Ah yes, Nixon. Mr “when the president does it, that means it is not illegal.”

It’s a quote that lives on in infamy, every time people hear it they motion towards emotion.

But is it that refutable? We got a living president today, an arguable war criminal with only a Nobel Peace Prize to show for it despite how weak at the knees many of you get hearing about what his army does around the world.

I respect that.

That’s power.

As fascinating as it is for someone who reps the backyard white Christian society to call me xenophobic, as entertaining as it is for someone to call me Nixon after referring to himself as the female Nixon Hillary Clinton herself, and even as amusing it is for someone to lack self awareness so greatly they talk about my reptilian nature on the levels Alex Jones talks about lizard men yet thinking I’m the Trump supporter, it is all for not because you can’t hurt me Pizza Boy. I didn’t come up as no pussy, as these words you got, all these platitudes, you not thinking right if you think they mean jack squat to me. All that matters are the funds and credibility to your name that you got, if you don’t got those you don’t have shit. Lady friend? In the singular too? Ain’t no such thing, how does that song go with that sucker getting cheated on? “I’m a good man, food on the table, working two jobs, ready, willing and able, check. Good man, up having fun, got no kids and I love the lord, check.”, and then this motherfucker at the end of the music video is giving hoes money despite betrayal cause he’s a “good man”, real responsible. Women don’t got no good man friends, they love flirting with danger, and the quicker you know that the quicker you know how to conquer the world. I’m not bragging about ladies right now just for the fun of it, if you’re a sucker in one department I guarantee you run your entire life business as a sucker, I treat these broads like I treat everything else, a game for my pleasure. You ask if my eyes are open? Yeah, I’m real woke.

You could beat me to a bloody pulp, and I’d still spit my own blood onto your face before I admit to weakness, death before I show fallibility.

Everything that you think makes someone human from where I come from makes you nothing but a grade A punk! You clearly don’t want to put respect on my name, you talk to me like I’m your son, but it’s the other way, I’m the man who is going to have to put the beat down on a boy for running his mouth too casually. See you’re the type of crusader that makes it so a brother has to go and take it to another level, has to do the work of savages when I’m normally out here messing around and playing my way to the top, you put what you have coming on Showdown onto yourself. From what you’re saying your eyes are open too, but don’t blink, I catch you slipping and you’ll be catching an ambulance out of the building, and I’m talking before and during the match. I don’t get where you come off saying I refuse to compete half the time, I never refused a fight or taken a day off from running the dark alleys I’ve made of this brand, I’m always on the prowl making moves ahead, and if there’s EVER a night I’m not in that ring wrestling it’s because every time someone comes up to me they be taking naps because with these fists I be popping them sleeping pills, and the powers at be try to curb the addiction that the whole Showdown roster got.

But you been running your raggedy-ass vigilante work far too long, pulling all nighters like you’re some kind of 24/7 busybody who found the anti snooze button every time those damn eyelids of yours ever come close to coming down. You’ve been asking to get your ass knocked out, and I’ll answer you soon enough.

And right before I put you to bed boy, I’ll look into your eyes like you want so much, but I won’t be looking for doubt.

I’ll be looking for regret.

God Bless America. Wow. Great crowd here today. Thank you, thank you. An excellent crowd. This is the greatest country in the world. It’s a damn shame, you know, that the greatest country in the world is being overrun by the radicals we see in today’s politically correct climate. Greatest country in the world. A great country. But forces are at work trying to destroy us. We got the social justice crew standing up at their soapboxes -- or should I say, sitting down, cause they ain’t in good enough condition to give a speech standing up! I don’t trust nobody who needs to sit down at a podium. Not a single soul. Crooked Hillary, that means you. I say Crooked Hillary, because she’s a crook. Hillary’s crooked. It’s a fact, dispute it all you want. Confirmed fact. She has no problem sitting on her little stool and lying to you. But it’s not just her, or even the Democratic Party. Politicians on both sides have become spineless. Absolutely devoid of any convictions. They will tell these poor souls, their constituents, that they’re on the right path, when they’re really just screwing their lives up. Personal responsibility, it’s a lost value. Nobody’s taking responsibility for themselves any more. The social justice crew, they’ll tell you it’s ok not to work hard. “Here, take a handout. Come cry about your life at this group therapy session. Don’t make any changes. Just take a pill. Or a hooker”. It’s all bullshit.

You got guys like the Philly Kid, running around -- well, not running. It’s more of a brisk hobble. They’re hobbling around, beer guts hanging out, cholesterol levels sky high, heart attack waiting to happen. Yet they see no problem with their lives. Philly Kid’s rally cry is “Fat Lives Matter”. No, Philly Kid. Lazy, undisciplined lives DO NOT MATTER. There, I said it. What are you nerdy internet bloggers on Gawker gonna do about it? I’m a monster of a man, you assclowns would shit your pants if you stepped in my general vicinity. Here’s what you guys with no work ethic, no responsibilities, no family to support don’t understand. Your body is a reflection of your lifestyle and your values. When you’re as obese as the Philly Kid, it shows that you are lazy and undisciplined. That carries over into your professional life, and your personal relationships. You already know where I was at Philly Kid’s age. I was working back breaking manual labor jobs, 5 AM to 5 PM, while training to become a wrestler, and campaigning for the Texas Republican Party. And I was doing all that as a married father, while Philly Kid is a pure man-child. No pride, no self-discipline, just a punk ass young kid. I’m in my mid 30s. So I’m not that much older than Philly Kid, we’re both considered millennials. But the gap in our experiences and work ethic is just so damn large, it’s like we’re from different worlds. And it’s true, we are. I’m from Texas, you’re from pussy ass Pennsylvania. I don’t know what they teach you in Philly, but here, you wouldn’t survive a day.

Now I have to team with this blubbery tub of of lard, the Philly Kid, against these two weirdo emo demented “extreme” dudes who enjoy hitting people with barbed wire. Kurt Burton, Rattik, and The Philly Kid. What a motley crew this is. Kurt Burton came out swinging with a weak ass promo that was shorter than his dick. Shows no work ethic. If he's putting the same amount of effort into his training, I'm gonna turn him into mincemeat. Pathetic. Just pathetic. Am I the only real man left in this company? Where has the sanity gone? These guys are like straight out of a straight to DVD movie. I’m not sure about the “straight” part though. Any dude who makes his entrance to Marilyn Manson is highly suspect in my book. Where I’m from, you don’t do that shit. WHERE I’M FROM, you know what we called guys who listened to Marilyn Manson? We called them faggots, cause that’s what they are. Kurt Burton used to be a metal singer. Thank God his career ended. Not that he had one in the first place. Sorry, your 38 Soundcloud followers don’t count. Truth is, and Donald Trump said it best, if you ain’t making money you ain’t successful. Try to spout all this bullshit about “perfecting your craft” and “the journey is the reward” and “doing it for the art”. That’s what it is, bullshit. Ain’t no such thing as a participation trophy! There are winners and losers in life, and success is measurable - win/loss records in the ring, bank balance, the list goes on. I’m a winner. And I got where I am today because of the work I put to improve myself. I ain’t perfect either. When I first came on the wrestling scene, I was a chubby ass tub of lard myself. My wife’s cooking was a little too good, ha. It got pretty damn bad, you can google the pictures. And you know what? I wasn’t getting anywhere. I was wrestling in bingo halls and high school gyms. Not even on EAW’s radar. Nowhere near the big time. And I said to myself, if I’m gonna do this, I have to give it 110%. So I busted my ass and transformed into the beast I am today. Burton, Rattik, you got no chance in hell of beating me. Philly Kid, just sit back and watch, boy. I’m gonna teach you how it’s done. God Bless America, I’m out.

