Hey, sweetheart, I think you can get off of your soapbox now.
 
Did you get the chance to get everything off of your chest? God, I bet you had that little speech planned out ever since you were facing me for my title. You constructed that speech in hopes of saying it the day after our matchup. Looking valiant and brave with the Vixens title strapped on your shoulder as thousands gaze over the new champion. Life works in funny ways, doesn’t it? Things didn’t go your way and I prevailed, as I dragged your lifeless body around that ring and pinned you. After your failed efforts, you couldn’t bear to see that speech that was simply taunting you, so you tucked it away. You shoved it in the deepest corner of your room and went on. And look at you now. It hasn’t even been 48 hours and you’re already acting as if you’re the voice of the people. As if you’re the savior of this Vixens division. As if you actually know what you’re getting yourself into. Don’t you dare come up to me and tell ME how to run things around here. You are merely the shadow of the Vixens champion. You’re the bitch that preforms in house shows while the real champion, the champion that actually fucking matters goes on talk shows, charities events – you name it. I am the face of this division, I am the woman who represents all of you. Ever since I’ve been champion this division has sky rocketed. The talent that is in our roster is absolutely fantastic with a side of viciousness that comes as a trait for every vixen. I’ve gone against the toughest competitors, you included, and I’ve had a run for my money multiple, multiple times. But even though that happened… I’M STILL THE CHAMPION! I’m still the reigning Vixens champion, baby! This is my six-month reign and I see more coming. I’ve been in this company for nearly a year already and out of that year, I’ve been champion for half of it. That goes to show that I am completely unstoppable. I am a force to be reckon with. I am at the top of the food chain.
 
 And you? Well, you can continue having fun with your little lesbian threesome. But I can tell you right now, from a completely nonbiased stand point, that the Formation is nothing but a unifying fluke of a front. You are not the best in the world, the fact that you gave yourself that moniker is gut-busting LAUGHABLE. Your group is going to crumble before our eyes. This group is filled with a bunch of egos that have yet reached their final form. There is no such thing as unity or sisterly bonds in this division. We’re all hungry lions ready to prey on the next gazelle that walks by. You stole your girlfriend’s championship; you think she’s going to let that go? You think she’s going to look at you with love in her eyes and say “Congratulations, you are the better woman.” She’s secretly planning your death as we speak. I’ve known Cailin Dillion longer than you have and I can say with the upmost sincerity that she is one jealous bitch. If you were her real companion and lover, then you would’ve never dared to enter that Specialist Rampage. You should’ve been there for moral support, to help her out if things went haywire. But what did you do? You thought of yourself. You were selfish, you were being vain and greedy. What a terrible person to share your nights with. You should really be ashamed of yourself, Cloud. You just ruined Cailin’s five-month streak of being champion. Do you have no conscious? Do you have no principles? Regardless, I just want you to know that if it wasn’t for me interfering in that match, you wouldn’t be out here trying to act as if you’re the leader of this division. So I’ll be waiting for my thank you. It’ll be greatly appreciated.
 
So what’s next? What’s next for the Vixens champion who has defended her title successfully for multiple times? The woman who has changed this division for the good and the woman who is single handedly one of the greatest Vixens of all time?! My moment has finally arrived. All the blood, sweat and tears are going to be worthwhile. Words cannot express my gratitude. Words cannot express how happy and giddy I am despite the troublesome state I’ve been in the past couple of days. Aria Jaxon, you and I will square off for the first time one on one. I’ll be honest, I don’t know you and I don’t know what you offer to the table. The days that we’ve been destined to face one another have been put off. In the Empress of Elite, you dominated your specific group as I dominated mine. In other occasions we never crossed paths. We both debuted not that far apart and our careers made their own tracks, their own pathways. I went on to be the 21^st Vixens champion with a continuous six-month reign. I’ve been in legendary matches and have faced tough competitors but I’ve always prevailed. I’ve been managed by the greatest Vixen of all time Heart Break Gal, and I’ve learned so much valuable knowledge through her. I was in Hexa-Gun, arguably one of the greatest stables that have ever set foot in EAW territory. And now, I am fortunate enough to add to my resume that I am going to main event Triple Threat. God, I am so proud of everything that I have done. I am so proud of all of the accomplishments that I have under my belt. I am honored to set foot in the same ring, but don’t misinterpret my humble nature for pity. I will walk in that ring and I will demolish everything in sight. This is my moment, Aria. This is my time. This is what I’ve been wanting all along. THIS IS WHAT I NEED TO SURVIVE. If I were to lose my championship there, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I wouldn’t be able to move on forward without having a complete mental breakdown. My organ systems will fail and my body will begin to deteriorate if you or anyone else for that matter, takes away my championship. This is more than a piece of plastic with my name engraved on it. This is my baby, this is my child, THIS IS MY LIFE. If you don’t have this same passion, then I suggest you give up your one contenders spot. I refuse to put my title on the line against people who just want another insignificant title win packed in their resume.
 

I am ready to transcend this sadness into something more significant. But I have to say one more thing... HBG, we haven’t spoken since that night. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want to talk to me or if you don’t want anything to do with me, I will always be by your side. I will be there for whenever you need me. If you need some time to yourself, that’s fine! I completely understand that sometimes breaks are beneficial for relationships. But just remember that I’m here for you. You haven’t returned my calls or text messages, or emails, or physical letters, or tweets, or facebook messages, or Instagram direct messages but I understand. Just please, let’s just try to work things out before our match. Let’s show these rookies who’s really in charge of this division. Who really is the lead Vixen in charge. I love you, HBG. Please never forget that. ♥

 
 
 

I could still feel my foot connecting with her face. It took everything in me to fight through the pain and slide back into the ring. There was no way I was going to let her win. After laying me out in the Specialist Scramble...screwing me out the Vixens Championship, Vixens Cup, and in Tokyo...I found vindication. The moment she hit the floor and our eyes met we knew. In that second we knew. I won and she lost. I was the new Specialist Champion. Breaking eye contact, I fell to my knees as the ref announced the winner of the match. The moment I heard ‘New Specialist Champion’ followed by ‘Stephanie Matsuda’, everything else was in one ear and out the other. As the ref raised my hand and the title was placed around my waist, I basked in the adoration of the 70k something crowd. The largest audience I’ve ever performed in front of and I was walking away as a champion. I sure as hell played like one.

The moment I stepped foot back stage Aria jumped on me like I was the Bobby to her Whitney, legs wrapped around and all.

“Oh my god girl you did it!” she muffled, her face buried in my shoulder.

I glanced at Aren who shrugged and smiled.

“Congratulations Matsuda” he said.

“T-thanks” I replied, straining to find words as I made my way down the hall with an Aria attached to me.

The girl was squealing in my shoulder like a squeaky wheel. I walked towards the vixens locker room as I was congratulated by various elitists and vixens on the roster. Everything felt unreal, how something I’ve been fighting for, the first EAW title I’ve competed for was now finally in my grasp. It made all the hard work, blood, sweat, and tears worth it. My eyes searched for Cailin, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. I couldn’t even imagine how torn she must have felt. She was no longer the Specialist Champion, but her girlfriend now held the title. I placed Aria down in front of the locker room. I stared at her for a moment as she wiped her tears. One of the things I love about Aria Marie Jackson-LeBeau is that she always know what I’m thinking even when I don’t say anything. All it took was for a second of eye contact to know what she had to do next.

“Alright everyone!” she yelled to the incoming crowd of press. “I just need everyone to get the stepping! That’s right...GET DA STEPPING! OR CATCH THESE HANDS!”

Nobody dared challenged ‘Ria’s flailing hands. Feeling relieved for having such an awesome friend, I walked inside the locker room. Luckily I was alone. I noticed a few dents in some of the lockers and a knocked over bench. After wondering what the hell happened, I slide against the wall, the weight and pain of six months wearing itself down on me. I placed the cold metal of the Specialist Championship against my head, relieved that it was all over. What I worked so hard to achieve was finally in my possession. I barely noticed the tears going down my face.

“Thank you,” I managed to choke out between sobs.

I never fancied myself a religious person, but in that moment I was willing to believe in anything as I looked up, no longer fighting the tears.

