Here you are, as a bird alright, but only as one singing in circles. Repeating the process of your words of a different tune. The audacity you showcase Tyler Parker is really second to none. You really think you can continue making these assumptions when you continue to bring that same tiring substance? Please, you couldn't manufacture the silver lining the time before, what thought seizes you to now? How many times do you have to sing the tune to your own song before you start living within the gospel? Twice, apparently. For you did not change from the last time you and Lannister spoke, being a slave to your own misguidance and seething in negligent arrogance. But do, continue on, waste your time singing how you are the one that is relentless, or whatever it is in your mind that copes with desperate cries. Lannister has obviously made you a drone of reaction, as you can't seem to fabricate your own claims in this war of words. Just a mimic to every last detail Lannister provides, proclaiming it yourself, taking the source and failing to cite it. Lannister thought there was more to you Parker, Lannister expected more. But it just becoming ever so apparent that you live within the confines of your own bubble, the comfort zone in which you can't escape. Perhaps that is why you have leveled out in your status, and seek a victory at Territorial Invasion as if it is your life or death. Perhaps it is to the perception that Tyler Parker is still a man to be revered. But Lannister thinks that the EAW world has already moved on, and the likes of Nico Borg and the Pizza Boy are the new flavors to try out. You can't come to grips with it, and it is rotting you to the core. Now you are taking any means necessary to relent on this built-up frustration, and it just so happens that Lannister is the only one willing to tell it to you true. You've been replaced, Tyler Parker. Look around, look inside even if you must, and face the blunt truth that War Games is the declaration of EAW's independence from needing to rely on Tyler Parker for its marketing gains. And you don't have it in you to justify the fight required to prove the land of EAW wrong. You continue to deny that you are a man of shadows, but how can that be so when that's all that remains? You have been stripped of all your glory, and it won't be long before the remnants of it fade once and for all. Whatever hate, whatever anger you engage with at Territorial Invasion, will only be out of your lust for envy. You actually think you have the means to impose your will when you can't even impose better intentions on yourself. But go right ahead, throw your stones and deem your own words true. But Lannister knows to his very core, that any intention you wish to shine through at Territorial Invasion, is sourced from your state of fear. You claim Lannister wounded, yet it is you that has had trouble coping with your very downfall. You claim Lannister thirsty for blood, when that's all you are consumed by. You claim Lannister angry that he has lost his kingdom, yet it is Tyler Parker who has lost his royal pardon and status. Anything you accuse Lannister of, the verdict laughs back at you in the mirror as guilty as charged. Lannister's echoing confidence is a concept you enviously wish you could enjoy again - as it reminds you of simpler times. When you could actually back the words you claim, when Tyler Parker was a force to be reckoned with. No, Lannister won't care to improvise and state that he has found his way under your skin, but he won't deny the claim, either. How else is there to represent what is true, the absolution in it all? Tyler Parker wishes to leave all the action in the ring, but since he no longer has a reason to pride himself on, he succumbs to the pettiness of his words.

But let's take the tone of your words and spit them right back in your face, as if it wasn't an insult enough to know that's all you have in these dawn of days. For you obviously have become a man tortured by assumptions, tortured by your own clouded judgment. There isn't a bullet to your words that could hope to gaze the targets you aim down. Once more, you follow the leader - and leave yourself breathless of merit behind the words you spiel, a common trait found in Team Ryder. You obviously haven't done your homework, for you obviously do not know the perimeters in which you speak. The fantasy that you speak of, pinning Lannister to showcase your supremacy is a laughable gesture. One that buck-shots in a multitude of flaws. For one, how amusing it is to see you get yourself so riled up on just the thought of this fantasy, as if it is your Pain For Pride moment. The hypocrisy in it all, how Lannister is this "next man up" to you - yet you seem so intent on shadowing your supremacy over him. The pity in your words, for they continue to turn among the source. But it just doesn't stop there, because this is WAR GAMES, where the only means to eliminating Lannister is to make him submit and quit, not to pin. Sorry that the shock and awe of it all is coming so sudden, for your mind must now realize you no longer have the cop-out of an opportunistic victory of triumph. No, you actually have to work for this one. It would only be for your fortune that measly pinning Lannister was in the deck of the cards, but alas, that is not to be at your disposal. But maybe you acquire the line of thinking where simply pinning somebody to the mat is actually an example of superiority. Once again showing the shades of a man who has no perspective of it all. You simply beat your opponents, Lannister has conquered his. HE is the one that leaves the lasting mark, etching Lannister's will into their mind-frame. Lannister may have fallen to Ares Vendetta in recent memory, but don't think for a second that the bastard of Vendetta wouldn't want the roles reversed. For it is Lannister that has etched the only humbling shame Ares Vendetta has come to know - something in which you couldn't provide. Lannister branded his own name onto the bastard's body, suffice enough of a reminder to let the world know what happens when you cross Lannister's path. But you, Tyler Parker, you surely haven't had the same fortune against Ares Vendetta, so how your qualms continue to fall upon itself. Tyler Parker succumbed to Ares Vendetta's will, conquered even. And when Ares pinned Lannister for the three count, it was just that, a three count. A perspective of the mind that leaves Lannister knowing the only drawback was not having a championship to bear. So while Lannister has been beaten, perhaps even humbled - never has he been conquered. Never has he submitted to the will of another in this industry. If only you could say the same, Tyler Parker. If only then, could Lannister believe the source of your words. Because they're just coming across as a desperate means to cope with the fundamental idea that you for once are not the alpha to chase down. Your words fail to pierce the skin of Lannister, as your bullets have obviously been too long for the chamber. Your means are outdated, and for it, you actually come to believe that you can leave anything more than a caption in Lannister's history book. There isn't going to be a chapter about you, Parker, because unlike the feeble mind of yours, Lannister doesn't hold a vendetta against those that oppose. You have your reasons - Lannister resides within his, but after this, you won't mean a damn thing to Lannister, much like it was before.