The Book of Tyler, Chapter XI: Under God's Hot Sun, On God's Green Earth

(EAW Exclusive! This is a live recording, somewhere in Salt Lake City, Utah, where Showdown is this week and we're at the Hotel Monaco Salt Lake City; a black Lamborghini is there and the door opens to show Tyler Parker with a black eye. He's in a red suit, black underneath shirt with it unbuttoned, black ripped jeans and black boots. Tyler takes his bags and shuts the door, the camera zooms in on him and he tries to hide the black eye. He checks into the hotel and swipes the card to get into his room. Tyler tosses his bags to the side and sits down, where he takes the camera and puts it in front of him.)

I've been criticized and I'm being criticized. If there's one thing I've had throughout my career, it's criticism. Before I was even in this business, I had critics. Those that doubted me, that told me I'd never make it in this business... that I wouldn't be where I am right now. My own blood, my opponents, my significant others... none of them thought I'd get to this point in my career. Not this point that seems like I have nothing left but this point that I've given this business everything I have. That I've given my life to this business and to the ring. That I've given the time and effort that I couldn't have for a normal life. A normal life, for most, isn't so bad but for me? I hate it. I hate living like this, not training and not competing. I've never been normal. I don't know how to be normal. Unlike most of the others that I've been in the ring with, unlike most of the ones in this business... I actually care about this. I care. I care more than I should but this business has been a part of me for ten years. Though I care about this, I don't care about what others think of me, regardless if they think so or not. I don't care what any of them thought about me or what any of them have said to me, I'm here each and every week. Yeah, I'm banged up right now because of what happened to me inside of the steel structure and yeah, I know what happened to me last week but like I've said before, I get back up. I got back up and Lannister can reclaim what he thinks is his but I'll be taking it away from him. What I do to him will be even more embarrassing than what he's done to me. That's what I have to say about that because I get back at those who have hurt me and tried to end my career. Mr. DEDEDE tried, Ares Vendetta tried and that bastard has tried but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting rid of me. He could never get rid of me, no one can get rid of me because I'd get back up. My heart keeps beating, my blood keeps pumping... I'm back up and there's no stopping me. I haven't stopped because being told I couldn't do this, being told I wouldn't make it in this business, being told I'd never be World Heavyweight Champion... made me want it that much more. It made me work that much harder and being told that I'm not what I used to be, being told that I should hang it up, being told that I can't do what I say I'd do... makes me that much more single-minded on what I have to do. Lannister and I will get back in the ring again but not without some high stakes. We'll meet again and when we meet again, he won't be getting out of there. I'll make sure of it. Under God's hot sun, on God's green Earth... I'll make sure he's left with nothing. That's not what this week is about though. I'd like to get back in the ring with Lannister right now but I have a match with Ryan Marx. It was inside of the steel structure that Ryan Marx thought he could stab me and the others in the back and yeah, he might've had the others thinking that he'd actually co-exist but I'm not gullible like them and no, my feelings aren't hurt because of that. My feelings aren't hurt because it's happened to me before. I'm used to it. I kind of figured you'd do that and I hate that you were even in the match because you would've never been in the match if it weren't for some things. You weren't supposed to be in the match and I might've thought that it'd be okay because I actually like you, somewhat, but then that happened and it kind of bothered me. Instead of doing things the right away, instead of going out there and co-existing with myself and the others, you had to betray us. Instead of doing what you said you'd do that week, you couldn't even try and had to stab them in the back. I said them and not me because I'd to have my back facing you for to stab me but I knew you'd do that, I knew you'd do what so many others in that kind of match have done before which is pussy out. If you were even half the competitor, half the human being that you think you are? You wouldn't have turned your back on them. My feelings aren't hurt though because of that, their feelings might be hurt but I couldn't care less and I don't care about you. I have no concerns with what I'd do to you in the ring and this week, I think I'll blacken your eye like mine. I'll show you that you never mess with me. You're so cocky that you actually think more of a competitor than I am, that this won't take but a few minutes for you. See, I might be banged up right now but I'm the strongest competitor in this business for a reason and I have more strength in me than you could ever have. The strength that's in me is unlike any other and I'll show you that. I'll show you what happens to turncoats like you. This kind of thing? Talking? Is what I don't like to do. I won't say much more because I've said what I could say and this Saturday? It won't be me that's rendered useless because you weren't useful to begin with. You weren't useful as a partner and you won't be useful as a human being after what I do to you. You'll be of no use but one thing --- for me to make a statement.

(Tyler Parker snarls before shutting off the camera and the screen fades to black.)

Showdown Promo 1

Wow... just wow.  You guys are absolutely fucked now.  See Rattik and I, we may be a new team, but we have all of the potential possible.  And We will make an example out of these two fuckwits Philly Kid and Cody Racist McDouche nozzle.  Because Quite simply, no one will be able to withstand the might of Rattik, or the cunning of Burton.  Not a fat sack of shit that I already beat once, not some racist hill jack with a penchant for racial slurs.  And soon enough, we will have the tag team titles.  Because the Mighty may not Kneel, but they are looking awfully shaky right now.

Vlad The Impaler.

Adolf Hitler.

And Alexander The Great.

Do you know what they have in commons JJ Silva?

That’s right....they are leaders.

What’s the point of bringing up their names though? Are you trying to say that you are a leader just like they are? Hahaha, you are dumber than I thought. You have never been a leader Silva, and you probably never will. You are nothing more than just a Zack Crash’s puppet, forever and always. Let alone being a leader in a stable, you can’t even lead your own self. Not only do you need Zack watching your back all the time, but also, you need Damien Murdow to give you “free tickets” in the first place. If not because of Murdow, you won’t ever faced Mr. DEDEDE in the first hand. If not because of Murdow, you won’t even getting a chance to fight Nico Borg for the 24/7 contract either. Oh right, DEDEDE is a legend, no doubt about it. Nico Borg is breaking up the cell, I can’t deny that. I’m still a nobody compare to both men, that’s what I am according to you.

But do you know what I find really ironic Silva? That you have to face off againts “someone” like me after you failed to beat DEDEDE in the first place. How does it feel to face off againts “someone” like me after you getting a chance to face off againts someone as great as DEDEDE, Silva? Does it feel like a bitch? I sure hope so, because now you know, YOU are the one that IS STILL staying in the bottom. I AM the one that IS COMING to the top. You got your chances to prove yourself that you are your own guy, you got your chances to prove that you are as great as you THINK you are, but you failed to get the job done because you are already fucked up once you entered to this company. Do you know why?

Because you have no real purposes in this bussiness.

No. You don’t. Being a slave for someone can’t be called as an accomplishment. Being a “Mafia” member can’t be called as an accomplishment either. You have no real purposes because you are nothing more than just a dummy, Silva. You always need someone to guide you up to the ladder. Oh that’s right, aside from Zack, who did you need? Eclipse Diemos and *cough* *cough* your best buddy Chris Elite. You needed two dummies to give you a real purpose. Once you knew they weren’t good enough to give you a purpose, you came to Zack to give you one. Well since that day, you have sealed your fate as Omerta’s lackey. Since that day, you have sealed your fate as Zack’s personal little bitch. You want a proof? You can’t even come up with the past of your own. “Your” past is just all about OMERTA. You never accomplished anything in your damn life. You said it yourself that your own impact won’t matter to anyone. Sure, you did win The New Breed Champion all by your own self. But how long did it take for you to win it? 1 year. That’s right. 1 fucking year. After getting the oh-so called advices from Zack, Scott Oasis, Eclipse, and Chris, you still NEEDED 1 year to accomplish something in your pathetic life? That’s a very sad story, Silva.