“Thank you…”

----

“What doesn’t come out in the wash, comes out in the rinse.” - Louisa Belle-Matsuda

I told everyone what I planned to do. I told everyone that it would take time, but eventually my grind would pay off. Lo and behold, Stephanie “Cloud” Mia Matsuda is your new Specialist Champion. While the Specialist Rampage could have been anybody’s win, I did what I had to in order to secure a victory in my name. Baelin and I showed Alexis some Unity! And HBG was on the receiving end of a two second Sexy Curry reunion. Not even Claudia Jr. could save you from that fate. Haruna and I may hate each other but as far as we’re both concerned we would rather lose to each other than the likes of you Michaels-san. You are everything a bully is. You force your ego down people’s throats until they can’t stand it anymore and fall to pieces. I’m too focus, too confident, too grown to let you shatter me Heart Break Gal. The Specialist Rampage was karma in its purest form. All eleven participants thought I wasn’t dangerous. You all doubted my ability, my cunning. Let this be a lesson to you Claudia.

Never underestimate me again.

Eris-chan, it’s been awhile. Last time we faced each other, it was for that strap that’s on your shoulder. I had you dead to rights but my mortal enemy had other plans. Here we are three months later, with a title of my own, and you living on borrowed time. Aria Jaxon will be the next Vixens Champion and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it. When Formation was created, we had plans to run the Vixens division. Not out of greed, but rather concern for the state of the roster. He wanted to force the competition to step up their game, to make the company recognize the effort the Vixens have put into making things different than they were a year ago. Little girls around the world no longer have to choose between HBG, Cam, and Tarah. They now have more choices like you, Aria, Cai, Sher, and myself. The real shame about your run Eris is that it only started to pick up towards the end. The first few months you barely defended your title, just paraded around like you was the most dangerous woman on the roster. Sorry to disappoint you but the number one contender and the current and former Specialist champions are the most dangerous women in the world. Let me reiterate... 

Formation is the best in the world.

My retirement of Cleo...Aria’s EoE win...Cai’s epic five month title run...all the facts are there. We came, we saw, and we sure as hell conquered. And you know what the scary thing is? We’re not finished. So I suggest you prepare yourselves ladies. Drink your milk, take your vitamins, and say your prayers because we’re coming for that ass on Saturday. When we roll through either get out of our way or…

Get in Formation.

The camera opens on Marie, bouncing on her feet as if electricity was running through her. She's beaming. 

"This Friday, every single one of you will finally see what's coming. For the last week, I've been hinting and inching forward, letting you see where I come from, what I believe, what I was doing to prepare. Now, you get to see what's on the line for me. To Veena and Silence, this is just another Friday night, but to me? This is the night. I need to prove to everyone watching that I deserve to be here, and someone who loses on her first night in EAW sure as shit has not earned her place at the table. I won't be alone, either. I'm going to be fighting side by side with the baddest bitch on the roster. Alexia Valentine. I appreciate the support, but the truth is, I would fight both of them by myself if I had to."

She leans in a bit closer to the camera.

"They don't know my name yet. They don't know what I'm capable of, what I'm willing to do to prove myself. After this Friday, they'll know. They'll never be able to forget. I am the scariest thing anyone here has ever seen - I am La Corriveau, and on Friday night, I will be unstoppable. Bonne nuit, ladies. I will see you soon enough."

The seven days that I just spent globetrotting the world, defending the CWF World Heavyweight Championship, the Championship of the utmost significance on Showdown and surpassing even the Prestige of the EAW Championship, have been grueling. I sit here, communicating with you, the loyal fans of Elite Answers Wrestling, a proud but humble champion. Lucas Johnson and Lioncross both gave me their best shots in London and South Bend. It was not enough. Just like it hasn’t been enough for Chris Elite, The former Cloud Matsuda and Piff Fumador.

That is not enough for me to keep me satisfied. I want to defend this title against bigger, better, STRONGER competition to prove once and for all the legitimacy of this belt. I’m tired of hearing it questioned, even though I defend it more often than any other champion defends their championship with the notable exception of the Former Specialists Champion, Cailin Dillon. I want to prove that by restoring the prestige of the CWF World Heavyweight Championship that I am more than prepared to do the exact same thing with the EAW Championship, which has been sullied and decayed.

Speaking of the Championship in question, I have comments regarding what our great General Manager James Shields should do. It has been my position and continues to be so seeing as how I have yet to face a single defeat on Showdown since my arrival, combined with FIVE successful title defenses, combined also with making it to the last six of the Grand Rampage AFTER a title defense that left me bloodied and bruised, my case to be the top contender for the “other” world Championship on Showdown is fairly obvious.

I understand that Mexican Samurai was more or less jobbed out of his chance to become EAW Champion. I legitimately sympathize with my occasional training partner in this instance seeing I have been the victim of some jerking around by management myself. Unfortunately, my theory has always been “Take Your Shot. If you miss, back to the line.” Mexi MISSED HIS SHOT! It is unfair to hold up MY rightful challenge to the title by simply giving him a rematch when he couldn’t finish off Vendetta after already being given two opportunities. Also, I do have to note that he is already being pressed into a mandatory defense of his coveted Interwire Championship.

He should be held to his obligations as Interwire Champion and allow other people to pursue the EAW Championship. Shields can do whatever he wants, even if he wishes to try and forestall the inevitable reign of Carlos Rosso as EAW AND CWF Champion. I’m just making my position on the matter quite clear so there isn’t any confusion.

While I lasted a long time in the Grand Rampage, I didn’t win it. Congratulations are in order for Y2Impact, a guy who I don’t like but have gained a new measure of respect for. He came in #3 and outlasted everyone to win the largest Grand Rampage in history. He is definitely worthy of a Championship match of his choosing. Also, I would like to acknowledge the man who eliminated me, Aren Mstislav. I was unlucky and would look forward to facing you at a later time. Lioncross, you earned respect from me as well. We went to war. I won, but it was not without paying a heavy cost with my body. Your handiwork didn’t make it any easier to try to conquer the grand rampage, and your persistent presence made me expand a lot of energy just to survive.
 
This is the part of the program where I throw respect out of the window. Because there is one individual who I think needs to get his head out of his own ass.

Tyler Parker.

I heard him say something about two-faced individuals in this company. And then I got my hands on some other post talking about F-this guy and F-That guy and what he’s going to do. And all this other whining and ranting like a little girl. CRYING like a little bitch.

Tyler, you more than just about anyone here knows I’m not two-faced. I respect anybody who comes through those ropes and fights and claws for what’s theirs, especially somebody like you who has been to the top of the EAW summit as I’m aspiring to. But there is one thing that you know that everybody knows by now: if Carlos Rosso doesn’t like you, he’s not going to sit around and play games about it. He’s going to either A) Tell you TO YOUR FACE THAT HE HATES YOUR FILTHY STINKING GUTS or B) PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE AT THE FIRST OPPORTUNITY!

FUCK YOU!

FUCK EVERYTHING THAT YOU STAND FOR!

I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR INJURIES! HELL, I THOUGHT ARES HAD RUN YOU OUT OF THE COMPANY FOR GOOD! ONE THING IM NOT GOING TO STAND FOR IS YOU TELLING ME ABOUT WHAT YOU SAY YOURE GOING TO DO TO ME! YOU AND I HAVE BEEN THERE AND DONE THAT! YOU KNOW WHAT I CAN DO IN THAT RING AND I DAMN SURE KNOW WHAT YOU CAN DO! PAIN FOR PRIDE, DYNASTY, HELL WE CAN GO BACK TO THE OLD TURBO DAYS, Can’t WE!? BUT ONE THING I WANT YOU TO KNOW AND WANT TO MAKE VERY PLAIN, IF YOU EVER, EVER SHOW YOUR FACE ON SHOWDOWN TALKING ABOUT THESE ARE YOUR WOODS….

Heh….

You’ll find your woods CHOPPED DOWN and a big old log cabin will be built with them: Carlos Rosso’s HOUSE. That’s what Showdown is now.

That’s a warning to anybody who walks around like their shit doesn’t stink and tries to come on Showdown like they run the show. The buck stops with the CWF World Heavyweight Champion and until the day I decide to hang up my boots Showdown belongs to me.

I may have the week off; I may not be there in the building but you best believe that I’m watching everything that happens on MY show like a hawk.

Carlos Rosso is Ichiban. If you don’t believe me, please come and prove me wrong.

I will see you worthless fools next week.