So go right ahead, Parker, crave this victory, and seek solidarity and serenity within it. But you will only disappoint yourself by the conclusion of it all. Because you are setting yourself up to fail when Lannister is the only one speaking realistically about his intentions. And even if you were to fulfill such a fantastical-ridden dream, there is nowhere for you to go from here. The moment you live in, shall continuously drag you under. But that is exactly why you should take comfort in this storm that Lannister has set coming, for it can overcome your drawbacks of set irrelevancy just this once. You've been burning out in the distance, but at Territorial Invasion, the whole world gets to see the prideful wear his crown of illusion this final time. The master in his own mind, finally seeing himself as the slave to it all. Nothing but phantom voices to be heard now, Parker, so take it in good measure that Lannister can help liberate you from this false perception. Lannister just oozes confidence, while licking his chops at what he sees across the battlefield, knowing exactly what lies within the fragile minds. For these are a series of men who must submit to the will of their own failures, for as often as they breed the lie that Lannister lives within his. Or even suggest that the confidence Lannister exhales is from the kingdom that is now long gone. Sulfuric Acid-like minds, if they're so quick to imply that history's forgotten chord is enough reason to define the downfall that is Lannister. But Lannister wouldn't expect such feeble minds to understand the concept of it all, as these men will always be subject to their own decadence. But that is exactly why Lannister proves as the manufacturing coding layer that Team Ryder just won't be able crack. The archive of it all can still live within your own mind, but now it is time to embark on the new face of triumph. Lannister has neither submitted to his defeats, nor become an echo to his own prosperity. The seed of Lannister is forever ascending, requiring a maturation process that forges well beyond the attainment of lost time. And Territorial Invasion is just the next footnote in Lannister's history book. Wistfully, for team Ryder - they become the embodiment of this caption. But have no fear, eventually time shall heal this wound, as gloomily enough you all will have to move on. The time to dwell is an emotion Lannister ceases to understand. Nor the content level of ones own pillar of success, as it just leads to the ragging of your own riches.

Which leads Lannister to the lecture that was Ryan Marx' decree. How nice it was to see you, Ryan, withdrawn from your own sanctuary of silence. Why so hesitant to speak up when there is a source of merit behind your words? For truth be told, you laid down the hammer with your enlightenment, at least when it came to picking apart the flaws of Lannister's cabinet members he calls allies in this war. But it's just so hard to take into consideration your bantering when it comes to the jests made Lannister's way, for you glaringly need to re-align your claims. Perhaps Lannister could take this uprising of yours much more seriously if you weren't so eager to ride the coattails of your peers on the chariot of stardom and recognition. But that's exactly what is going on here, isn't it? Why else would you glimmer with pride when speaking about Matt Ryder's cause. Just listen to the thunder in your voice! Embarking on new endeavors, that you are, aligning yourself with men who are pioneering the path to the dawn of a new era! Except, only, there is an evident source that rings with the picture you've painted. You are following the battle-lines of a man whose biggest marquee success was that of a half decade ago. Unless you know something Lannister doesn't, you cannot possibly tell Lannister that Matt Ryder is the concealed symbol to the next generation of stars. You obviously need to enlighten yourself in the matters of your bias, because the miscalculation of your judgment is a mistake in which you cannot come to repeat.

But by all means, Ryan, believe the guarded lies you have told yourself, and continue to spread this as an ulterior motive as to why you loyally stand behind your team. Lannister cares not for why you reside on that side of the battlefield, only other than to the fact that is the one that opposes his. But do not tempt for a second, that you can camouflage your intentions in a shade of another. You are as cut and dry as they come, forsaking the testaments of time just to fit the narrative of your own. You may think that time is not of the essence, but for it is - especially when you yourself realize that this is just the spark you need. Lannister gave reference to it before, but how exactly do you expect to be the new uprising when you depend on the glory of the old guard? Tyler Parker is no spring chicken, and Matt Ryder actually even less of one. Chris Elite is an ancient fossil himself, all the while Lioncross is processing himself through the second time he's made his name well known. You are actually the outlier of the team you represent, and how it is to the contrary of which you perceived. Lannister and Tiberius Jones actually happen to be the embodiment of laying waste to the empires in which EAW was founded upon, with the hands of our very future. Or are you perhaps at the misconception that all because the stature of the men standing before you tower before all, that they do not resonate the same alignment as you?

So masked in your tomorrow, is the lie you've dug yourself into. You cling onto new horizons, yet you have been so eager and willing to be sounded out. Not exactly the recipe of success to becoming your own pioneer. But go right ahead - delve into your ideals, mock the willingness for Lannister to boast his claims. Embrace this miscalculation you have made for yourself, Ryan - and let the mistake bleed through and through. Every little cut runs deep, but how this deafens when you've proven to be a lost prophet, yourself. So for this reason alone, it actually comes to make sense that you found solace in the dominion of the company that you keep. But you are no inauguration of the era that defines new. You are just the silhouette of man that took the wrong step, at the wrong essence of time. A petty, no less, for you are perhaps the only soul of that union that isn't just floating through the course of motivations. There's actually a fire underneath your breath, the same one that Lannister roars behind his. Usually, this probably serves as your salvation - but for now it'll be your undoing. Your indictment. Let Territorial Invasion serve as the deliverance of Lannister's will, commencing forth. You are no slayer of kings, Ryan Marx. You're nothing more than the representation of a rogue empire, thieving and compensating on the stature of those around you. How you seek those thrills of perception, the manifestation of your holy perception. But the only perspective EAW is going to be seeing you through is that of yet another fallen challenger who thought they could match the might of the one they call Lannister. You can have your fables of eminence - but it will be Lannister's supremacy that leaves it to shambles.