I’ll admit though. I haven’t done anything to this company. I haven’t done anything to win a gold myself either. But you know what? I still have a chance to win it sooner than you did without anyone’s help. The more realistic chance for me at this moment thought, is ME kicking YOUR arse.
Just deal with it Silva, you are currently out of shape. Nico Borg already exposed it to the world. You don’t have any momentums in your hands now. My current statistic is better than yours. In every aspect, I’m just simply better than yours. How does it feel to be so delusional Silva?

You think I’ll be forggotten boy? Nah, I’ll be remember by everybody else. I’ll be remember as someone who always refuse to quit and give up. Because truthfully, you don't control my existence. Ladder can't stop me. Fire can't stop me. A roof of the car can't stop me. A broken arm can't stop me. A stereoid jackass can't stop me. I just keep going in and going out week after week. Now, what can you do stop me? Absolutely nothing. You’ll definitely remember me as someone who kicked your fucking arse so bad.

I suggest you to bring Terry Chambers to the ring if you are so desperate to beat me, it won't change anything though. You are nothing but my bitch.

Showdown Promo #4: 
Spaghetti Western: High Plains Drifter

"Everyone has a master.  Everyone has a torch to carry.  Everyone has someone or something they'd die for."

The camera stays dark as PB audibly swallows, readying himself for what he's about to say.

"I don't care what the nature of your relationship with Drake is.  I really don't.  As a matter of fact, I'd love the idea that you could have compassion for another human being.  It would mean there's some humanity in you.  Something behind your eyes besides dollar signs and self-gratification.  It would mean something matters.  It would mean that there was someone worthy of sacrifice in your life besides the almighty dollar and the fame you might think it brings.  You remind me of Nixon in a way; you're this intelligible figure whom seems to want the whole world in his hands without any of the backlash that comes when the world finds a callous or a hang nail, some imperfection in your work.  It's not because you feel guilt.  If anything you feel as if you have the utmost moral high ground.  You're the top of the food chain, you're the ruler of the free world.  Who dares question your methods? Some crummy failed reporter that isn't even American? Some failed night show host with his basement dwelling friends who've devoted their lives to exposing you as a fraud?"

The camera turns on, revealing PB's face up close laying sideways and looking weary as he stares into the camera.

"I meant no harm in implying you and Drake were an item.  If I insulted anyone but you in doing so then I apologize, but I'm sure all of the special interest groups in the would would understand that your offense at the thought of someone else thinking you have an intimate side to you is far more obscene. I even called up my old boss's at Bo and Tye's to ask them if they were offended by it and they said they had a good laugh.  I'm glad, because those two men were the closest I've come to having fathers for some time.  It would kill me inside if they thought for a second that I didn't love them.  I'd love to know that you could say that about someone Tiberius, but I know it isn't the case. I keep saying it to you OMERTA types, you HexaGun's, you're all the same so why bother differentiating? You're not in charge.  You're not a god.  There is vulnerability in you, and the fact that I would even infer it offends you more than anything else.  Sure, it's still a cold reptilian response but I see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice.  If I were to assume you had a lady friend or that you were having an intimate affair with a sheep I'd get the same reaction.  Who gives a fuck if I masturbate? Who the hell doesn't? It just means I have it in me to show love toward myself.  But you? It's just maintenance to a whore like yourself.  You get no sensation from it anymore.  Any nerve ending within you has been numbed by the calcified paper cuts of one hundred dollar bills.  At least that's what you'd want me to think.  You want me to believe that you're incapable of pain.  But you forget that you're talking to the man who stared into your eyes as you flew off of a ladder and down into a splintery wooden hell on the outside of the ring.  I've devoted my whole existence since HexaGun to the task of making you bleed, to make you cry, to make you confess with your body what you wont with your words.  You are fallible, just as I am fallible.  Even with the grace of God on my side I lost the EAW National Championship once when I started to stray from the paths of my doctrine.  I was bled, I was cut, I was forced to give up a part of myself in order to learn the lesson I'm trying to teach you.  Maybe that makes me no different than Nico Borg.  Maybe that makes me something worse since I really believe in the tonic I'm selling you that you profess to be snake oil."

Pizza Boy gives the camera a wry smile as he blows his hair off of his forehead with a sigh.

"But let's cut religion out of it for a moment.  I know you love that straw man, but let's consider that my plight is the human condition.  As I've stated I'm an imperfect man.  I've had imperfect masters teach me imperfect lessons to make me better men than they.  Part of those teachings was learning from their mistakes, i.e. 'evolving'.  Contrary what you might think I'm quite the disciple of Darwin.  I don't think his teachings dispel my beliefs.  To the contrary, I in fact think they go hand in hand quite well.  Evolution is the process of cutting out weakness genetically, and yet after millennia of nature doing so we're still as squishy as ever, thus making the laws of nature themselves imperfect.  Wouldn't it be quite arrogant of a man to think himself more capable of evolving than what nature provides? And wouldn't the world be offended to find out that he wasn't despite all of his grand standing? See, that's you.  You think you're better.  Period.  Despite the fact that I've proven the contrary on countless occasions.  Even when you run in a pack I manage to outlast the brunt of what you and your cohorts have to offer.  I took the whole of HexaGun out with a chair alone.  I even managed to out-survive all of my teammates when it came war time between the forces of HexaGun and EAW.  I didn't win, but I drew blood twice before finally being put down.  I left that match feeling like a winner because I thought I did enough damage to prove my point.  The point wasn't that I was superior.  The point wasn't that I could take you all on by myself and come out with a few pinfalls.  The point was that you all live and die as easily as I do.  Your bones are the same density as my bones.  Your blood flows through the same nervous system that I possess, and that means we're not greaters or lessers of one another.  It means that we all have to put in work to get somewhere in this industry and that shortcuts to the top aren't justified because you're the prettiest or the richest or the most ripped.  What matters is victory and defeat, adapt and perish, win or lose. That's what makes a man, and it's the losses more than the victories that matter most.  As someone who refuses to lose, as someone who refuses to compete half of the time, how does it make sense to anyone other than you and your diluted friends that you're somehow better than me? The goof? The pizza boy? The dough jockey, pie boy, bakery scented working man of America? You know, I was joking when I compared you to Trump.  It's clear political baiting, but I'm beginning to think that it's what you strive to be, and that's old money who thinks he knows how to run the world after failing time and time again to micromanage outfits or adhere to the world's laws."

Pizza Boy glances up at his hair and blushes in a moment of self-consciousness.  He reaches off camera and pulls back his "Bo & Tye's Pizzeria" delivery hat.  He slides it over his bed head and gives the camera a meek smile.