 
So I guess we’re set to do this yet again. Old friends, yes… that we are. Lifelong enemies? Hardly. Two people destined to meet over and over again and fight like rivals, apparently that’s where the hammer hits the nail on the head. Our past is colored, checkered, filled in like a never-ending survey and it’s sure to continue over and over. I’m sure what I can expect to see from you this week. All the usuals when we meet. You’re gonna bring up Steph and how she’s the Specialist Champion now. You’re going to mention how I made an early exit in the match at Grand Rampage. Let’s get it all out of the way now. Because we could write chapter after chapter about your own personal failures. But that’s just the typical lazy way of doing things. This is an atypical match though, isn’t it? This is your chance to get a shot at your nemesis and prove your loss to her at Grand Rampage was just a fluke. In the same token this is my chance to take back what is mine. I will promise you this now, Haruna, I will do whatever it takes to beat you. Whether you plan on having your boyfriend come down and cause some random fuckery to help you win or you have Jade smuggling pills into the ring for you in her ass, it’s going to take more than dust and brass knuckles to keep me from getting back to where I want to be. We’ve met one-on-one four times before. This is a rubber match for us. So leave the toys at home, sack up and come to face me like the woman you supposedly claim to be.
 
You see, the last time we met was when you were trying to reclaim your Specialist title. But I beat you for the second straight time. And that, mixed with the Sexy Curry drama, helped you decide to step away from this place for a short period. You came back pretending to be someone different all together. You wanted to make people take you seriously. So you started taking the low road as much as you can. I don’t know where you learned all of this. But that’s not the Haruna that I knew. That’s not who you really are. And you’ve tried to become someone you aren’t. Where has it gotten you? You’re no further than you were before. You took a step back and counted your coin and tried to cross yours T’s and dot your I’s. What you came back with is the strategy that was supposed to change everything. What have you really changed? Do you think being a bitch and cheating is what makes you stronger than your opponents. How many matches have you won by doing that? I bet you felt really good after you beat the Cloud right out of Steph. But you didn’t beat her on your own, did you? At the Vixen’s Cup you needed to have Jade run a distraction. What a shame. You two had such a buildup in a sort of feud between you two, even if it didn’t make as much sense to everyone else as it did to the two of you. But there was Jade, dropping off a pill on the side of the ring so that you could win this match. This is what doing whatever it takes means to you. Some of us are taking big risks and going for amazing moves. You’re just standing around sneezing dust into someone’s face. But you didn’t stop there. It had to be about beating the name right out of her. So you put brass knuckles in your gloves and ran a match in front of what must be the most incompetent referee that has ever graced an EAW ring. The commentators knew it. The people in the last section of the arena with the worst seats in the house could see it. But what did you prove? Not a thing. Because when it came down to the two of you at Grand Rampage, you got outfoxed. Steph beat you when you couldn’t cheat. You still have something to prove, especially to her. But you won’t dare get that chance by getting through me.
 
I’ll be honest with you. I’m pissed off. I let myself down at Grand Rampage to proportions that only you had reached before.  Just ask the cleanup crew that had to bolt the ‘Play Like a Champion Today,’ sign back on the wall. I have two things coming into this match that you’re about to see from me. There’s an equal level of rage and concentration. Let’s call it concentrated rage. It’s the kind you don’t want to deal with. Because it’s the kind that you keep waiting to make your opponent screw up. Instead I just keep coming at you, kick after kick, brutal punches and big slams that you keep digging deep from within to get up from. It’s the kind that sees you hit me as hard as you possibly can, going strong style to the extreme, only to see me turn my head right back and hit you with a full head of steam. To be brutally honest with you, I’m sorry that they put you in this match with me. You know there is no hatred between us, no matter what the history between you and Steph is. But to me it doesn’t matter who is holding that title. I’m doing everything I can to get back to fighting for that belt. This isn’t fun and games for me. This isn’t about getting a title match with Steph so we can just laugh and giggle and she can drive us home and let me hold her belt. That bullshit isn’t going to happen. And unfortunately, they put you as the obstacle for me to get to there. I’m on a warpath, and you’re standing in the way. I’m taking you out and I’m getting my chance.
 
It’s funny the way things work in this business, isn’t it? You should know, you’ve been there before. You had that belt for a few minutes and as soon as you lost it people started to forget about you. You felt it wasn’t fair, I know that. There are a lot of things about that period that left you pretty jaded. I know what it’s like. I was a champion for five months and already there are people sleeping on me. But I’m not about to wait another five months to make my next move. You’ve been stuck in a rut as you tried to get back to champion status, but I won’t be replicating that. My times isn’t over. This is only the beginning of what’s to come for me. Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re patient or you’re just fine with walking along this narrow path and never veering off. But I’m not out for some slow stroll for the park. I’ve been filled with an insatiable hunger that can only be filled with one thing. That’s meeting you in that ring and beating you for the third straight time. I guess it was always destined to happen again. We were going to end up meeting one-on-one with another prize dangled above our heads. You beat me the first two times we met. But since then, when the prize was as big as could be, I have consistently had the edge. This time I don’t need to point out your sins and I don’t need to help you finish more chapters of the book of Haruna, the one that highlights every lowlight along the way. We don’t even need to dwell on that nonsense. Because I’m confident that I will meet you head to head and take you down without needing to go down those paths.
 
Losing the title at Grand Rampage didn’t prove anything. I can still beat anyone in this business one-on-one and I’ve proven that time after time. I beat you for this title twice, I took down Eris LeCava in a champion vs. champion match, and no one else has been able to take her down since she won that Vixen’s title. And I slayed the mighty Heart Break Gal when she staked her own claim on the Specialist Championship. No one pinned me this past weekend. I was cheated out of my chance to retain my title at Grand Rampage, but I won’t be cheated out of the chance to reclaim what I built almost from scratch. Nothing can change the fact that me five-month reign as champion was legendary. But why stop here? Why stop with just one reign as the Specialist Champion. This is only the beginning of what I’m about to do in this division Haruna. I’m just sorry that you got lucky draw number one. I’m out to slay another pretender, Haruna, and then I’ll go and take back what’s rightfully mine.

EAW needs you.

EAW NEEDS YOU!

EAW... NEEDS... ME!

They finally admit it! After six years… SIX FUCKING YEARS those are not my words, they are the words of Smackdown GM, James Shields who, other than Matt Daniels is the SMARTEST man in the history of this company. The only one who was bold enough to swallow his pride and tell the TRUTH. I could gloat about this all day, but maybe I’ll take the time to do that tomorrow, today it seems as if I have some explaining to do.

Actually, I’m not sure if  explaining is the right word to use there. Maybe teach? Would that be better? Because I’m not here to just explain why I left EAW last year, I’m here to teach you all a little about life, because apparently to a lot of you, this is life, and oh how wrong that is.

Imagine for a second, if you will… you’re stuck working for a company that you hate, where your bosses treat you like garbage, your co-workers hate you, where you’re miserable every single day and as a result, feel unmotivated to work. Now imagine, you can leave this place… simply because YOU CAN, what are you gonna do?

The answer seems clear if not blatantly obvious, and certainly very justifiable, but when I did just that last April, it was met with resentment and backlash. It was seen as me turning my back on EAW. And I found that hilariously hypocritical, but I guess it’s one of those situations where if you weren’t in my shoes, you weren’t gonna get it. So I’ve chosen to look past the backlash and resentment in this particular case but truthfully, you should never need a reason for leaving… your JOB. Here is where THE problem lies, there are way too many people that don’t understand that this is just a job. You go out every week and work, and you get a paycheck for it… THAT IS A JOB. It’s a job that some of you may love doing, but at the end of the day, you are contracted to “Elite” Answers Wrestling as an employee, and just as they have the right to fire you, you have the right to quit. There is more to life than wrestling, I understand the affection for it, we all have it, if we didn’t we wouldn’t be here but you cross a line when you go from being a wrestling fan, to a professional wrestler. You can’t be a fan anymore, you have to give up the love affair or you’ll never find the success that you crave. It’s actually pretty tragic, to have success in the business that you love, you have to learn to hate it. It could all be a bit overwhelming, one day you’re watching Showdown, the next day you’re on Showdown. One day you’re watching Mr. DEDEDE, the next you’re wrestling him. I’m not saying you have to flip the switch automatically, it’s a gradual process, and don’t think you can’t find success during this process, here let me explain myself further because this is where it all gets a bit gray. We all know of that infamous brass ring or the elusive glass ceiling, which is more or less just “fancy talk” for being the man, or the woman… since you know now… in 2016 EAW finally decided it wanted to treat women as equals. It’s everyone’s dream, it’s everyone’s aspiration, no one wants to settle for just being “good”, yet the majority of people who walk in and out of EAW’s doors are just that… good, not great. People spend their entire careers trying to grab the ring, or to break the ceiling, and they get so close, they get their fingertips on the ring, they press their face up against the ceiling… but you can’t pull it down, you can’t break through it… and that’s when it has to happen. That’s when you need to let go, so you can transcend from good to great, so you can pull down the ring and shatter the glass. It’s so, so simple, it’s such a basic formula.