Lannister sends you his deepest regards.

 
 
 
 
 

(Black Sven is in a bar with his back to the camera, his phone starts to ring and he answers it)

Black Sven: Oui?

Phone: *Mumble, mumble, mumble*

Black Sven: Oui!

Phone: *Mumble, mumble, mumble*

Black Sven: What? A match?

Phone: *Mumble, mumble, muble*

Black Sven: A camera? Here?

Phone: *Mumble, mumble, mumble*

Black Sven: Now you listen closely to me. Since I signed that contract you didn't even want me to see me when I wanted to talk to you!

Phone:...

Black Sven: He closed!

(Black Sven looks beside his shoulder and see the camera, he then turns his whole body to be in front of the camera)

A plan can change. Depending on what happens over time. I guess plans had to change. Because now! I am going to be part of the Territorial Inavsion card, more exactly the Hardcore Invitationa! In all honestly I never liked this type of match. But there is a bright side to it all. That begin that there is more pain to be made, more people that will scream and quite honestly that is the only good thing. This kind of match forces you to try and know everything that is happening around you. But no one will ever be able to do that with so many people in the ring at the same time.

First I want to adress Marco Fedor. Now this match had reached his highest point in that Hardcore Elimination match. But he is soft and gentle, and in matches like this, where ultra-violence is the only option you have to winning, begin soft only makes you weak! But I do no consider you a coward. This kind of match isn't made for everyone! You try to prove that you are a tactician in the ring, but in this kind of situations, there is more than tactics. There is blinding rage, there is lust for a blood! A lust for a blood orgy! No David complex can help you, there is no Goliath bigger then fear it's self, fear of bleeding! Fear of losing! Fear of getting hurt! I can understand that most people consider Marco someone that will do big things in this company! Someone that has the heart to prove it! But I stand here saying that no amount of heart will ever save you as long as you like to play it safe.

It's a fact! The very ring we will fight on has seen more blood and more broken bones than you might even consider! But no one will target you to ruin your dreams. In this situation everybody is a target and the weak are the first to fall. This is an instinct formed ever since the creation of the Animal Kingdom, the weak are the first to fall. Those that are fit to survive will survive no matter the condition and those that are not will only die. And you are the weakest link in this match, your lack of confidence is only part of your undoing! The idea that you had to go on Youtube and find motivation there rather than in yourself makes me even wonder why everyone looks at you and thinks that you are a young wrestler that has a heart for this job. I sometimes am blinded by the act EAW is trying to put up and even  consider myself that. But then I wake up and realise that everything is just another play, that there are so many people that follow the same blueprint as you. It's not even fun to look at it from that perspectiv! But someone has to do it, someone has to talk about it, and since everyone is to busy begin cogs, I will have to do it. And from that we see that no amount of heart a blueprint can make you have is enough to stand in hardcore matches when you are weak

(Black Sven reaches to the bar and grabs a bottle of Tuborg, he opens it with his teeth and then takes a long drink from it, after he finishes the bottle he puts it besides him)

Should I have taken the label down? To bad, I guess Turborg will have to sue EAW, nothing like some little controversy. Now the other man I want to talk about is Ahren Fournier. I have never seen a man to represent the cocky arrogant blueprint that EAW made like him. Made to brash, annoying, loud and pretty much everything you would hate in someone to work with. This blueprint that they have molded this man, is what they used for other people in the past. Cyclone, Hawk, Anderson, and the list can go on! This is the kind of blueprint that is used on almost each new wrestler that comes in this company, some go big others seem to became dull, and all that seems to a one ticket to the realse station. With a man like this words, no matter how inteligent, they mean nothing in the end. This type of blueprint is made of such nature that it wears it's own bubble to protect it's self from the world.

This might work, but for this kind of people, realilty hitting is the worse nigthmare. To see yourself lost, seeing that all that you built yourself upon stands on pillars of salt and sand is devasting! It breaks them down and from that point they can either become more arrogant or change for the worse. And to break them to that point, you don't need words or facts, you need the right arm to beat him down until reaility checks in on him! In a way he is the opposit to Marco, but while one lacks confidence to win a match this guy has to much of it. The method reamins the same in the end, one good beating and reailty hits like a ton of bricks! And why wouldn't it hit hard like that? In the end having too much confidence or too little is exactly the same when everything comes crumbling down on you. It just hurts like hell

(Black Sven goes to grab another Tuborg that he opens with his teeth, this time he only takes a sip out of it)

Keelan Cetinich...From all this match you are the most interesting one. Because I know what blueprint you represent, but this whole "friendly veteran" idea makes me wonder. Mostly because I have seen it before and I know that is only a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Tick...tock...tick...tock until it all goes boom. That is you Cetinich! And you know the funny part, I have seen it some many times that I am not scared of it! Like I told Damon last week, I am not scared of him, or his Wolvesden and neither am I scared of you, Cetinich, and what you might explode into.  While you where talking about me I see that my actions brought me some respect, which is quite enjoyable to hear.

But do not consider that we are the same, we are very very different! Like A square and a circle. Going the hardcore mile isn't hard for anyone, it depends on your nature, but you saw what I did to those soldiers, you saw it the moment that arm broke what I am capable of doing. And I feel no regret and no remorse for what I have done. And neither am I scared of this match or the people in it. I am simply not affraid of what is to come! I am not afraind of anyone in this match, not even of you! And how could I fear somebody! Anybody! When my mission forces me to not only go the hardcore mile but to go beyond any limits this company has seen since it's inception as Extreme Answerz Wrestling! I stand in front of you, not a soldier or a prophet but a man with an idea! And that idea is far more powerful than any chair or hammer. So bring your worse and see how I will endure it all and give it back to you ten times stronger!

