being Phoenix.   A lot has changed since then though hasn’t it?  Phoenix is now a favorite of these idiotic fans Phoenix is now someone the crowd looks up too.  Oh man how I pity the weak I mean really? A couple of good matches the past couple of weeks and now Phoenix is getting all this handed to him? I’ve had great matches since last year and I still had to fight for a spot into the CITV match yet Phoenix just has what 2-3 good matches? And boom there you go spot in one of Pain for Prides biggest matches.  Good job EAW way to make this match look important instead of everyone having to earn a spot in the match one of them is being handed one due to 2-3 good matches and the other being put in this match because he doesn’t like the current position he’s in.  I’m not going to stress it too much I am just going to give this man a little preview of what’s to come at Pain for Pride and what to expect when you step in the ring with me.   Though last time I flipped you on your head with a little move I like to call Protect Ya Neck.  However due to the brain damage you probably suffered that day you probably don’t remember what it’s like to step in the ring with me.  You probably forgot.  Don’t worry that’s something I’d want to forget to though.
 
Tig Kelly probably the only one in this match I have a little respect for.  A man who’s had to deal with a lot lately on Dynasty with those fake ass Good Fellas.   I’m glad unlike a partner of yours and mine you actually earned your spot into this match.   You know since I’m not a poser or a fraud I’m going to admit there’s not a lot I can really say about you right now.  I can’t tell you you’re not on my level (Though you’re most likely not) and I can’t tell you I don’t respect you.  I know a couple of you will take this as me being scared of Tig but it’s not like that not at all.  I just won’t say things just to say them if I don’t have anything bad to say about them I just won’t make shit up as I go along like others would.  I will say this though and it’s the same thing I told Phoenix just get ready for a preview of what’s to come at Pain for Pride.
 
Nas… Now you are the type of guy to say things just to say them.  Use a bunch of corny insults just to get these fans going.   You couldn’t find any real insult or threat so you just went ahead and said something corny.  Something so corny I can’t even remember I just know it was something about me not being Elite.  However if I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard that I’d be sitting with the likes of Jay-Z and Kanye West.  Hell I think I’d have enough money so you won’t be as corny and boring as you are now.  I would have enough money to make you original and not like DDD when he was running around calling himself the Gawd and saying the same things you are.   Just because he got over doing that and he’s a legend doesn’t give you the right to copy him and try to make a name for yourself doing something we’ve already seen done.   It’s cool though Nas it’s hard to think on your own nowadays and come up with something original.  It’s also obvious you couldn’t be yourself we have enough bland and boring idiots running around here in EAW and we don’t need the real you adding to that list.  I don’t know what you’ll say next nor do I care just know you won’t lay the smack down on my ass or anything like that and you won’t pin me on Battleground.  I’m going into Battleground with one objective at mind and that’s to let everyone know who they are stepping into that ring with.  I want all of you to pay very close attention to what I can do in that ring then just think harder about what I’ll do at Pain for Pride.   I don’t know if I can carry this shit team to victory because one of them might end up being pinned.  However I know I’ll put myself on the map of every person in the CITV match…