To be great, you need to hate.

I just gave away the biggest secret this industry has to offer, you’re welcome, and I wish you all the greatest of success.

So now let’s see, that’s a life lesson, the greatest advice you’ll ever get in this business… I guess the only thing left to address is Showdown this Saturday. I have three opponents, and oddly enough, I’m flattered by that, because no one else in EAW gets three opponents, because no one else can handle three opponents. As far as the opponents themselves?... I don’t know your names, and I’m not going to bother to learn them. I take it this is a relatively new experience for each of you, so I’m not gonna spoil much, I’ll let Saturday be a surprise.

The camera opens up in the locker room after Grand Rampage where a still in-gear Pizza Boy sits in the shower with the EAW National Championship slung over his shoulder.  The water from the shower spigot bounces off of the face of the gold, and runs down PB's shades and read pleather jacket as he sits stoically, seemingly unresponsive to the water raining down on him.

PB: I went into Grand Rampage denouncing not only a gift of the Gods, but also a God himself.  But did anyone notice? No.  Do you know why, Nico? Because He left me long before I left him.  It's kinda like standing out in the middle of a field and shouting at the sky while trying to throw a toy rocket into orbit: Nobody's listening, and no matter how hard you try it's all going to come falling back down to earth.  This National championship came back to me when I tried to throw it back into God's face, and I defended it against yet another one of his disciples, one disguised to look like me, act like me, and hell even smell and taste like me, but unlike me he didn't have the vision to see the world as it is.  There is no good, no bad, no penitence to be paid or offered.  We're all alone, and despite what we try and do to desecrate or uphold that which is holy, nobody is paying attention either way.  It's like that movie 'The God's Must Be Crazy'.  If you worship a piece of trash that appears from the ether, that piece of trash is going to only reveal itself to be what it truly is; a piece of trash.

PB pulls off his shades, slinging his matted hair out of his face in the process.  He stares into the camera earnestly as water dots his face.

PB: No matter what I try, no matter what I say, defending this National Championship isn't going to do anything to win me His favor.  Dressing up like him, doing his moves, upholding our legacy? It doesn't do anything.  After all, this gold isn't His gold, and this sport isn't His sport.  No, not anymore.  This sport is MY sport, and this gold holds up MY pants! 

Suddenly, a toweled Tony Rolland wanders into the shower humming to himself, stepping over PB, giving him an unwanted eyeful of what lies beneath the towel around Tony's waist.  Rolland starts scrubbing away, ignoring the disgusted looks of his protege on the ground.

PB: Anyway, this is MY time!

TR: Oh hey! Thanks for giving me your spot in the Grand Rampage, kid.

PB: Tony, I'm kind of in the middle of something.

Tony casually glances over his shoulder to his student.  PB nods toward the camera. Tony turns slowly to find the camera.  His eyes grow wide as his towel falls to the ground, revealing, horrifyingly enough, a pair of tighty whitey's designed like Rolland's mask.

TR: AHHHH!

Tony hops in the air, running in one place like a cartoon character, before darting out of the locker room 'nude'.  PB stands up, watching his mentor run off, presumably making a cartoonish man shaped hole in the wall.

PB: You know something? That nut is onto something.

PB shrugs his National title off of his shoulder, letting it slide down his slick pleather jacket sleeve.

PB: I don't need this title.  I don't need these shades, or this jacket.

[/b]PB pulls the jacket off, whipping it into the floor emphatically.  He looks down at his matching pants.[/b]

PB: or these!

PB shimmies out of his faux leather pants,hopping to dislodge his feet from them as they reach his ankles.  He walks up to the camera, unintentionally censoring himself from the waist down in the process.

PB: Nico Borg, you don't need some insane, sado-masochistic vision of religion either.  What kind of god would allow men like us to exist? Much less reach out to us to deliver their insidious message of pain? What kind of god would put this idea in our head that we're meant to punish men to gain divine privilege? You're as lost as me, aren't you? You're as sick as I pretend to be.  You really hear something that tells you that what you do is not only OK, but your only key to salvation.  And I've got to believe that it's just that, some psychosis, some barking neighborhood dog on the other side of your apartment wall telling you to tie your opponents in knots, torture them, kill their careers.

PB looks down at his National title, laying amidst his discarded ring attire.  He then looks up at the camera with a glint of clarity in his eyes.

PB: You plan to make me your sacrifice, your penance, your lamb to the alter.

PB smiles, letting out a horrified guffaw.

PB: My god, you don't know do you? I mean, I know you're new, but you really don't understand what you've gotten yourself into.  Well rest assured, my militant friend, you've picked the most gluttonous punishment taker in the EAW to be your first burnt offering.  I've even made the alter for you, because my blood is on every fiber of the ring ropes, my DNA is in every stitch of canvas, and my mortal heart and soul has been in that EAW ring since my very first match.  Even the mats and announce table have absorbed my blood, sweat, spit, and tears.  If you've come to this company looking to sacrifice it's fighting spirit, it's conscience, it's ever loving mascot, then you've ran across him, and he's feeling pretty jilted right now.  So go 'head.

PB raises his face up to the spout and spreads his arms out to his side.

PB: Send me to God, holy man! Go ahead and try it! He doesn't want me, he doesn't want to meet the me he's created, the cast out Cain, the fallen brother with the bloodstains on his hands.  He's damned me to walk the earth, the original sinner with no passport to heaven or hell.  And no matter how hard I scrub, no matter how long I sit in this shower, hot or cold, this water isn't going to cleans me, and neither will any ocean of pain you have to offer me, for I have been thrown from Chambers, I've been powerbombed through barricades, and I've fallen from the stairway to heaven.  The sky wont open up to take me and the ground refuses to swallow me.  And do you know why? It's not because Heartbreak Boy was a god, it's not because the National Title is my destiny,it's because EAW will not die,and as the embodiment of everything this company stands for, every rough edge, every uphill battle, every single jaw dropping, heart stopping, gut wrenching and fan pleasing moment.

Pizza Boy bends down, only to come back up moments later and fidget with his waist off camera in a fairly provocative way.

PB: I'm going to knock so much sense into you, and it wont be in the name of a god, or a man, or a title.  It'll be in the name of Andrew Sanders, the motherlickin' Pizza Boy! The champion of whatever Nation he so chooses to bleed in to uphold the initials of EAW!  And you know something? Unlike you, I can live with that fact, I can make you hurt in the most malicious way, and I can sleep with a clean conscience without having to pray the blood away.  So how about you come to that ring in the mindset that you're coming into it alone and see what you can do to EAW's resident punching bag. It's time to make the pizza, motherfucker.

PB backs away from the camera with his hands out to his sides, naked as a jay bird, and only wearing the EAW National Title as he turns, literally and figuratively showing his ass to the camera as he exits the still running showers.

This is uncut, this is uncensored, this is raw --- everything I'm going to say is unfiltered. I've bit my tongue for some time and I don't think it's fair to any of you if I kept lip-tight about it anymore.