(Black Sven takes anothe sip from the beer)

Next on the list we have Winterborn. I have defeated this man in the best way possible, I have put an halt to his revolution. He seems to be more a man of social media than a fighter. So I have to ask myself why is this man in this match? He tweets about the body bags that will lay after this match, how he will win and how great he is! But I think I have proven that week when I defeated him, that he isn't this terrible eater of worlds. He isn't this next great revolutionary that will earn his respect. A revolution to earn respects is the dumbest reason to start a revolution! How much has your ego driven you to the point of insanity to start a revolution not from an idea, but from your own self centered interes. Indeed most revolutions along the world ended with power hungry dictatores, but that only because the idea permited them that. They had a following that followed blindly into everything those dictatores presented as the supreme idea.

But you lack the follwing, you lack the idea. You want respect? Well earn it first and formost! Put your arms to work and earn that respect that you so craven for. You want it no matter the cost? Well then here I am, not scared of you, thinking you don't deserve respect. What will you do? Tell me? Prove me you can earn respect from me? Then again you prove that night that you are can't earn anything. And about not earning anything. How was your segement? People where waiting for it! It was presented as your moment to get heat up! But when it was supposed to come...commercial break? Did you finally realised that you are just another cog in the machine? That you have no right to demeand respect? It doesn't matter any way.

(Black Sven takes a sip from his beer once more)

Maero...another chance to tango! Isn't it wonderful? Last time we didn't have the right rules to make this bloody tango more enjoyable. But now, things have changed! It's a shame, quite a pity in fact that I get my hands on you in this conditions, but never the less I make due with what I have. By the way I hope your shopping trip with that creature ended well. I hope you bought yourself a lot of weapons, because I'll want my share of those. Don't worry I'll give them back to you...one hit...two hits, I'll give them back in a brutal but enjoyable manner...well enjoyable for me that is. I know now that I am talking about a psycho...a psycho that seems to have turned his losing streak around for a match or two, but it won't grow to be a winning streak while I'm around to mess with his joy.

Now Maero, do you still stand with The Sanatorium? I guess to this day you are part of their group! Even standing here like an orfan child in Voltage, while your relatives are on Dynasty having all the fun. While your types has existed before I have never seen it...so far away for his "family", interesting as that may sound I find it that there is nothing different. At least you have that creature with you all around, honestly if it would start low blowing people in the ring that would be no surprise to me! But that aside, it was really interesting to see you force your way into this match, more intersting was the fact that Carlos accepted only to make you leave, you really seem like an unwanted child in this company! With the embrace of it all, you are the cog that is far away and it only moves by it's self from time to time. Another part of the machine, but a part stuck where he shouldn't be!

(Black Sven puts the beer on the table and a sinister grin sharpens his face)

I really didn't want to be in this match in the first place. But a certain someone...decided he will join it so every disgust I had for this match kind of moved away. Damon, we meet once again. Remember when I told I am not scared of you? I have proven that! I made my statement clear! And your "army" coming in and trying to save you...proved me once again right. Tell me Damon, how many more people do you want to sacrifce? I couldn't care less about who you send to get their arms broken. But what does that make you? Standing there sending people at me like pigs to the slaughterhouse? It doesn't make you a butcher, it doesn't make you a man or a wrestler. It only makes you a coward! You could care less about that. But tell what kind of wolf is a coward? One that will die quickly! And one by one, I'm going to kill another wolf, one by one I'm going to beat the Wolvesden down until it there will be no more wolves to lay claim to this land.

Damon, you just made an enemy out of the wrong person. Because I will hunt every single fucking wolf you have in that pack of yours until I will reach you! And then with one swift bullet you will be wolf no more! The fact that I get another chance to get my hands on you again make the whole discomfort of woking this event. Now you bastard might come with your "army" again, but this time around not only will I break another arm or two, you won't have the advantage of the numbers. Hopefully unless everybody in this match decides to become a Wolf...then there will be more pigs to the butcher. I'll massacre every single wolf that will dare to be in front of my gun and bullet after bullter I'll turn this entire match into a blood orgy! And you will see those pools of blood and you be smiling like you where last Voltage when your turn will come next!

Before leaving this place I want to say that this match is nothing more than a filler match. A match where we are forced to make another match on the card, giving a prize as something to get us more pumped for this match. In the end we are used as monkeys in a circus, put into a ring forced to throw pies and bananas at each other. Forced to make stunts only for the pleasure of those watching. Fine. I will play this game! Not because I want to win, but because I want to make sure I do the most damage to the people in this match, to make sure that my mission is one step closer to it's final point. I know that losing is an option that is spread equally in this match, and I accept it with open arms because what I plan for this match is far more imporant than anything else. I am not scared of my opponents or of the pain that this match might bring. Because I will turn everything back at my opponents. And in the end...I might lose, but if I can keep Damon from winning, how fun would that be!

(The camera fades to black as Black Sven turns around to the bar)