"If that's what being successful is then I'll gladly settle for beating you for the #1 Contender's ship and humbly deliver pizza to your after party as you celebrate your 'success'.  I'll even bring a baseball bat for you to cave my knee caps in with after your boys hold me down for you to do so.  Do you know why? Because I live to overcome. I live for the obstacles you throw in front of me.  I'll do the rehab again, I'll learn to walk again, I'll go through neurosurgery and endoscopy and any other kind of surgery again if it means coming any closer to proving you wrong in your belief that all that matters, all that counts, all that will ever put a smile on your face or make you feel like a somebody is a green backed picture of a dead man.  Money doesn't make you better than me, and believing in only it doesn't make you a godless recluse of society.  If anything it means that you're more whipped than I'll ever be when it comes to the men and deity that I look up to.  I can question them, they're not complete absolutes to me, but to you a dollar is only a dollar.  God.  That's got to be an empty feeling.  I pray that I can give you the relief of feeling more than that, even if it means it's only the sensation of something running down your face.  It doesn't have to be blood.  It could be tears, hell I'd settle for seeing you break a sweat.  For now I'll sleep easy and remain satiated by the look I saw in your eyes when you flew off of that ladder and when I stood against you and HexaGun alone.  It wasn't fear.  Not quite anyway.  It was confusion.  Xenophobia.  Doubt.  Look into my eyes, Jones.  Do you see doubt? Not fear, not anxiety, those are there.  Those will always be there when I step into a ring with a man far more capable than I am, and I'm always going to be at the severe disadvantage of knowing that whoever I step in the ring with is more conventionally trained.  I want you to look and see if there's doubt though. Doubt in my capabilities of coming out on top.  Doubt in my destiny, doubt toward the idea that I'm doing something wrong, something amoral, something that goes against the entire human condition as a whole.  You wont find it in my eyes Jonesy.  Not when it comes to you and I, not when it comes to who has the moral high ground.  My eyes are open, Jones."

PB glowers into the camera, his eyes gazing out from the shade of his cap.

"Are yours?"

(Ahren can be seen standing outside of a school playground)

What the hell just happened? Like seriously I’m so tripped out right now. How did I see your past? So weird, but hey it’s the EA Dub anything can happen ammi rite ladies? Anyways you’re still not getting it, its just the logistics of your timing on the whole PhD thing. Like it’s not about working hard, it’s the actual time frame that you would need to have in order to actually …

Ahren… stop, stop.. let it go, he doesn’t get the point… Fine Fine… But what I really don’t get is why you choose to spend all your time with children. Like they aren’t that interesting from what I can tell, except Ox, ha that kid was actually kind of cool. He really got me on my lines or spacing or whatever he said.. I just get lazy sometimes OX WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!! But that’s 1, all other kids shall be accounted for today.  I really haven’t gotten a true understanding about why it is you choose to spend so much time with children so I have decided to do some investigative research. Which has brought me here, to the local elementary school, lets interview them, and get inside their minds, see what’s going on in there. (Ahren climbs the fence and jumps down onto the playground, even though theres clearly an opening entrance in the fence next to where he climbed.. He travels the playground until he spots 3 kids alone, and far from adults. He walks up to them and says….)

Hello Children I am Ahren Fournier, a very famous elitist for EAW, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. What is all your names..

Kid 1: Tommy

Kid 2: Nick

Kid 3: Filipe

Ok then… So.. Kids, umm how are you, how’s your days going?

Tommy: yow name is funny

Ahren: Excuse me?

Nick: HAHA yeah!

Ahren: I don’t understand…

Tommy: Your names like a butt!

Filipe: *fart noises*

Nick and Tommy: FILIPE’S HILARIOUS!!!

Ahren: That’s… Some humor you got there… Though your logic makes no sense.

Tommy: You’re dumb like a butt!!

Ahren: How so..

(You hear a teacher running over in the background)

Teacher: SIR!! SIR!! WHO ARE YOU, GET AWAY FROM THESE KIDS

Ahren: Don’t worry, I’m Ahren Fournier, I’m just trying to understand why Maero loves these things so much.. To be honest I don’t see the appeal

Teacher: I have no idea what you’re talking about, but you can’t be here, you must leave

Ahren: I PAY TAXES, I CAN BE WHEREVER I WANT TO BE!

Teacher: That’s not even an accurate statement

Ahren: Why is it ok for Maero to hang out with kids, but I can’t even do some investigative research on them

Teacher: First of all, I don’t even know who that is, or what that means… But did you call and ask the school if this was ok?

Ahren: No.. I’m Ahren Fournier, I don’t need permission to do anything

Teacher: You need permission sir

Ahren: What about the taxes I pay? That makes me entitled to engage in activities that I paid for via taxes

Teacher: I’m calling the cops.

Ahren: Whatever, I’m leaving, I’ve found all I needed anyways

(Ahren walks away going back the way he came and jumps over the fence again, even though the entrance to the school is right next to where he climbed)

Ok.. So what’d we learn today? Kids aren’t very interesting because all they talk about is nonsense, butts, poop, and farting… That’s the company you surround yourself with? Because why? Because, based on that odd sequence where I was able to see your past, you were picked on quite a bit… Again how was I able to see that? I don’t know, it wasn’t a home movie, and we saw what your parents had to say, and then went to you getting bullied, I don’t know, the whole thing was trippy. BUT! Based on that we could see that you were a freak, and your parents hated you, and your siblings hated you which again brings me to… How you got your PhD’s… Obviously your parents didn’t pay for all that. Though I guess it answers why you hang around kids, and I didn’t need to investigate at all, but then how else would I have found out my name sounds like a butt… Anyways clearly you hang out with children because you finally have the love and admiration that from people that age when you were that age. So it’s like your reliving your childhood only in a different way. Yeah I have a doctorate in psychology now, no big deal. How else could you explain the oddness of your life. It’s funny though, even your beloved Oz was making fun of you, I guess it never ends does it? Your losing streak that Oz and you talked about, will continue. You sound quite depressed about the fact that you keep losing, about how you’re already at rock bottom. Well that may be true, but the part where you said the only place to go is up? Well that’s not true, you can stay at a consistent failure for the rest of you career as well, and based on your poor demeanor that does seem to be likely. I never get sad, all I got to do is just look in the mirror and remember, oh yeah! I’m Ahren Fuckin Fournier! That’s how I deal with adversity in my life. I just remember how much better I am in every facet in my life than everyone else, and I can put a smile on my face. While you? You remember how shitty everything in your life has been, and how it’s only gotten worse, so exactly where is your motivation? A failed son, a failed sibling, a failed doctor, a failed wrestler, and honestly I don’t know how good of a wrestler you are seeing the one time we faced off you didn’t win. Neither did I, but again I am Ahren Fournier, and I always bounce back better than ever. And I’ll start with you Bone Maero… I think that’s how you pronounce your name, honestly don’t know if i’ve been saying it right this whole time… Anyways.. Ending line.. Here.. Yeah, I don’t know how to end this.. So, IMMA BEAT YA.. BOOM!

 

(Camera fades to black)

You either push or pull in this industry.. It’s impossible to do both at the same time. That’s a constant pattern that actually coordinates with the fact that it’s either on the offensive side of things, or the defensive side of things.. Never both. Pick and choose.. Live or die. I can argue that I’m bigger than the mass thinks I am until I’m blue in the face but there’d be no point. You simply cannot wave your hand as if it was a magic wand and persuade the almighty opinion. Knowledge based off what you can see, or a simple guess and hope for the best is the usual tactics that you see elitists using in our company. It reminds me of similar methods in the stock market, the trend lines, the resist and attack, the so very simple hypothesis based off of the recent weeks trends that could help you predict the futures outcome.. But it’s never for certain. It’s never guaranteed.. Just like you having this conversation with me once before on the Battleground one week before I raised the New Breed Championship high for everyone to see.. And that week before I beat you. You lash out at me and do your honest best to belittle me by telling me I’m at a low.. That I’m a lackey of Zack. It doesn’t bother me.. Do you know why? I am a bad guy.. And in this time of my life, I thrive on that fact.