Starr Stan..that very name holds a lot of value throughout the entire wrestling world, a name that is snynonymous with ELITE. When people think of the word Elite, they don't automatically think of EAW. The first thing that comes to mind when you utter the word Elite, is Starr Stan. You have you spent your entire career honing your craft and being the greatest technical wrestler in a land where Extreme was prominent in this company. Despite all of that, it didn't stop you from being the legend that you today and I can see why people love you, I can see why people respect you and I see why people want to be you. Starr Stan you were arguably the greatest if not the greatest wrestler to have graced the squared circle and found your way into the hearts of Americans around the world. Hell, even the little kids who watches Elite Answers Wrestling still idolize you and they even go out and try to do THIS BECAUSE OF YOU!!! To hell with Mr. DEDEDE, Y2Impact, Jaywalker etc, you are the pinnacle of success, YOU are the STANDARD BEARER THAT PEOPLE MUST LIVE UP TO DAY IN AND DAY OUT! Every time you step inside that ring you raise the bar that much higher, in victory and in defeat and you set the example of what a wrestler should be. Starr Stan, I'm not here to sing your praises, I'm here to let you know that I'm going to be the guy that brings your career to ruin. If you thought for a moment that I have an ounce of respect for you Starr then you're a fool just like the men and women who aspire to be like you. Starr Stan you are a cancer, not only to the fans within the EAW Universe, but you're a cancer to the red, white and blue. Day in and day out you continuously embarrass yourself letting people feel sorry for you, you make people look down and witness the decaying career that you work so hard to build for yourself. Just like the United States of America, you're nothing more than a mere weak fool and for years that you've been on top of this company, you have turned into a complete failure. To be honest with you Starr, the only reason why I'm here is because of your name. I have used my influence and my power to meet with Ashten Cross and HDRO to give me the opportunity of facing you at the main event of Voltage and in return I promise them I will boost their ratings and Starr Stan vs Angelo will be the greatest match in Voltage history! Starr ever since your retirement tour has commenced a lot of people were chomping at the bit, hoping and praying before you set off into the sunset with your tail between your legs and walk away from this company and it's become the talk of the town. Everyone wants to know "Who will Starr face next?" I gave them an answer when it went public when I would be the man that will  go against  the apparent technical mastermind in this business but during our match Starr, you're going to realize that the person you should have been looking out for, the guy that you should have been passing the torch to is me. Not some homeless looking dirt bag in Carson Ramsay because if you want to take a second and look through the eyes of the people that actually matters, people will see that I am the future of this company. And I'm not going to go out and spout that every single time I have a microphone in my hand or the spotlight down on me. I'm also not going to sit idly by and wait for someone to pass along the torch to me like a game of hot potato. What I'm going to do is walk into the main event of Voltage and crush the man that so many kids dream of becoming and show that Starr Stan represents an era that's coming to an end and not only will I crush the dreams of children who wants to be like him but I will subsequently spit in the face of every person who calls themselves an American. When I'm through with Starr, he won't be the same man that everyone has idolized for all these years because people will look at him different. After I'm done, he will be nothing more than a shell of his former self or maybe far worse than that. Starr Stan, your career has been built for someone like me to come along and make a name off you and I won't lie. In the wrestling world your name is valuable and it would mean a whole lot more when I come and conquer you and when I do that, my stock will go up. People around the world will look at me differently because it will prove that not only I belong here, but it will prove that every claim I have made was accurate. I will further prove that I'm the greatest man that God has ever created, I am the Perfect Cell because everything that I have done I have succeeded in and wrestling will be no different. I will claim this company as my own! And at the end of the night when I cut down Starr Stan and humiliate him in front of the world and burn the American Flag that symbolizes The Olympic Hero falling before the presence of The Black Prince, The Perfect Cell, And A true God! I will be standing in the middle of the ring of Voltage as his conqueror and that last image when our match concludes will be foreshadow the future. That same image will be me on Dynasty beating a broken down Tig Kelly and again at Pain For Pride I will be the last man standing as I have the Cash In The Vault briefcase in my possession and I will crush any and all of my "competition's" hopes of being a world champion! But before I reach to that point, I will have to beat Starr Stan and Starr I wish I could say that I didn't have to choice to do this and let you enjoy your ego trip with this retirement tour that you're going on. BUT, I hate to break it to you but I chose to do this because I need to beat you to prove a few points but mainly I have to beat you because I'm tired of has beens and never was stealing my spotlight! So what I want you to do to before our match starts is to say a prayer, recite the national anthem or do whatever you have to do because after I beat you, a lot of people are going to hate me for it like when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, or when the Vietnamese CRUSHED the American army and made them look weak in the process and showed them that the Americans aren't as invincible as they tried to make the world believe that they are! It's been a long time coming but the future is on your doorstep and it won't be handing your torch to Carson Ramsay, because before he gets a chance to reach for it, I will swoop IN AND BREAK YOUR DAMN ARM AND EVERY LIMB ON YOUR BODY AND TAKE THAT DAMN TORCH AND RUN WITH IT! I WILL RUN WITH IT FARTHER THAN YOU EVER COULD SOLIDIFY MYSELF AS THE HERO THAT THIS COMPANY HAS BEEN YEARNING FOR!!!! I'm going to beat you Starr and if there are any doubters that believes that I can't, then all I have to say is stay tuned because you're going to witness a massacre on Voltage.

But let me back track for a second because after I'm done with Starr Stan on Voltage I will come back to my kingdom in Dynasty where I will go one on one with one of the "favorites" to win Cash In The Vault, Tadgh, Tig or whatever you want people to call you. It doesn't really matter to me because you're nothing but a bum to me who came from nothing and like a lot of things it bothers me that men like you are alive right now. Tiggy poo, you have lived the life of Cinderella and it's been cute honestly because my team did some digging since I don't give a shit about you and where you came from but it just makes me laugh a bit to see that you came from a middle class family. Like your mother is a stupid Catholic and your father is what? A pub owner of some kind of pub owner!? Talk about embarrassing roots, but it doesn't surprise me by the looks of you I could have pegged you to be the son of some welder or plumber who in his own life was nothing more than a mere failure who is probably living inside of you and wishing and hoping you would succeed in life where he has failed! But that isn't even what I find comical, what I find funny is that people actually think you or Winterborn have a legit chance of winning Cash In The Vault and it isn't because you two have been in World Championship matches before me, it isn't because you're "REALLY GOOD WRESTLERS": WITH A LOT OF HEART~ No, it's because people like you who were born to struggle, born to serve men like, it's easy for you to connect with people like them. In all honesty when people see you and when they see me, they automatically start gravitating towards you because you represent a loser, a failure and a REJECT! Something that a lot of people can identify themselves with because in one point or another everyone has struggled to get where they are and where those people are now they are still miserable. When they watch you Tig, they want to know what it feels like to be in your shoes because in those blissful moments where you or Winterborn have the spotlight on you, they feel like they are winning at life. I mean look at you, for the past few months when I was away you have scratched and clawed your way to the top and made yourself into a household name! Despite you not being able to win the World Championship, you have became an odds on favorite to win almost every match you're apart in. But that's not true because those people are blinded and infected with a virus known as being a loser that came from  nothing! To be real with you, they will never be anything in life ! No matter how hard you or anyone like you tries, no matter how much you try to emulate prize fighters and come off important. hearing empty praises from people who aren't WORTH SHIT DOESN'T MEAN A DAMN THING! Tig if you think you're half the man or a quarter of a man that you think you are I'm giving you the opportunity to step in my realm, step inside the ring with the TRUE MAIN EVENTER OF DYNASTY! THE ONLY GREATEST OF ALL TIME FROM WRESTLING, TV PERSONALITY ETC! And if you're lucky to even beat me then you could possibly be considered a favorite to win Cash In The Vault but until that day comes which will be never. Then all claims you have to winning that match or any match involving me is pointless and you might as well pack your bags and go back to whatever shack your mother gave birth to you in and stay there and let a true man like myself stand center stage in the spotlight that belongs on ME! After this you and Starr will learn a valuable lesson that every man before you has learned and I promise you it will humble you and eventually save your life along with those who ever thinks about being anything like either of you! That advice is to NEVER MESS WITH A MAN WHOSE SHOES IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE!!!