Revel in victory? Victory you say? Victory is such a strong word Aren. You could say something more like say um...well you don’t really have anything to celebrate Aren, other than the fact that I haven’t gotten to beat your ass yet for what you have done. That is something worth celebrating. And yeah, you have ticked me off Aren. That’s right. But trust me this is not a blind fury. This is no blind rage. I won’t just go balls to the walls when the bell rings come time for the two of us to go face to face for the EAW Championship. What this is, is a concentrated angre. Because you’re right about something Aren. Am I pissed off at you? You are absolutely correct! But is it blind? Will I go mental when the time comes for our showdown? Am I going to lose sight of what this is truly all about, what is really at stake? You bet your ass, you are dead wrong. I know what I am getting into, and I know what this is for. This is Nasir versus Aren. Brother versus Brother. EAW Championship gold on the line. Richest prize in the industry. Make or Break. Career defining match. A once in a lifetime opportunity. A match that could solidify me as one of the greatest ever, or a match that could be the sum of everything I have been told before this point. Because what people don’t realize is, no matter what. Aren Mstislav is a guaranteed man in this company whether he leaves this weekend as the EAW Champion or not. He’s the man, he’s done it all. And in such a short timespan. It’s marvelous. Myself on the other hand. If I lose here. If I lose now. Where do I go next. What does the future hold for Nasir? I completely broke away from my former self just to get this opportunity. An opportunity I would have NEVER have been given if I still raised an eyebrow and riddled off catchphrases. I had to redefine myself, and I had to call out this company and the people who call the shots on their bullshit week in and week out. The issue is, no one is listening to me. Other than these people. These fans. They follow me loyaly in my quest. It’s like I said, I am the Agent of Change. The Leader of the Future. And most importantly, holding that EAW Title belt will prove one thing I have longed to say. MY NAME IS NASIR BANK$, AND I AM THE BEST! WRESTLER! ALIVE! Because that’s the fact Aren. It doesn’t matter what Brian Daniels and Ares Vendetta are going to do, they can have a masterpiece of a match. Lucian Black and Eclipse Diemos can pound each other into the dirt, toss each other around like ragdolls. The fact remains, the match that I compete in, will be THE match, whether anyone back there wants to admit it or not. For over a month now I have been saying it. My voice, The people’s voice, OUR VOICE will be heard. Change will come. I came back to Elite Answers Wrestling for two reasons as you know already, but allow me to clarify for those that have not been paying attention. I returned for two reasons, because originally, I had no intentions of competing in a professional wrestling ring ever again. And now look at me, on the verge of becoming a top star. I can taste it. What seemed like something I would never experience is almost here. In under a week, I could and if everything goes the way I plan on, WILL be the EAW Champion, something I dreamed of as a young boy, watching the likes of Mr. Dedede and the Heart Break Boy. But back to the point. I was not supposed to be here. So what dragged me back? What lured me here into the land of the elites. First thing is first, these people NEED a hero. They NEED a man to step up and stand up. In a company full of selfish, maniacal, deceiving cowards such as yourself, they need a man who will rise up and fight with every ounce of energy, every drop of sweat, and every bit of fiber with their being to give them what they demand and what they need! Basically what I’m saying Aren is...I CAME BACK TO MAKE ELITE ANSWERS WRESTLING INTERESTING AND COOL AGAIN! Because lord almighty aka me again, knows you aren’t doing it yourself. And that’s the problem Aren. This entire time you have talked such a big game. You have been so vocal to let me know that you view me as someone who should not share the ring with you. Yet I notice everything else about you. Your body language, the inflection in your voice, the overall way you carry yourself. It’s different. I noticed the way you carried yourself when we teamed up to take on Xavier Williams and Jamie O’hara. You looked like a true champion who would fight till the end and back down from no man. But over the last few weeks you don’t look like that. You look like a...well you looked exactly how I summed you up two weeks ago Aren. You looked like a Pompous Spoiled BITCH!

And that’s the thing Aren. You look at me and view me as a man who came from the same places you came from. A man who has had to fight the same battles you have. But now you view me, you listen to the reactions I get, and you see exactly how I carry myself. And now you view me as a man who has surpassed you in all ways except one, I don’t have the gold to signify it. That’s the last piece to the puzzle Aren. Because I walk around here, saying what I want and doing what I please as if I run this shit, oh and believe me, I do. The thing is though, No one else will treat me as the one shining star that is brighter than all the rest simply because I don’t have that EAW Championship that you have gripped so much tighter in your grasp now that I am staking claim to it. Oh and you come at me for claiming to be a God, then turn around and call yourself God. Now allow me to do some fact checking for you buddy, If I recall there’s a man in EAW right now in fact, he’s a hall of famer, his name is Mikado Sekaiichi. A man who called himself god and was main eventing shows before either one of us even signed with EAW. Probably before either one of us entered this crazy world in the first place, let alone became stars here. And for an even better comparison for you. How about that guy, Lannister huh? You know, I LOVE how you all of a sudden starting referring to yourself as the “One True King” when he returned to us a couple months back. I also love how when I stuck claim to the EAW Championship, only THEN did you begin calling yourself “God” as well as King. Aren it just seems whenever you feel threatened by someone, you have to find a way to make yourself feel superior. You seem to have a Napoleon Complex. Doesn’t surprise me whatsoever to be perfectly honest. I mean you could have actually fought back against me a multitude of times, but instead you just sit there from a distance and make your cute little threats. Including my favorite one of “I wouldn’t want you to bring out ‘your other side’ for this match” That “I am not ready for that side of you”. Oh believe me, I am. And I want him more than you could imagine. I have had the pleasure of sharing a locker room with a multitude of men who have gone face to face with Voin. Most of them tell me is nothing like anything else they have experienced in their careers. And to be perfectly honest, seeing as how you have never kept me down Aren, you WILL need HIM! Voin is your saving grace Aren. Without him, you are doomed, and your tyrannical reign as EAW Champion comes to an end. But the main thing is, I don’t fear Voin. I do not fear him. And that is his most powerful weapon. Intimidation. The fact is Aren. Without fear, Voin is no different from you. It’s basically just a different spin on the same old. But if you insist on releasing the demon to face me, then no better man than the guy with more personal demons and skeletons in his closet than anyone else you’ll go up against. Aren I am a relentless man. I will not stop. And the fact is, if you are going to present A demon before me, then I will simply have to become the Demon Hunter, now won’t I? Because demons were placed into this world to be vanquished! I told you I am the hero here. For the first time in my career I feel like more than just a supporting role. More than just a role player. I am the focalpoint man here. Aren it’s time to go big or go home, and I am standing up and I am fighting. You knock me down, I get back up. Repeat, Repeat, Repeat! I am not going ANYWHERE! I stand and I fight for myself, these people, and the future of this industry! A future that needs change, And I am the one who will bring that change to light.