Every single one of you are too sensitive, you get your feelings hurt and you hold things against everyone. You're so passive-aggressive, you talk about others behind their backs and you run your mouths. You don't know how to talk to anyone, you don't know when to shut your mouths and you bite off more than you can chew. You know I'm right and that's too hard for you to swallow, that's too hard for you to stomach and digest. You hate it, you hate it with every fiber of your being but you're not going to do anything about it because there's nothing you can do about it. None of you have it in you to do anything and that could just be because of how you were raised --- you were sheltered and you were nurtured. You can't do anything yourselves, you have to have someone to do it for you. Some of you don't even know how to take a shower and you have to have your mother remind you of how. You know how sad that is? You know how sad it is that you have to be reminded to take a shower? It's more than sad --- it's shameful. It's shameful because I have to put a stop to that and put some of you back in your place. Shame is what you feel. You know who else feels that? Your mother. Because she still has to raise you, she still has to shelter you and she still has to nurture you. You're sad and you're a terrible human being for making your mother do that. What's even more sad is that you have to rely on this, that you're so consumed with this. You have no one else, no one has your back anymore and you have no one's back anyway. Because if you had someone's back, you'd just stab them there. You wouldn't even hesitate to stab them in the back if it benefits you in any way, shape or form. That's because you're me first. That's because you're selfish. That's because you don't care about anyone but yourself. You don't care about anyone else and that's why no one likes you. That's why the ones who like you are the ones who are just like you. The ones who are going to tell you what you want to hear, the ones who aren't going to disagree with anything you say, the ones who are just as sheltered and nurtured as you are. Half of you are. Some of you talk a big game but what it boils down to is who wants it more and I want it more than any of you. None of you have the passion and the fire that I have. I've been taken to limits that I didn’t even know I had and each time, I walked out. I walked out on my own two feet, most of the time I walked out with the win. I walked out even after I had been through so much. Are you starting to get it through your thick, brainless skulls? Are you starting to realize that messing with me is a lost cause? That stabbing me in the back is just a foolish move? You have to realize that you and I are on different playing fields. If any of you try me, if any of you step up to the plate, if any of you take a swing... you're not even going to put the bat to the ball and get a hit. You don't know where to put it, you don't know the difference between a 4-seam fastball and a 2-seam fastball or the difference between a changeup and a split finger. You swing at the first pitch. You hitting a home run? That's not going to happen. What's going to happen is that I'm going to teach you a lesson; a lesson in position.

Everything you see? Everything from the hard mat on the ring to the grainy/shit-filled dirt in the ground is in MY name. Every step you make, every breath you take... that's MY floor you're stepping on, that's MY air you're breathing in. In Saudi Arabia, if you steal anything, if you take anything that isn't yours, they cut your hand off. After you've stolen something, you're nothing more than a thief. You know what I'm going to do for those who have stolen from me, who has taken from me? I'm going to cut their legs off and I'm going to cut their oxygen off. They're going to be on their hands and knees in front of me and they're going to be gasping for air like the bottom bitch they are. They're going to be on life support for a few weeks, they're going to be drinking their food through a straw and as they're drinking their food, the doctor is going to go into the hospital room, check up on them and inform them that there's not much else they can do. The doctor is going to try to get permission from their loved ones, permission to take them off of life support but the doctor isn’t going to get anyone's permission because their loved ones don't even love them. To their loved ones, they've been dead and after the doctor takes them off of life support, they're going to be pronounced dead --- their name on the obituaries in the local newspaper. Though I might be trapped to the ring, I actually like it. I like being trapped in there. You have no idea what it’s like to be trapped in there because if he had any idea, then you'd be too much of a wuss to get into the ring. None of you can hold a candle to me. You're not what I am in the ring. I go out there and the fans are on their feet for me because they spend their hard-earned money on tickets to watch me. You're not what I am and you're never going to be. The sad thing is, is that you want to be me more than anything. You imitate me, you take notes; you mold yourself into my image. You talk about me to the others in the back and try to make me look bad. You try to exploit me but little do you know, there's nothing to expose. You can't expose something that's been open. The fans know about me, everyone in the back knows about me and your family knows about me. I'm the one that's making the rules; I'm the one that's reestablishing EAW to what it used to be. I create everything here because I'm on the highest pedestal. Tell me who can do what I've done in this business? You can't because you can't even beat me even if I was blindfolded and two hands tied behind my back. What can you do to me that hasn't been done before? Tell everyone I'm a liar and some sort of a fake? Make everyone think that? What can you do? You can't hurt me unless my back is turned so what can you do? Nothing. You can't do a damn thing and that tears you up inside. That ruins you because you can't ruin me. You've tried so many times and you've failed each time. I might be trapped to the ring but at the same time, I want to be trapped there. That's what I'm good at, that's where I thrive. That's where I'm on the top of my game. Trap me in my own ring, keep me there because there? I'd tear you apart, limb from limb, breaking every bone in your scrawny and fragile body. I'm going to break you in like the bitch you are. There? No one can touch me.

I've made my way around the ropes, I know how this business works and I know how to do my job. I know what it takes to be the best and that's why I can't be beat. Some of you seem to think otherwise, some of you think I can be beat but where's the proof? Where's the evidence that supports your statements to be factual? I don't see any evidence because you make baseless claims. All you want to do is attempt to get into my head while getting the others in the back on your side but even then, with the others in the back on your side, what are you going to do to me? Have them distract me while you try to attack me from behind? I don't get distracted and I have eyes in the back of my head, so what can you even do? Oh, I know. You can take the beating that you've been wanting, then go back to your roach-infested apartment and chug a twelve pack of beer. From there, you can tell yourself that you're a failure and that I'm better than you. You should know that I'm better than you but you're stubborn --- being that stubborn makes you an even bigger fool but that's fine by me because you're going to be resting on the mat wondering what happened. You make me look weak by having the others in the back on your side, making them think these terrible things but after I've put you in your place, they're going to realize that I am what I say I am. It happens every time; it's a never-ending cycle. Make me look weak, make me look lesser somehow and I'm going to show how much stronger I am. Do you think I like that you're twisting things and talking about me like you know me? That you're trying to persuade the others in the back that I'm good for nothing? You're going to slander me and for what? So everyone dislikes me because I'm the face? You're trying to destroy EAW when I'm trying to rebuild it. I destroyed the faulty foundations and slowly I've rebuilt it... brick by brick, body by body, match by match. I've made this business into something someone could be proud of. You just want to take that away because you're jealous of me... always have been. I mean, look at you, you put on an act as if you're tough and scary. You get a kick out of telling others to kill themselves and you get a kick out of making others feel like shit but that just goes to show how sad you are. You're so insecure over yourself and it's depressing. You try and turn EAW into a joke by trying to take over it. What do you think this is? This is a business. This isn't a place for immaturity. I'm the example that's set for guys like you but just like guys like you, you won't get anywhere. You're going to sit and drawn in your own disgust to the point you realize that everything I've said about you is the truth. I've made you my bitch and it's sad because I thought more of you. I expected so much more from you. You want to be me but no one wants to be you. Know why that is? That's because you're stuck in a place built by my own two hands; stuck with someone that created everything. Mr. DEDEDE didn't create this place, I did. In just a few years, I've made this business what it is. I've created everything. The fans, the atmosphere, I've created it all. Everything happens because of me. I'm the life of this business and I'm everything everyone wants to be. I'm the face, the measuring stick and the Hall of Famer here.

But... there seems to be a few who are two-faced in this business and that's what I've learned in the past year --- that this is a business and everyone is in it for themselves. That was something I had to learn and after learning that, I don't feel bad whatsoever for the things I've said and for the things I'm going to do. I don't feel bad because this is a business and in this business, it's either kill or be killed and I'm not going to be killed.