I’m Vlad The Impaler with the innovative set that makes my adversaries cringe on sight.

I’m the reincarnated Adolf Hitler and will annihilate an entire generation forging my own personal new world of my visions.

I’m the Alexander The Great and I’ll lead the way into battle and come out with nothing but my clothes soaked with my enemies blood.

But most importantly, I’m JJ Silva and I’m second to no man.

You act as if a gnat buzzing around the heads of rather important people trying to get your foot inside the door, Nobi.. most of them react to the annoyance and swat you away like a mosquito but i’ll pay your history no mind. When death comes to take us, we are taken alone. One by one, we’re picked off by death and ripped down into the earth—first by our souls and soon thereafter, by our bodies. This man is in the process of returning to the earth, drop by drop, bit by bit of rotting flesh. And many should envy him for that. But what they won’t envy is how forgettable this man is. He’s been lying here for days without anyone caring to call, without anyone even coming to knock at his door. No one noticed his changed attitude over recent weeks. No one in his family wrote him letters. No one. This man didn’t have to wait for death to be alone. Life proved to be just as lonely. But it isn’t anyone’s fault that he was handed a lonely life. This is just how some lives go; some people prove to be forgettable. With or without them, life moves the same way. Their impact isn’t apparent and their presence is meaningless. And even if they want to lie to themselves and say that they matter, that someone out there cares, that they’ve still got time to make a difference, they were made to be nothing but background noise to a much larger, more important symphony. What Omerta has done in this company is nothing to scoff at. Our presence here has proven to be as impactful, soon to be more impactful, than anything else that has ever been draped across this industry. And in the background are those people that kick their legs while Omerta holds them down and beats them into submission. They are the faceless victims that are made out to be examples for those who stand by and do nothing. Their names and upbringings don’t matter. What matters is that they’ve crossed us and they will be laid to rest, returned to the earth once more, just as quietly leaving as they did entering. What Nobi has done in the past with his time doesn’t concern me at all. I sat down and contemplated for a long time what I can say to this elitist that would stick to him the same way what I said to many men that stuck to them. But at the end of the day, my impact on anyone doesn’t matter. I will control the most significant part of your existence, and that has little to do with my discretion. You are a forgettable man who is just as susceptible as this man to one day be forgotten about, left decaying in your room for upwards of a week without anyone even bothering to check. The last eyes that will fall upon you belong to the reaper himself and he will look softly upon you before he takes you away. But you will mean nothing to him as you mean nothing to me or anyone else in this company. Your descent will be in silence—no celebration of your career or your limited achievements, your work ethic or your will. You will be forgotten and your memory will decay whether you are prepared for the end or not.

That's the beauty of this industry. No one in this entire company who is beginning to descend will ever admit but it's the sad truth for many guys in our era. I have no problem discussing this subject for the sheer fact that I've been at the bottom.. i scratched my way up to hold a championship and thus, I have nothing to prove to a guy like yourself. You're right.. I've been in a slump but unlike you I have the ability to get myself out of them. I've been given the opportunity to face the cream of the crop in Mr. DEDEDE while you've been facing the entire lower card.. and yet you speak lowly of me.. are you intentionally trying to make yourself out to be a complete moron? Has no one ever taught the “good guy” to respect his experienced superiors? A good guys morals are only as good as his intentions and his ability to serve those morals.. and you're at the tail end of your rope and in the moments when a man’s back is against the wall is where you truly see who they really are. I have a feeling this is all a facade.. and I intend on exposing it. My slump is nothing to be concerned about because as far as I'm concerned,

It's over.

It ain’t easy being this fetching when being this fetch fetches you the most emotionally confused people on the planet.

Everybody got fantasies about me.

Got even dudes making yaoi fan fics.

Still, didn’t know both members of Stand & Deliver swung this way.

How many nights do you people think this deranged little goblin has spent in his basement writing his long distance skype love affair stories about Drake & Jones? How many nights do you think he’s tossed and turned in bed just overcome with sweat and high body temperature thinking up all these machinations of Drake holding me by the waist as my well toned abs drives him crazy? How many times has he called me a whore while stroking himself behind my back? It’s tough for Pizza Boy, it makes me rethink all of these times he’s gone on rants about how much he wants to get his hands on me, all that rage and frustration might have been for an entirely different reason than any bad blood that we have, I never knew I made him feel so at odds with himself.

But it’s no excuse to come out here twisting your fan fictions into homophobic stabs, because why else would you think these stories about Drake & Jones would be worth telling if you didn’t think it was insulting if we had some sort of romantic affair? Not right man, this is 2016, think about your fans.

Think about little kid who just went through puberty, looking just like you not yet knowing at least he’ll grow out of it, he ain’t getting no girls, so he looks on over to his buddy at school knowing he’s got a shot for the little bit of intimacy he can get. Then his hero, his role model, comes on the screen, and that’s the kind of toxic venom you spread when he looks to you from leadership and acceptance in the world? For shame, your loser fanbase might be able to spot you grew up awkward and alone like them, but they can’t assume your lash outs are because you’re as repressed as them wanting a lil taste of fa****heaven!

And I can say that and you’ll laugh because there is a puppet on my hand, oh wait, not there isn’t, just imagine yourself on my right hand. I’m sure you’d love that, little Pinocchio Boy.

I say this because you’re a pretend human, and every time you get off your new master’s lap, be it HBB, Cyclone, Tony Rolland, or Brian Daniels, you walk these hall, long nosed and all, thinking you’ve fooled us into believing you’re an independent boy who has been liberated from his strings. Trust me, when you’re built and look like me, you get accustomed to picking out the clingers in the crowd of options you’ve got, they ooze with the disgusting aura of those who need to latch onto anyone they can find and suck the energy right out of them for as long as possible! They’re the type of people who’d feed off the energy of someone even after that person has passed away. You know the type, that celebrity trophy wife who refuses to get out of the limelight after her husband died because she JUST has to tell you how lovely he was, the friend who gets out of the shadow always rapping about his ties to more famous players in the game, and all sorts of benefactors of the fallen. You’re the Puff Daddy made into a headliner, a booyaka booyaka six one niner. Every time I cross you, you’re getting the crowd worked up mourning over some poor sap that let you be a friend, be it HBB, or now Brian Daniels, and of course big wigs upstairs know there’s money to be made by entertaining your ilk. Call me what you like, but a whore without a pimp is at least independent, the whore performs in a voluntary exchange that benefits both parties in the way that they desire, Hexa-gun, Drake, Team Crash, they all gained major gains while I made my own profits. Remember, a whore is only successful based on appeal, fetching indeed. What have HBB and Brian Daniels gotten out of your relationships aside from some runt using their demise to elevate his name in his journeys of “revenge”?

But alas, everyone already knows that. There’s a saying about what all good deeds are when looked at with an eye cold eye.

Just a cry of attention.

Post-Empire.

(Cloud is dressed in her street clothes, emptying her locker with Mao on standby. Maria Gonzalez walks up to the duo with her mic in hand.)

Maria: Stephanie Matsuda, a word?

Cloud: Yeah, shoot.