And why do they sympathize with me Aren? Clearly you have not been listening to a damn thing. Are you that stuck in your own twisted fantasies? I guess all World Champions are like that huh? Certainly explained guys like Ares Vendetta and Scott Oasis being the way they were huh? That championship has corrupted you, You are drunk and mad with power. Just like Jamie was when he reigned. Just like Vic was when he reigned. Just like Xavier was when he reigned. They sympathize with me because you are the one who has lost sight Aren! YOU LOST SIGHT OF WHAT MATTERS! YOU SIT THERE AND PLAY INNOCENT! BUT YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID! YOU TURNED YOUR BACK ON THE ONE MAN WHO HAD YOUR’S THROUGH THICK AND THIN! I DIDN’T WANT TO DESTROY OUR FRIENDSHIP, OUR BOND, OUR BROTHERHOOD! I SIMPLY WANTED AN OPPORTUNITY! And you know...I thought you of all people would be understanding. I thought you of all people would be above this. But I suppose I was wrong. I may be right about a lot of things, but pegging you as my closest friend in the world, wasn’t one of them. And it seems Sunday Night is not big enough for the two of us. But the fact is Aren, I am not leaving. Because being back home in Atlantic City was...well I needed it sorely. But to tell you the absolute honest truth, I CAN’T CHANGE THIS BRAND AND COMPANY INTO WHAT IT SHOULD BE FROM ATLANTIC CITY! Where can I do it? In Vancouver. Territorial Invasion. That is where it can and will happen! And allow me to be frank, The reason I could not become New Breed Champion is because I faced a REAL Champion. The reason I could not become National Elite Champion is because I faced a REAL Champion. The fact is, not everyone here that has held championship gold can boast that! By all accounts you are right Aren. In the championship scenario, I have yet to win. What you fail to admit is, I seem to always face the unbeatable champion at the timing in which, me winning feels awkward. Am I blaming anyone else other than myself? No. What I am saying is, there must be a reason i don’t get the same opportunities others are afforded, the same opportunities others are GIVEN! Take your National Elite Championship for example. When you won, it was perfect timing. Tyler Parker had a solid run, however it had worn thin, So you swoop in and present yourself and BAM! New Champion. My case challenging Jamie for the New Breed Title, not so much. But I still went out there and even back then when i was restricted and censored, proved why in that ring I AM The BEST! WRESTLER! ALIVE! I was the co-main event and I seized the opportunity! I made all of it! That match is fondly looked back as the greatest of Jamie’s New Breed Title reign! But do you wanna know the difference between our National Elite title match and THIS title match is Aren? Well back then I was facing a champion. Today I will stand across the ring from a Pompous BITCH! A spoiled man who well, let’s be honest now. I’ve always wanted to ask you. Seeing as how you don’t have the balls to fight me head on Aren, does your Aria keep them in her purse? Or perhaps she keeps them in her Young Lion’s Cup! BINGO! I mean, she can’t cash the thing in yet, so it needs something to do in the meantime other than collect dust. And your balls are small enough to fit in the thing with room. So i figure why not? Oh and trust me bro, this contest won’t end with shenanigans like any of your past title matches. No discrepancies here, Because at the end of the night I am going to pin you ONE, TWO, THREE Clean as a whistle in the middle of the ring. And Aren you claim you don’t care about the path this company and this business head in, as long as it revolves around you...THAT’S THE DAMN PROBLEM AREN! THE ISSUE IS THAT YOU DON’T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT ANYONE BUT YOURSELF! AND MY ISSUE IS THAT I CARE TOO MUCH ABOUT EVERYONE ELSE! But who knows Aren. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t have a future after TI. Maybe I shouldn’t share a ring with you. Maybe I should just leave. AND Maybe I should just Ether you in the middle of the ring when the time comes. Because Aren it is YOU that is blind! All you see is the here and now! I see the future, a very BRIGHT Future! A future where all the young men and women who have waited oh so patiently get what they have coming to them, and I am their representative! My quest for change here in EAW will not stop! The first thing on the agenda is removing you from the EAW Title Picture! Like I told you all the other night, this is the posterboy for Elite Answers Wrestling now, so you better get used to it!

Lately, I haven’t spoken much.

Lately, I haven’t wrestled much.