You? You're just stuck thinking about beating me, then realizing you can't do that. You think you work so hard but you never seem to get anything done. I know how you are; you go on and say that all you ever want to do is be on top but you won't even climb. You slip and you fall. You won't put the work in as you're too busy complaining like the little bitch that you are. You complain because you lose a match fair and square. You complain if you don't get what you want. Take off the layer of skin that you wear in front of everything and we're left with a scared, whiny little bitch. You're scared of confrontation; scared of the truth, scared of me. You tell yourself constantly that you can't beat me and you know it. You make yourself think that you're below me which is why you're reluctant to say something to my face. You're hesitant to say some things because you know every word out of your mouth is a blatant lie. You're just spreading falsehoods and fabrications. Misconstruing everything I say. You're fake. You've fallen to me too many times and you're going to fall to me again. I want everyone to see you where you belong which is on your knees looking up at the fans wondering why you got yourself into this. This is everything to me, this is the business I care about; this is my home and you aren't taking me out of it. I try to bring order to EAW and if I have to do it by injuring others and telling the truth that no one wants to hear, then so be it. I will do anything to make sure EAW is honest and organized. I'm the reason we are where we are today. I'm making this what it is and that's something you could never do. All you know how to do is bitch, moan and bitch some more. Everything about you makes me want to hate you even more because I can't take you seriously. No one can. You can't even sit in the same room as me, let alone compete in one. If any of you try me, if any of you get into the ring with me, then I'm going to enjoy beating you... hurting you... humiliating you. Just like how you've tried to humiliate me and stop me from building the most prominent era in EAW history, I'm going to humiliate you. You're going to be humiliated because everyone is going to see you for what you are, everyone is going to find out that you're nothing more than a rat, everyone is going to know that you've lied to them. At the end of the day, you don't care about them or anyone else, you just care about getting what you want. That's your prerogative and it's a shame because everyone thought you actually cared for this business. I never thought that though. Because I'm not gullible like them, I have a brain and can think for myself. You might be wondering who I've been talking to this whole time but I'm talking to those who I have a problem with. I'm talking to those who don't have a backbone in their body to do anything to me. I'm talking to those who I've just gotten sick and tired of. I'm not singling out one person, I'm putting the entire locker room on notice. Whoever is holding the Answers World Championship before Pain for Pride is going to be defending it against me and I'm going to take it away from them like how some of you have tried to take everything away from me, like how Ares Vendetta tried to end my career. So much for that, huh? It's clear what I want. What I want... is a shot at the Answers World Championship. What I want... is to headline Pain for Pride. What I want... is Ares Vendetta.

Opening wounds...

Spoiler:

So... It's tonight. 

Two goals. Two matches. Fifty opponents.

FIFTY FUCKING OPPONENTS. I swear to fucking christ, it's literally HBG versus the entire EAW Roster, something I never thought would happen even when it was jokingly brought up in my second Vixens Championship run. Do you think I'll shiver in fear? Do you think I'll twitch moments before my matches? OH! Do I have a worried look on my face right now? 

NO FUCKING WAY. 

I am alive and well! I rejoice over this so-called "trial", I am undeniably jubilant over the fact that I am about to make history in one night, that would affect the course of my entire career. Because really, what's the use of wallowing in tears waiting for someone to attack me and question my capabilities when I can just spend more time proving why they shouldnt and training for what, by far, is the most challenging night of my career? Going after my ambitions is what I've always been good at. You've seen it when I returned last year for Y2Impact to chase the Tag Team Championships! You've seen it when I got to spend every moment with my Hexa-gun comrades fighting off these glorified parasites and undertrained wannabe-athletes in FPVs where I had few of my finest moments! You have seen them as of late when I defeated my opponents, those who dared to stand across me and told me that I can no longer rely on my comrades, and I fucking kicked their asses one by one, and forced them to eat their words because I NEVER NEEDED HELP TO BEGIN WITH! And sure as the sun will rise and set within a day, I will contunue to let everyone see this passion, this fire, this greatness that I am capable of displaying in the ring. You can pile in those losses, and those times I've suffered defeat, but rest assured I would only scream "ZERO DEATHS" at your faces, reminding you that they're not enough to kill my fighting spirit. 

Though Hexa-gun is gone, EXTREME still lives within me. I am the representation of outrunning my opposition and robbing them blind when they don't see it coming, for the sake of my victory. I am the face of taking extreme measures and letting the audience know that I am willing to have my back broken, my skull cracked, my skin cut and my ribs crushed just to fight again and make them regret ever getting their slimy hands on me. I AM THE IMAGE OF TAKING RISKS AND PUTTING MY WELL BEING ON THE LINE IF IT MEANT MY GOALS WOULD COME TO LIGHT! I AM THE PERSONIFICATION OF STRENGTH AND CREATIVITY COMBINED! These dimwits are forgetting just exactly who I am, as they have forgotten what I am capable of. They forget what this match truly means to me and why I am set on winning it. WELL GET IT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING SKULL THAT I AM NOT JUST SOME OTHER BITCH SLAPPED IN THE ELITIST DIVISION BECAUSE THE MANAGEMENT FELT SORRY FOR HER LOSER ASS THAT SHE COULDNT WIN THE GODDAMN VIXENS CHAMPIONSHIP WHEN SHE WAS LITERALLYH THE ONLY OTHER VIXEN BESIDES THE CHAMPION! Like to talk shit? Here you fucking go. The reason I aspire to win the Grand Rampage match is I intend on going far and beyond what peoiple expect for a Vixen. I am willing to play the danger game where any day I could lose my head, because I set myself to a higher standard -- the standard of excellence, the standard of EXTREME, and I don't see something like this as a priviledge or a right, this is WHAT I WANT, and I AM WINNING IT FOR MYSELF. I don't care about the Vixens Division, and certainly I don't care about the Elitists turf... I am the Heart Break Gal and every decision I make is for my own benefit. This is weight I carry on my shoulder, at least for the time being, so when the dust has settled, I only have myself to look at whether or not I walk out the winner, while I can bet on my life you would just pass this off as another instance where you competed and kept up with the bests and survived 5 minutes in until idiots like JJ Silva or Chris Elite or Lucian Black became a hindrance to your success and rained on your parade. And HOW I WISH I HAD THAT KIND OF MENTALITY AS WELL! I wish I can just pass this off as another match done, another wasted opportunity. I wish I can just say that this isn't a big deal to lose, BUT I JUST CANT RISK THINKING THAT WAY BECAUSE I DON'T KNOW WHEN AN OPPORTUNITY LIKE THIS WOULD COME MY WAY AGAIN!

And I get it. I get that I'm overflowing with talent. I understand that nobody has reached my level of greatness, and I get that I am better than everyone else in the ring, and that the World Championship is bound to come my way... but it might take months, it might take years for that to happen and I refuse to waste another second waiting for my turn, distracted by the endless parade of stupidity from people who claim they are "better" than me, when I can just take everyone out in one match and take the stage for myself. I am taking action.

This isn't a cry for desperation. 

This is determination. This is passion. This is Greatness. 

This is The Heart Break Gal.

Soon WINNER of the 2016 Grand Rampage. And don't you fucking forget that.

    (With the Grand Rampage match just a day away, Christian is in the back sitting by himself, staring at his boots that are placed before him. He notices the camera in the corner of his eye and slowly turns to it.)

I don’t think anybody expected me to make it as far as I have. Relax, this isn’t going to be me talking about how I have beaten the odds and how many thought I shouldn’t be in EAW in the first place because I am too small, or something along those lines. Fuck those sob stories, we have heard enough of those! No, I want to make myself perfectly clear when I say that I belong here in EAW and I think, actually no I believe that I have earned my keep, so to speak, just like I have earned my salary, with my jaw dropping performances so far. With just those five matches, I have already made it onto a FPV card. Now Ashten never wanted me in this position. He made that clear when he wanted his boy Starr Stan to suplex me five hundred times in the middle of the ring. Again this isn’t me trying to tell you that management has it out for me as I come up with all these conspiracy theories with a tinfoil hat on. It’s fair to say that when he first saw me, he didn’t imagine a guy like me beating a legend like Starr. To those watching this right now, don’t act like you saw it coming either. “But Christian I watched you tear it up on the independent circuit! I bragged about you to all my friends! I just knew you would be special!” You know how many times I have heard that from fans on twitter and fans that come up to me in real life situations during this last week? You guessed it, a lot. And every time I listen to them pretending to be this wonderful wrestling scout with a golden eye for only the most superior talent, I can’t help but smirk because this hype I have gotten, whether it is a lot or not, doesn’t change the fact that I never heard from one fan BEFORE my match, telling me that I could beat America’s best, from the city of Pittsburgh. Once I did it, sure, that’s a different story. These are the same fans that think if they cheer loud enough for me, I will embrace them. I will become their beloved little guy who can do flips and literally run circles around his opponents. I will be seen as a real life superhero, such as The Flash! But because I show little to no emotion to them, I am the bad guy. I am the guy with the black hat that rode into Voltage territory with every intention of setting the place on fire. I could tell you that I would be willing to fill that role. I would love to be the man that you despise, but unfortunately, I do not care about good or evil because I gave up on caring a long time ago. So with that said, Christian Locke isn’t Batman or The Joker – Christian Locke is Christian Locke. Yes, by far more dangerous.
 