Maria: Tonight, you completed dominated in your match against Erica Ford- including a MASSIVE back body drop from outside the ring! Do you feel Azumi’s interference played a part in your victory?

Cloud: (sighs) Whether it did or not isn’t the point. The point is Maria, in war, one must be ready for anything. Back in my Sky Princess days I used to whine and complain when a match didn’t go my way. These days, I take responsibility for the outcome of my match. Erica’s problem was that she was unfocused. Now she’s somewhere in the middle of Oregon with Azumi doing only God knows what to her. (shakes her head) Getting kidnapped in Oregon...is there a fate worse than that!?

Maria: Speaking of Azumi, I saw you take a knee during the National Anthem. Was that a sign of solidarity with Colin Kaepernick? If so, I didn’t know you were an activist!

Cloud: Just because I bust heads week after week, and hate on The Sirens doesn’t mean I’m not aware of what’s going on in the world. Matter of fact, I was at a #BlackLivesMatter meeting last month. Do you see that Pink Judas out there marching? Nope! Then again, I hear she cares more about Russian politics these days…

Mao: Or poli-dick-

Cloud: (laughs) Shut yo mouth!

Mao: I can’t help it! You’re a terrible influence!

Cloud: I never said I was a hero Mao. Anyways Maria, yes I took a knee which made the Caspers and Beckys in the audience furious with me. Good. I draw strength from their hate...their salt flows through my veins! 

Mao: And if they hated that…
Cloud: They’re surely gonna hate it when I stop Haruna Sakazaki dead in her tracks in her ever botching quest for gold! I mean what makes her think she even DESERVE a title shot!? Huh!? Then again, she was always a child Maria. She’s one hell of a partner- don’t get me wrong, but as a singles competitor there’s still work that needs to be done. She’s no different than The Sirens, jumping in line when the opportunity suits them. Matter of fact, those OG Vixens pull the same shit. 

Maria: So you consider yourself to be an outsider in this battle for Empire?

(Mao and Cloud laugh)

Cloud: Maria dear...that’s the irony about all of this. I already own Empire. They just don’t know it because they have their heads up their asses! Once they’re finished destroying each other, I’m going to walk over their bodies and sit on the throne that rightfully belongs to me! And then our precious GM will have no choice but to sit there and watch as I ECLIPSE her title reign…

Maria: I see what you did there-

Cloud: No you didn’t. Because if you did, you would still have a career as a Vixen. Nobody can see me Maria, and if they claim they do, they’re only saying that because they want to avoid The Reality that dark clouds are coming to Thursday nights and when the time is right...LIGHTNING SHALL STRIKE DOWN FROM THE CLOUDS OF WAR UPON THE UNWORTHY! (shakes her head) None of them deserve shit- except maybe Sheridan. She’s the only one other than myself I would consider to be a true warrior! As for the rest...just shells of their former selves. The Vixens were once a proud group of valkyries, roaming the scorched battlefields of the Land of the Elite. Now they’re just a bunch of power hungry bimbos! And Haruna Sakazaki is the worst of them! That’s right, I haven’t forgotten about my opponent next week! She was nodding her head earlier like I’m going to be some kind of walk in the park!? (laughs) Her secret girlfriend is about to have another ex to cry over?

Maria: Her secret ex? Who is-

Cloud: None of your damn business! That’s a need to know basis! Anywho, when she walks down that aisle and take a look in my eyes...she’s going to realize that she won’t get anywhere near Claudia. And after I’m done with her, that Pokemon-playing hussie is next! There’s nobody that can stop my momentum Maria G. I can fly with the best of them. I can talk shit and knock Ruby back to Tuesdays with Morrie, or I can declare my contempt for The Sirens via a five page manifesto about how awesome I am and how much they suck just like they do. I’m getting sick of their ten minute videos about nothing! They have NOTHING to say Maria! Just like Sakazaki doesn’t have a clue in that impulsive brain of hers about how to stop me!

(yanks the mic from Maria and walks to the camera)

Cloud: Let me help you out Haruna-chan. You’re going to hop and skip your way into the ring with those stupid glowsticks of yours and the moment you enter my ring you’re going to realize you’re in a minefield. A minefield of technical skill, unbeatable brawn, and flawless agility. Each move you make will be used against you and somewhere in that head of yours while I’m busting that ass you’re going to think (Japanese accent) “Oh no! I fuck up big time! My pride broken! Cloud too strong!” You may be rich in cash and spirit Haru, but you’re poor in planning ahead! A poor girl who nobody loves...except maybe that psychotic grinning idiot of a gf...in case you haven’t realized...I know.

Maria: Know what-

Mao: SHUT UP! 

(Mao flinches and Maria jumps)

Cloud: Thank you Mao-san.

Mao: You’re welcome Steph-san-

Cloud: Sama.

Mao: (sighs) Sama.

Cloud: We’ve been through this dance before Haru, and each time ended with you trying to get over, or The Sirens pulling some bullshit. Next week you don’t have to worry because I’ll show you just how inept you are and how reliant you were on my superior tactics. Yes, you’re a team player, but my brain is what helped us win those matches. Now I could have gone easy on you...I could have talked about how awesome of a partner you are and how lucky I am to be facing you, but I know better Haruna. I know a thing or two about the DSM-V and you’re just as bipolar as they come! Those highs where you think you’re better than everyone to those lows where you threaten both career and physical suicide…(sighs) I’m not taking any chances with you sweets. You’re nothing but a sucker for pain, even in the face of overwhelming odds. That’s not bravery or pride dear...that’s just pure stupidity.

Mao: (Haruna voice) But you know nothing of bravery you coward!

Cloud: (laughs) Okay you Japanese Charlie Brown. We’ll see who misses the football next week. Oh by the way...in case you didn’t know...you just been ethered.

Mao: Dead. Ass.

(Cloud drops the mic as Maria fails to catch it, tripping over Cloud’s foot in the process.)

Cloud: Oops. My bad.

(walks away, laughing with Mao in tow.)

Cloud’s voice: (off camera) THE EMPIRE’S MINE ASSHOLES!

The world is always resolved around valuable lessons isn’t it?

It doesn’t matter if you are a good guy or a bad guy, you have to get valuable lessons in order to have better life as a person, and a better career as a wrestler.

The Philly Kid is a good guy. He's a very lovable guy. The fans loves him and he loves them back. The Philly Kid is someone who's proud of being himself. He accepts everything that God has given to him. He's very proud of his root and he's very proud of his body. The Philly Kid is just someone that I truly like. He's 100% a good guy. It was suck that I had to beat him in order to win the match. It was suck that Cody Marshall had to ruin our match. I’m not going to lie that I didn’t see Cody distracting The Philly Kid because in reality I did. Why did I choose to hit him with a lariat when he wasn’t ready? It’s because he made a same mistake like I did earlier in my career. I could have beaten Carson Ramsay and becoming the new Pure Champion 7 months ago, but I didn’t. It’s because I let someone to distract me and getting into my head. In the end of the day, I didn’t win the Pure belt. And who knows? I might be the one who’s facing off againts Star Stan in his final match instead of Ramsay. I can’t help but feeling regrets for letting someone to distract me. I could have had more success now, I could have had a better records now, but no, I’m simply still trying to find my true identity in this company, even when Damien Murdow and Chris Elite gave me chances. It is what it is. I only have myself to blame. I don’t want The Philly Kid to suffer the same way like I do. So, I have to give him a reminder that this world is so cold. Hopefully, he gets a valuable lesson now. I’ll be more than happy to face him off once again and giving my lariat when he’s 100% focus in the ring.