And that breath of fresh air is what will save me. Not that I’ve ever needed a knight in shining armor riding in on a white horse to come and spare me the torture, but that brief time away allowed me to reevaluate. It gave me the opportunity to keep marching forward instead of looking back. That’s what the difference at Territorial Invasion will be; the fact that all my struggles and misses are in the rearview mirror, and the imminent victory ahead of me in plain sight all that remains. The critics ask, how can I be so certain of myself when everybody else has their doubts? I’ve got that inner confidence that my contemporaries sorely lack. I’ve got that fire that can’t be extinguished. And in my hands I carry the match that ignites the flame. I didn’t become so successful by dwelling on setbacks. Look at all the other failed prospects that were seemingly destined to blossom into superstars. The reason they didn’t become great? They harped on what they hadn’t done so long, they became oblivious to what they still could do! That fatal mistake, that one key error, it’s what separates champs from chumps, it’s the line in the sand drawn between the average and the extraordinary, and it’s that very margin of difference that will decide the outcome of Team Voltage’s match at Territorial Invasion — one brand prevailing while the other is left licking the wounds of their picked carcass as they hear a member of the rival team’s theme music blaring through every speaker in the arena. What makes me great, what makes me exceptional, what makes me extraordinary, what makes me supersede humanity — I snuff out the problem in its molehill infancy before I let it become a mountain. That’s why I left Blaise Hunter out of this, because he isn’t fit to serve me. He isn’t fit to wield the sword in the heat of battle. Instead, a very average wrestler did what all very average people do. He stared daggers into my eyes as I told him he was off the team, I walked out of the locker room, and instead of showing me up with a blindsided attack and proving he has the passion required to be extreme in an industry of elites, all he could do was badmouth me under his breath and twiddle his thumbs before promptly going back to sticking them up his ass. No big deal for him, it doesn’t mean anything to scrubs, it doesn’t mean anything to the average — but for people like me, for the extraordinary, for the standouts who knock the stand-ins off their pedestals and throw three punches for every one — it means everything. I would have liked for him to attack me. I would have liked for him to grab a lead pipe from the corner of that room and prove that he had what it takes to rise to the extreme without a shadow of a doubt. But like so many career failures in this great sport of ours that are content simply to have their pockets lined, he didn’t do a damn thing. It’s baffling to me that I can rightly single someone out and get shunned and criticized for working to the benefit of my team; it’s almost as if some people would rather be in the parallel universe where Blaise Hunter is a member of Team Voltage and embarrasses our colors at Territorial Invasion. It’s crazy, some people prefer loyalty over competence; they’d rather lose with their brothers in arms than join The Empire and win alongside Darth Vader. I can’t abide by such a lifestyle. The same people that froth at the mouth talking about honor are the first ones to stab you in the back. The same people that pull your strings are the ones that keep their scissors within an arm’s length. Some people call it paranoia, I call it preparation. Some say it’s dishonor, I say it’s dominance. And it’s because I’ve operated within those guidelines for so long that I’ve been able to turn the figurative into the literal and the impossible into my reality. But nobody can understand that because they’re too busy staying confined in their own bubble, completely careless of and clueless to the possibility that their friends don’t always have their best interests at the forefront. That’s fine, I don’t give a shit; I’d rather be a poor winner than a good loser any day of the week. And it’s with that exact thought in mind that I, Voltage’s Captain, EAW’s Captain, the Captain of Extreme, constructed the team that’s going to charge through and obliterate the best Dynasty has to offer with all the force of a battering ram. But you honorable, loyal dogs stay true to you, keep on reading your fairy tales, keep on existing in this false reality where you’re the protagonist and the author of your own stories; because just when you think you’ve got that perfect ending all mapped out, guess what? The editor arrives — THE MACHINE! Hacking into your computers, rewiring your mainframes, changing the narratives, resetting the scenery, and rewriting that perfect ending into unspeakable suffering. Don’t EVER take your sights off The Machine and drop that pen you all hold in your hands; because I can guarantee the moment you do, the moment you make the slightest misstep at Territorial Invasion, I’ll be the one picking it up.

NO ANTI-VIRUS CAN CLEANSE YOU OF ME.

NO TEAM WILL MAKE ANYONE FORGET THE "I."

So I keep my third eye in the back of my head, the two in the front looking forward, and when the dust is settled and the battle is won, on behalf of team Voltage I say... Scoreboard.

1-0.

 
 
This…. this is the real me.


Let me show you all that while I can be the friendly and caring person that I am, I can also be the one that can switch into a dark place. I’ve been in such a tough spot emotionally in my personal life before, that I’ve used those said emotions in the ring to my advantage. I’ve competed in many, many hardcore matches before, and I’ve done things that not only am I not proud of, but things that have kept me up at night. I’m a former multiple time champion of the hardcore division, and I didn’t achieve that by dishing out a couple of chair shots to the head, or delivering a Killer KO from the top of a ladder. That is child’s play compared to the things that I have done. I will be competing at my first FPV for EAW – an Open Hardcore Invitational. I will be competing against friends, enemies and people I’ve never even conversed with before. But when I get into this dark place for hardcore, I treat everybody all the same. I don’t care if we’re friends, I will stop at nothing to gain a victory. I will beat you mercilessly if I have to, and if our friendship ends because of it, then I’m sorry that you’ll feel that way. This is the real me, and because of that, I want to talk personally and from the heart to each of my opponents in this match.


Who do I begin with?


…


J.D. Damon. I watch your matches week in and week out you never fail to impress me during them. You’re talented, dangerous and overall very, very good. You say it all the time – you’ve beaten two icons in Vic Vendetta and Scott Diamond, and that’s huge. The thing I always, ALWAYS forget about you however, is the fact that you have founded this faction named Wolvesden. Last week Black Sven and yourself were having a hell of a match, and I was watching backstage and I was really into it… until Wolvesden came out and ruined everything. What’s the matter Damon? What, you can’t fight your own battles? You have fucking goons doing all the dirty work for you! What that tells me is that I don’t think you’re good enough to hang with the talent in this Hardcore Invitational. You’re not a man… you’re a coward. If I see any of these Soldier Wolves in our Hardcore Invitational at Territorial Invasion, I will personally make sure that every single one of them will be incapable of fighting your battles for you in the future. I’ll make them all afraid of showing up in any arena ever again.


Ahren, you sure are a funny fucker. You’re cocky too, and sometimes being cocky can get you far in this industry. I say if you can prove that you can back up what you say in the ring, then say whatever the hell you want. But when I see you Ahren, I see a guy with a face that’s just BEGGING to be smashed in. I see a guy who has a lot of claims, but not a lot of game. All you do is talk about how damn sexy you are, and you’re the one that’s calling ME trash?! Ahren you’re a walking fucking garbage can. Why play so hard to get when you’re already so hard to want? I feel sorry for all the girls that chose to spend their nights with you – you can’t fit your package in the bulk part of the letterbox. Yeah that’s right, I hear things. Women talk you know. At Territorial Invasion you are going to see what this “trash” can do when hardcore is added into the mix, and I guarantee that when after I’m done with you, you’re going to want to hide your damn face from the rest of the world, because I am going to bash it the fuck in.