When I qualified for the Grand Rampage, I was actually a little happy. I’m not going to lie, I was looking forward to rubbing elbows with some of the greatest men and women in EAW history – and eliminating them seconds later of course. I was also looking forward to calling them out and tell them why my chances of winning are greater. But as Grand Rampage week came around, that excitement I once felt in my soul, was simply put out and has yet to return. I namedropped a few people, just to feel them out, to see if they would bite so I could reel them in, but instead of getting a swordfish, I got nothing. Now I could stand up and pump my chest out and say it’s because they fear me, but I know that’s not the case. I have been in federations before when the new guy comes in and starts boasting about how he will be the next big thing, a speech we have all heard before, just in different variations over the course of time, we tend to brush him aside. Those rookies fall one by one, like dominos. But every once in a while, one of them, or perhaps if we are lucky enough, a couple show promise. They show that they will become something special, not by just their words of course, but their style of wrestling as well, along with the many victories they rack up because of that style. How do I know? Because I am sure the legends in this very company experienced the same thing when they first started out, but not once did it ruin their drive of becoming one of, if not the very best wrestler n history. I am the same way. My opponents can insult me all they want. They can call me irrelevant, aka the Liam special, speaking of which I know Liam briefly responded to what I had to say, but in the end he failed to make it interesting. I had no desire to even finish the tape of what he had to say. It’s the same BS as before. Which left me with two choices, I could either try to force myself to respond to him again, only for him to tell me I don’t matter again and tell me I should focus on someone like Y2Impact, which perhaps I should have done because he actually knows what he is doing and saying, or I could just ignore Mr. Catterson and yeah, I am going to have to choose the latter. To be fair, I wasn’t trying to pick on Liam just now. I would never do such a thing! I was more so using it as an example because like I said last time, I could say something negative about someone who has done it all in this business, a guy like Dark Demon or the guy I just mentioned, Y2Impact, but I already know what kind of response they will give me. They too will take the Liam route. Sure they will go about it in a more intelligent way, you know? They will actually put some thought into their words and not just try to use every swear word they have learned from their childhood friends, but in the end, they too will say something like I do not matter or that they didn’t even know I existed. I could move down to the next tier, to the favorites of winning the Grand Rampage, Lucian Black and Aren, but they too will have a similar response. I could move down a couple more tiers and talk to a few guys who refuse to shut their mouth, such as JJ and Judas and Erbos, but they too will hit me with the same thing. Do you see what I am getting at? I am in an awkward position because once again, I wasn’t supposed to be in this match. Starr was, which I guess the match never mattered in the first place since he ended up in the Grand Rampage regardless, just like somehow Lucas Johnson found a spot, even though he failed a few times at qualifying – actually he has failed at everything for that matter, so my guess is they felt bad for him and just said, what the hell? He is the Rudy of EAW. He gets the crap kicked out of him every week, but to his credit he gets back up to just get knocked down again. Very influential stuff.
 
(Christian looks down at his boots again)
 
The next time I put these on, it will be go time. I will be walking down that ramp and I will be surrounded by men and women and of course, who could forget the fun surprise entrants, with us all thinking of when the perfect time is to strike and eliminate one another. I could play it safe. I could just roll out of the ring and wait on the outside like I did in my match last Sunday. A few are probably already thinking of using that as their go to strategy, but do you know what? I am not going to follow their lead. Instead, I am going to run to the ring and swing. Swing with all my might and whether I hit a grand slam or I strikeout, all I know is I am going to give it my all! I am going to be the little boy living his childhood dream! If someone eliminates me, I will just tell myself better luck next time and shake the fans hands and thank them for coming out and spending money on EAW’s finest elitists and vixens. And when an interviewer comes to talk to me, I won’t be heated! No I will pat him or her on the shoulder, look into the camera and tell the kids that losses don’t matter, as long as you try your best! After all, that’s all you can ever ask foir!
 
But for real, I am winning this shit whether you like it or not.

UNIVERSITY OF NOTRE DAME CAMPUS
ALPHA BETA OMEGA FRATERNITY HOUSE - POOL PARTY
3:45 pm on FRIDAY

Kenny Drake, Niki Khan, and Daisuke Kobayashi wander around a pool party. There are hella bros with deep arm tank tops - cos chicks LOVE armpits - and ironically bright hats. The "women" (read: drunk girls) are walking advertisements for Forever 21 and poor parenting. Some shitty Flo Rida song plays in the background.

Flo Rida. The Wayne Brady of Rap music. Ugh.

I hate college kids.

Niki's face echoes that sentiment. She looks...perturbed.

Man, this Word Of The Day calendar is awesome...anyway...

Kenny is shirtless with his hair tied up into a top notch. He is in stark contrast to his wife: he wears bright colors, she wears all black.

KOBA is in Macho Man Underoos. OHHHHHH YEAH! DIG IT!

YEEEEEEEEAH this is my scene! Look at all these douche bags!

It's like a gay porn wrap party.

Nah, not enough streamers...

I mean...how would I know?

No, I remember that time.

In Boise.

In Boise.

Those were some wild years...

Wild. Yeah. That's not the word I would use.

Well, no-one was talking to you. NIKI!!! THEY GOT POOL TOYS!

Ohmygod...WHY are we here, Kenny?

Prep work!

For?

GRAND RAMPAGE BAY BAY!!

The Bro's all erupt in cheers. Kenny jumps slightly, not expecting it.

JEEZUSchrist...but yeah...we're here for Grand Rampage.

How...wha...how is this at ALL going to help you?!

I am SO glad you asked! KOBA!! Prep the PA!

KOBA nods and shoves the stereotypical Asian DJ away from the set. KOBA blows Kenny a kiss to show he's ready.

...k...

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! BROS AND...BRAHS? MAY I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE?!

fuuuuuck you bruh

THANKS, SKYLAR! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, TOMORROW NIGHT IS THE GRAND RAMPAGE!!

The Bro's erupt again. Kenny again flinches.

gah...ANYWAY! MY NAME IS KENNY DRAKE, AND I AM PARTICIPATING IN THE LARGEST GRAND RAMPAGE IN THE HISTO--

get to the point, feg. Feckin' feg, bruh bruh!

COOL YOUR JETS, CODY! OK, WHOEVER CAN THROW ME INTO THE POOL GETS $5,000!

No-one cheers.

...$5,000...AMERICAN!

The bros erupt. Some of them take their last chugs before KOBA hits Paris is Burning.

Three bros rush Kenny, who ducks under a double lariat. Two splashes. The third lets out a primal scream, but Kenny lifts him up and tosses him into the pool.

Five more dude bruh's rush Kenny, but he disposes of them just as quickly as the first three.

One bro grabs Kenny in a waist lock and traps his arms as another rushes at them. Kenny raises his feet and shoves the rushing bro back into the pool before swinging his feet back, sending him and the waistlock bro into a forward roll. Kenny stands and hoists the Bro into the air...suplex into the pool!

Another bro rushes forward and wraps Kenny in a pool noodle. Two more rush forward and go for another double lariat, but Kenny slips down and out of the noodle. The two Lariat bros...uh...lariat the Noodle bro into the pool.

Nobody else steps forward. Kenny stands and looks around.

No-one else?! NOBODY ELSE WANTS TO TRY?!

uh...Kenny...

NOBODY ELSE?!

Kenny...that guy next to the keg...

Which keg? There's, like, twenty of them...

Never mind, he's on his way.

Kenny looks to his right and spots who Voice was talking about. A giant Redwood of a man stomps forward. He wears a Pacers jersey, fluorescent pink bike shorts, and Air Jordan high-tops..

Jesus Christ...kids today are stupid...

Was that who you were talking about?

No, I was talking about the Asian DJ.

...Koba?

Russell want to fight you.

Ok. Then go get Russell.

No no. I be Russell.

Wow, people really talk like that, eh?

I guess Notre Dame is easier to get into than a Waffle House. ISN'T IT, RUSSELL?!

No more talk, little boy. Russell will break you in half!

please say "Russell smash", please say "Russell smash"...

RUSSELL SMASH!!

YAY!!

With that, Russell lunges forward, swinging his massive right fist at Kenny, who simply ducks...low blow...foot on the ass...shove...splash.

Kenny turns to the camera as Russell struggles to swim, using the other Bro's as flotation devices.