Now this week, I’m facing off againts a bad guy by the name of JJ Silva. Yes Silva, you are a bad guy. You have always been a bad guy. No matter how many times you got your COUNTLESS valuable lessons you’ll still act as a bad guy. You suffered an injury in the hands of Chris Elite, you are on the losing streaks since you got drafted to Showdown, and now your babysister Zack Crash won’t be able to watch your back all the time. And last week, you failed to capture the 24/7 contract. Some bad things have happened to you in the past 3 months and yet you still act so arrogant and so gung-ho right now. You know what? You probably won’t changed anytime soon. You let your ego controlling your mind and your body. You have adopted Zack Crash’s personality, because truthfully, you are a Zack Crash’s guy. You are not your own guy, you are a Zack Crash’s guy. This week will be a very memorable day for you as you are going to face me one on one without Zack Crash’s on the locker room. How does it feel that he left you all alone high and dry now? You have always followed his orders and you always there when he needs you. But now, he already left you behind when you definitely need him. You might still have Terry Chambers on your side now, but then again, that steroid jackass is always so desperated to knock me down. He probably won’t even bothered to help you out, even if he decides to come to the ring with you. Just like him, you will be so desperated to beat me since you are having “the lame period” in your pathetic life. Don’t worry though, I’ll be more than capable enough to give you a valuable lesson that you will never forget. Just like any bad guys I have crushed in the past, I’m going to turn you from Zack Crash’s bitch into my bitch. I’m going to make you beg for fucking mercy.

Showdown Promo #3

Spaghetti Western: The Soup, The Salad, and the Breadsticks

"You're such a self-contradicting hypocrite Jones."

The camera opens on a beautiful desert sunset on the horizon as the silhouette of a pizza delivery car comes into view.  It's 'Bo & Tye's Pizzeria' top light turns on, cuing the whistling whispers of Ennio Morricone's "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly theme".  A shadowy figure carrying a pizza box in one hand appears against the pink and orange backdrop.

"You love an advantage, but only if it's in your favor.  You love taking credit for putting HBB in a retirement home, but only when it suits your argument.  We both know it's not true anyway.  You're right.  The powers that be have played a hand and our solitude here on Showdown.  The difference is that I don't need the leg up.  If anything, having someone on my side continues to serve as a distraction.  Then again, I wouldn't be in this match if it weren't for Brian's unfortunate fate.  I don't need the Answer's Championship. I do however lust over the opportunity to get my hands on you once more.  I wonder what your excuse will be this time when I beat you fair and square.  You've certainly talked yourself in a hole, trying to butter me up before the beating by claiming we're on the same level and the only worthwhile talents on Showdown.  I don't think that's true.  You and I are on two different channels entirely.  I'm ESPN, which is the mainstream sports, and you're little league tee ball way over on ESPN 7.  Just a childish whiner crying over the dirt in your eye after going in for the illegal slide.  You really resent me wrapping you on the knuckles, don't you?  Not enough to change as a human being, but enough to keep trying your damnedest to get under my skin.  You're fighting a battle you can't win Tiberius. Not like this anyway, not alone, not when it's just you and me in that squared circle with nothing to hold me down or back from getting at your throat."

A house appears in front of PB's shadow as the whippoorwill and rattle of Morricone's masterpiece slows as Pizza Boy grows closer to his destination.

"That's what you're really afraid of isn't it?; an even playing field with no distractions or blackmail.  Tony isn't here to threaten bodily harm, and Drake's got his own problems elsewhere.  I know you keep in touch on weekends, skyping, trying to do the whole 'long distance' thing, but you both know it'll never last that way.  As long as the two of you are apart, the magic is gone.  You can dress it up how you'd like.  Call it being a soldier of fortune, call it being a mercenary for hire, but all I see is a man whose ran out of excuses and human shields to hide behind.  There's nothing cool or noble about it.  It amounts to prostitution in the long run.  You come to the aid of the highest bidder, you fulfill a service for a price, and then you leave without any hard feelings.  You're a whore Jones.  Plain and simple.  Whether it's J-Dynasty, HexaGun, Crash, Omerta, or Judas tricking you out, it still boils down to you playing chambermaid to a bunch of guys who inevitably screw you over and leave in the end.  Maybe that's why we're really having this match.  Maybe Big Daddy Vendetta dropped a few bills for you to fuck me out of this Answer's Championship shot.  It certainly fits your M.O. You do tend to get around town you saucy lecher you.  Well I'm not interested in any two-bit whore's attention.  As a matter of fact, you may as well consider this a sting operation because I'm taking you out of commission come Showdown, and then I'm off to get some justice for Brian against Vendetta."

A light inside the shadowy house flips on in the window as PB reaches the door.  It swings open, PB hands off the pizza, gets his cash, and heads back toward the car as the afternoon sky begins to turn purple and faint celestial bodies begin to freckle the skyline.

"And you can mock my EAW National Championship all you want.  I have gold around my waist and it's going to be joined by it's brother very soon.  What do you have to show for all of your misdeeds? all of your shortcuts? all of your master plans and Godly intelligent design? I don't see tag titles.  I don't see singles gold.  At this point you don't even have Drake's arms to wrap around you like a security blanket."

PB reaches his car just as the sky turns to night and the moon and stars start to come out in full force.  He opens the door and hops into the cab.  The top light turns off as the headlights turn on.  The red brake lights illuminate as the delivery car starts to back out.

"Putting this all together I've come to the conclusion that you not only fear me, but you also envy me.  You envy my success.  You envy the company I've kept.  You envy my work ethic and how far it's gotten me and you're afraid that you wont be able to overcome it all by your lonesome.  Is Tiberius Jones enough? Is he skilled enough? strong enough? passionate enough to get the job done on his own? I don't think so.  You hav no desire.  You have no true loyalty or love inside of you.  You have no confidence in your own abilities, and without those key ingredients you lack passion.  Nothing matters to a man who sees an award, an achievement, a testament to his abilities as nothing more than some gold to scrap.  All you own is fear and lust."

The car pulls off screen, illuminating the house with Pizza Boy's brights as he pulls out, only to leave it in darkness mere moments later.  As the car's presence fully disappears from the screen, the iconic movie track fades and the camera feed cuts to black.

"And that is why you are Donald Trump...ppfhahahahaha.  Cut, cut, cu-"

Have you ever heard of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs? Maslow's hierarchy of needs was a theory in psychology proposed in 1943 by a man of the same name, Abraham Maslow. He originally suggested this idea of his in a paper titled "A Theory of Human Motivation" and subsequently expanded on his theory to include his examinations of the human psyche and their natural curiosity. His hypothesis, however, could be simply explained with but a few words, from the most basic to most elaborate: Physiological, Safety, Love & Belonging, Esteem and Self-Actualization.

Physiological needs are the physical requirements for human survival. If these requirements are not met, the human body cannot function properly and will ultimately fail. These needs are thought to be the most important; they should be met first.

Once a person's physical safety needs are relatively satisfied, their safety needs take precedence and dominate their behavior. In the absence of physical safety whether that be due to war, natural disaster, family violence, childhood abuse or any other traumatic event that may have occurred, people have been known to become victims post-traumatic stress disorder or transgenerational trauma. In the absence of economic safety – due to economic crisis and lack of work opportunities – these safety needs manifest themselves in ways such as a preference for job security, grievance procedures for protecting the individual from ordeals such as unilateral authority, savings accounts, insurance policies, disability accommodations. This level is more likely to be found in children as they generally have a greater need to feel safe, however, it has still been found in adults on multiple occasions.