And JUST LIKE THAT, EAW Fans! GRAND RAMPAGE will be JUST. LIKE. THAT!

No matter what number I enter...no matter how many Elitists are in the ring when I do...Kenny Drake will be throwing EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM OVER THE TOP ROPE AND INTO THE FRONT ROW!

Aren Mstislav! BYE BYE! Back to Russia!

Liam Catterson! BYE BYE! Back to obscurity where you belong!

J.D. Damon! I'm saving you for last...then BYE BYE, BACK HOME TO MOM!

You can take those three examples and put ANYBODIES NAME in there, and the result will be the damn same! If I enter at Number one, number two, number sixteen, number forty! The Result STAYS THE SAME! I will be Final Four...

then Final Three...

then Final Two...

then the Only. One. Left.

And tomorrow night, when it's all said and done - when all the fans have gone home, and all the custodians finish sweeping the confetti - 39 other Elitists will go back to their respective hotel rooms, take a long hot shower, and at the same time, they'll all look into the mirror and say, in unison...

DRAKE.
RULES.
EVERYTHING.
AROUND ME.

KOBA! Play me out!

"Thrift Shop" by Macklemore hits.

Kenny hangs his head.

...dammit, Koba...


BLACK

[/color]

Yeah, Lucian, You are the favourite to win this match, all the bookies have you down with the best odds to win, all the pundits and the analysts have you down to win, I’m sure a lot of the people in this Grand Rampage also have you down to win this match. I’m sure a lot of people just feel like the Cinderella story is just about to happen for you, I’m sure they all feel like this is the time where you finally get over the hump and win the big one, that your time is finally here and that you will get that big Cinderella story win that hasn’t happened since Cyclone won the Grand Rampage in 2010 and went on to win the world title at Pain for Pride, a lot of people expect you to do the same. A lot of people expect you to go ahead and redeem yourself from last years Pain for Pride when you failed Dynasty. You are EXPECTED to win this match, Lucian, just like Aren Mstislav is expected to win this match and I’m not denying you that, I’m not denying you that despite your past and your short-comings, that despite Arens short-comings, you both are expected to go ahead and win this match. I’m sure a lot of people expect it to come down to you and Aren in the final two, I’m sure a lot of people expect the two of you to battle it out to finally overcome one of your short-comings, I’m not saying people are expecting to win, because I know they aren’t. I know people aren’t considering me to win, I know they do not want me to win. They want you to win, they want that headline story, they want that great Cinderella story of a guy who has faced failure after failure after failure but yet keeps coming back time after time and finally I s able to reach the top of the mountain. It’s the type of story that EAW could use for years, it’s the type of story that all the young aspiring wrestlers could look to as inspiration for their own careers, that they too could be safe in the knowledge that they could have a few shortcomings and still be able to become a success like you. Yes, Lucian, YOU are the favourite to win this match, YOU are the one expected to win this match, YOU are the one who everybody is going to be gunning for when you enter the match. But that isn’t exactly something to want, that isn’t exactly a plus for you or why you will win this match, you know why that’s a BAD thing for somebody like you?

Because you have more pressure to win now that you are the favourite.

You have everybody who isn’t in the Grand Rampage hoping that you will win, you have all those thousands of fans who cheer you on hoping that you’ll win, you’ll have management hoping that their investment finally pays off, you’ll have everybody hoping that you finally shut me up. You have all of that pressure on your shoulders, you have all of that pressure on you and you’ll have all that pressure if you do win and go on to main event Pain for Pride. Are you really able to handle all of that, Lucian? Are you really able to handle all of that pressure? Are you really able to carry all of that weight of expectation on your shoulders? Maybe, maybe you think you can, maybe you’re confident enough or that you have you convinced yourself that you are able to do this but do you really believe that you are able to do this? The history of your entire career says that you can’t, Lucian, every time you have been expected to win, every time that you finally had your chance to have the ultimate Cinderella story, you end up failing and caving into the pressure. What is going to make this time, any different? What is going to change this time around? Your words are empty, I truly do believe that you are now starting to feel the pressure. Look at Aren, look at how much the pressure has gotten to him, look at how much he is now starting to struggle, he’s lost for words and he can’t even make a solid case for why he should win this match, and I think you are the same, ultimately. I truly do believe that you will once again fall under the pressure of the expectations that are you, Lucian. I don’t feel the pressure of this match, Lucian, I’ve been in the most pressure match in the history of EAW and while I may have lost that match after it took a legitimate army to put me down, this is nothing compared to Pain for Pride six for me. If I lose, we both know that I’m big enough to either force myself into a World title shot or get into a big match on the card at Pain for Pride, but we’ve already established that you might not be as lucky if you fail once again. So tell me, is being the favourite still a good thing for you, Lucian?

Grand Rampage V: Victory Or Die

I find it particularly humorous how so called Russian monarchs, rookies who know nothing about this industry, washed up elitists who are desperately trying to revive their glory days in other companies and even puppets of a tyrant think they are above me. Think that I don't stand a chance just for the mere fact my track record isn't exactly clean. Some of you have even  been trying to completely avoid me. Some of you have deluded yourselves into thinking that I am not a factor in this match despite the fact I have destroyed most of you in the middle of the ring every single time we have shared a ring. I hate to break this reverie you're all caught up in but I AM winning Grand Rampage NOT any of you. If you kids truly want this so bad you will wait until next year's Grand Rampage. I had to wait much more than that and I am not waiting any longer. If I waited seven long years all of you can wait one. This is my last shot at redemption. None of you know what it's like to deal with the disappointed faces of your peers, of your fans. I know I am the one to blame for all my past failures. I'm the reason I haven't been World Champion yet. Not Zack Crash, not Alex Anderson. But I learned from the mistakes I committed. I learned my lesson. I've said this before and I'll say it again: I'm actually satisfied with everything that transpired in the past. I'm glad I faced obstacle after obstacle, setback after setback, failure after failure. Because each and every single one of those experiences made me better. They aided me in my transformation from infant to man and in my eventual metamorphosis from elitist to legend. Some people still think that I will always live in the shadow of iconic names I have been associated with in the past like Alexander Da Vinci, Captain Charisma and even Y2Impact. This is my chance to step out of those shadows, to showcase what I am made of, to demonstrate just how good I truly am and to prove every single one of you who still doubt me wrong. Last year I defied a tyrant, I walked straight into hell and I made "the devil" my bitch. I punished him in a way nobody ever was able to do so before. I valiantly fought tooth and nail against him and I successfully removed him out of power. Nonetheless 2015 wasn't my best year... 2016 will be because I don't settle for mediocrity, I'm going to win Grand Rampage no matter what it takes, I will headline the biggest show on the face of the Earth: Pain for Pride and I will become a legend. And I can only hope my story serves as inspiration to guys who are like me, who came from nothing and struggle day to day to attain an ounce of success, who are continually told they can't do something but they still go ahead and do it. My victory will also serve as a reminder that nothing is really impossible in this life. Every goal can be fulfilled, every accolade can be achieved if you believe in yourself. As cliche as it may sound it is true. I don't think I am owed anything. Honestly, nobody is owed anything. We've all contributed to the success of this company in some way, shape or form. We're all the reason this place is a success. One guy can't be the face of the company, one guy can't carry a company on his back. But I still tried to do it because I thought I could and that's probably why I became unsuccessful at winning the big one so many times. Because  I was too arrogant, too cocky, i thought the world belonged to me. I thought I was going to become champion easily, that I would have a facile journey, but my journey towards the World Championship has been anything but easy. I have had to work arguably harder than any of my Grand Rampage opponents. I have scratched and clawed to get this far and my competition needs to know this perfectly well: I won't allow anybody and I mean anybody to take this away from me.Not after everything I have been through. I've finally realized that I suffered all of those significant losses because I had to, to become prepared for what awaits me in a day. All the failures I experienced shaped me into a monster. And this monster will devour you all. I'm coming for my World Championship, what is rightfully mine. Regardless who steps in my way I will decimate them. All of them, without distinction. Friend or foe. It's my time to shine... my turn to be under the spotlight. I'll utilize every damn weapon in my arsenal to achieve survival and emerge victorious from this war. Not just a spear and  a superman punch -- ALL of them. So I suggest all of you prepare yourselves to the fullest. Because I am coming for blood.