After physiological and safety needs are fulfilled, the third level of human needs is interpersonal and involves feelings of belongingness. This need is especially strong in childhood and can override the need for safety as witnessed in children who cling to abusive parents and friends. The reason for this, according to Maslow, is because humans need to feel a sense of belonging and acceptance among their social groups, regardless whether these groups are large or small and that is something that, in the grand scheme of the human brain, is seen as much more important than simply being safe.

Then, of course, we have esteem. All humans have a need to feel respected; this includes the need to have self-esteem and self-respect. Esteem presents the typical human desire to be accepted and valued by others. People often engage in a profession or hobby to gain recognition. These activities give the person a sense of contribution or value. Low self-esteem or an inferiority complex may result from imbalances during this level in the hierarchy. People with low self-esteem often need respect from others; they may feel the need to seek fame or glory. However, fame or glory will not help the person to build their self-esteem until they accept who they are internally. Psychological imbalances such as depression can hinder the person from obtaining a higher level of self-esteem or self-respect.

Most people have a need for stable self-respect and self-esteem. Maslow noted two versions of esteem needs: a "lower” version and a "higher" version. The lower version of esteem is the need for respect from others. This may include a need for status, recognition, fame, prestige, and attention. The higher version manifests itself as the need for self-respect. For example, the person may have a need for strength, competence, self-confidence, independence, freedom. This higher version takes precedence over the lower version because it relies on an inner competence established through experience. Deprivation of these needs may lead to an inferiority complex, weakness, and helplessness.

Maslow states that while he originally thought the needs of humans had strict guidelines, he later stated that the “hierarchies are interrelated rather than sharply separated". This means that esteem and the subsequent levels are not strictly separated; instead, the levels are closely related.

"What a man can be, he must be." This quotation forms the basis of the perceived need for self-actualization. This level of need refers to what a person's full potential is and the realization of that potential. Maslow describes this level as the desire to accomplish everything that one can, to become the most that one can be. Maslow believed that to understand this level of need, the person must not only achieve the previous needs, but master them

Now while this is all rather interesting… I’m sure you’re all wondering what this has to do with this Sunday and, honestly, you’d be quite shocked at just how much this one theory, this one ideology relates to Kenny Drake. During my trials and tribulations upon returning to Voltage, I knew that simply defeating opponent after opponent wasn’t going to be enough. During my time in EAW I’ve learned that simply fighting your way to the top will never be enough. You need to know your enemies and your allies alike. You have to be aware of their strengths, their weakness, what makes them tick. All of this is important information for when you step in the ring with them and it’s something that should never be forgotten. A little someone who managed to catch my eye was none other than you, Kenny Drake. During this seemingly nonsensical rivalry you have with Carson Ramsay, I made sure to watch you. I wanted to see how your mind works, how you would go about defeating Carson Ramsay and what that would mean to you.

Then you lost.

You might disagree with that, though. I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself “but I won! I pinned Carson Ramsay!” and that might be true. At Territorial Invasion you may have had your arm raised as the victor but that was only the beginning. You see, up until last week Carson Ramsay couldn’t give a damn about you. Sure, Wolvesden was and is still a thorn in his side but ultimately his only goal was victory. He was going to beat you, beat JD Damon, beat whoever else stood in his way, then move on to bigger and better things but then you went and poked the bear, didn’t you? In what could only be described as disgust, you knew you had to take it that one step further. Why? I’ll tell you why: You crave the attention. You need all eyes on you. At first it was little quirks that you had and that was enough to quench your thirst. People enjoyed watching you, they laughed together and couldn’t wait to see you on their TV screens but after a while you started to get stale. Eventually the same old jokes and the same old quirks got exactly that: OLD. People were growing tired of you so you started to try and up your game. After all, you wanted to stay fresh and exciting. Again, that wasn’t enough. You keep trying. Still not enough. Pretty soon after that, you broke. You couldn’t take not being in the limelight anymore so who do you turn to? Your best friend, of course, and you stabbed him in the back because you knew that while you continued to fail and flounder on Voltage, Carson Ramsay was still climbing his way up the ladder and he surpassed you, didn’t he? I bet you really, REALLY didn’t like that.

Remember Maslow’s theory? “All humans have a need to feel respected”. You just didn’t feel respected anymore. You thought that Carson Ramsay was leaving you behind in the dirt so you had to drag him back in said dirt to try and gain that edge you once had. That need of respect and attention that you had was fading away so you did everything in your power to bring it back… but all it’s doing is causing more and more damage as the days go by, Kenny.

Through one simple betrayal you’ve destroyed your psyche even further because guess what?

NOW YOU DON’T FEEL SAFE.

You’ve surrounded yourself with these masked men as a part of Wolvesden because you fear what Carson Ramsay might do. Why else would you go to Carson Ramsay’s home all the way in Nevada while he was booked in Chicago of all places? Hmm? It takes more than a whole day just to drive there so you knew you’d be safe there, right? You planned this all ahead of time because there was no way Carson Ramsay could defend his poor sister from your sick mind games but we all know that safety only lasts so long. So naturally, the next phase is to bring more henchmen with you and taunt Carson but I look at this and think, what happens if while all of this is going on, Damon starts to become the one to steal your spotlight? What if while you’re too busy with Ramsay that you miss him winning big and your new best friend surpasses you just like your old one did? Are you going to stab him in the back too? Is that it? Is that your big plan when all of this fails miserably? Better yet, what if Damon follows in your footsteps and he uses the same knife you stuck in Carson’s back to stick in yours? Now that’d be poetic justice if I’d ever seen it.

Until that day comes, you continue to play these mind games to try and get Carson Ramsay to care about you and, while it may have worked on these people, sooner or later they’re going to see through the cracks in this brick wall you’ve tried to protect yourself with… and when they do, you’re going to come to the bottom of your bag of tricks.

You’ll be left with no safety, no esteem, no feeling of belonging, definitely no self-actualization, NOTHING. When you’re left with nothing, you break. You lose control. Your mind, your thoughts, they start to mean less and less the further you fall into the cesspit and eventually there’s no escape from your fate. You’re done. Game over. That’s it.

That’s a pretty frightening thought because, let’s face it, physically, you’re not doing too well for yourself already. Territorial Invasion left you beaten and battered so you’re already running low on lives. You’ve set yourself on this path that’s going to take a lot of backtracking to turn away from but you’re not going to be able to backtrack far enough, not this time. You’ve finally caught Carson Ramsay’s attention and now he’s going to be hunting you, looking for any opportunity to send you to that very abyss and it’s going to take a lot more than an apology to make him stop. In fact, I don’t think he’ll ever stop.

If I were being honest with you? I’d say that you’re royally fucked, Kenny.

...Which brings us to me.

I’ve been broken, Kenny, both mentally and physically, so I know what it takes to come back from that kind of destruction. I’ve stared into the abyss and somehow, some way, I found my escape and I’m back here in EAW with a newfound energy but that’s not something just any man is capable of. I know for a fact that you… you just don’t have it in you and, you know, I could tell you exactly what it would take for me to send you to that very same place. I could put you through that pain and suffering and give you the punishment that you deserve but I don’t need to do that. I just need to beat you…

Because I already know that Carson is going to kill you.