Maero, we meet again. I don’t like to get caught up in stats, but it’s a straight up fact that I beat you clean in the ring one on one a few weeks ago on Voltage. I’d say that it wasn’t a difficult win but… I really felt like I had no challenge against you to be honest. And if I can stay on the topic of honesty for a minute, Maero my man, you are the definition of, “fucked in the head.” All the fuckheads in Australia are from Sydney so that’s not even a surprising detail. I dare you to pull out that scalpel on me in this match Victor Adams, and I want you to cut me. I’m serious. You may be a deranged psychopath, but once you step in the ring with me and things are getting extreme, you won’t even know what the definition of psychopath will mean anymore. I’m the Hannibal Lecter of Hardcore, bitch! You think I’m just saying that for intimidation purposes? Bring your child Oz to the ring for this match and just see what will happen to him. I guarantee it won’t end pretty. I hope I am able to make an enemy out of you after this match Maero…


When I see you Sven, I see somebody I can relate to. You and I share the same passion for this industry, and I love that. You do admit that you lose your mind occasionally, but I honestly believe that’s what makes you you. You and I also share the same passion for hardcore, and I could tell that from your performance last week against J.D. Damon, that you are willing to go that extra mile to achieve greatness. Against Wolvesden, you didn’t quit, you didn’t give up and you didn’t surrender. They beat you down, but you managed to keep the fight strong and you broke one of the soldier’s arms. Mad respect. Let’s see how many extra miles you’re willing to travel though, because I’m willing to cross the entire world three times over in order to get my hands on that Hardcore gold. Push yourself to the limit Sven… I’ll see you at Territorial Invasion.


Many call you the favourite to win this entire match, and honestly I do not question that statement whatsoever. Phoenix Winterborn, you continue to claim that you feel you haven’t been given the respect you so solely deserve, and the fact that you’re willing to go lengths to get it is great. You’re an incredible athlete, and you deserve all the respect for that. I have never crossed paths with you Phoenix, so I’ve never really had a real problem with you at any point since joining EAW, but at Territorial Invasion, we’re bound to cross paths in the Invitational, and if you want me to give you the respect you say you so rightly deserve, then you’re going to have to beat it out of me. You can use that precious baseball bat of yours, and knock my head off my fucking shoulders but it’s still not going to be enough. You seem to be a man who is ready for anything, but I guarantee you’re not ready for the hardcore side of The Killer.


I feel like I’m forgetting somebody… oh yeah…


Marco Fedor. You’re not going to just run away from this match like you did in the last one, when you say you had kept your dignity after being able to prove you could get the job done without resorting to some sort of hardcore violence. As punishment for stealing the win from the guy that said he would mentor you in our tag team match last week, I am going to personally make sure you never see that Hardcore gold again. I said I would take you under my wing and prove to the locker room you’re not a coward, but after what you did in our tag team match last week on Voltage, you’re not doing anyone any god damn favours. The truth is Marco … you are a coward. You can continue to say that your mother didn’t raise no coward, and I’m sure she’s proud of you no matter what, but I can promise you she would be way prouder if you were a champion. Cowards don’t win gold; quitters don’t win gold – heart does. So at Territorial Invasion, I am going to give you your next teaching lesson, free of charge. Well, you will be paying but not with money. You see Marco, we may be friends, but in the Hardcore Match, I am going to hurt you… I am going to make you bleed… I am going to break your body, break your bones and destroy that coward’s mentality of yours. If you run away, you can bet your ass I’m going after you to drag you back to the ring. I don’t care if I’m chasing you through the fucking streets of Vancouver – I will drag you back to that ring! Only then will people look at the destroyed, beaten up and bruised you and say, “wow… he really can take a beating. Is he really a coward?” This isn’t a choice Mr Fedor, this is compulsory, and if you don’t like it, then you’re on your own buddy.



The Killer is coming to the BC Place in Vancouver, Canada for Territorial Invasion, my first ever FPW! And to my fans that think they know me best, get ready because you ain’t seen nothing yet. To all of my fans that have seen my old hardcore matches and think you know what to expect? Well, you fucking don’t, and I say that as graciously as possible. It’s been a seriously long time since I’ve competed in a Hardcore match of any variety, but I haven’t lost my dark place in my head, and that’s where it all starts with me. That’s where the violence begins… my adrenaline shoots through my body and I feel like I could be murdered and still come out on top as the winner. In just a few short nights, the in-ring veteran will be an underdog in his own match-type, but I am out to prove them all wrong. Vancouver… let’s get our hands dirty.  

TERRITORIAL INVASION I: SICK OF THE LIES.

(The scene begins with a furious and taped up Nathan Fiora, walking away from the locker area, with all of his bags.  Preacher Jamal is also taped up and Rebecca Sawyer is talking to Nathan, who seems to be too angry to pay attention.  Several reporters pass by and Fiora shoves them to the side, with anger in his gestures and words.  A smaller reporter stops and walks in front of Nathan, stopping him in his tracks.  Fiora is not amused at all and grabs the reporter by his jacket.  The reporter, terrified and in pain, asks Nathan a question.)

“...What now, Mr. Fiora?...”


WHAT NOW?  OH I’LL TELL WHAT NOW.  YOU DON’T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT THAT, HONEY.  

I need you all to listen the fuck up.  No, there will be no apology for my language because I’m pretty pissed right now.  I am sick and tired of this bullshit.  Did you see what happened this past week on Voltage?  You better have because if you weren’t, then you’re watching a B+ show at best.  Diamond Cage was mine; I had the advantage on this “hardcore legend”.  My plan was going just as planned and then HE came around and ruined my match.  HE has been putting me down for the past couple of weeks and I’m putting my damn foot down.  This man is none other than the incompetent Voltage General Manager, Carlos Rosso.  Who thought it was the right choice to put this mad man in charge?  Someone tell me right now.  I need a good explanation because I can’t think of any realistic and sensible reason on why this idiot is running MY show.  This was MY main event match; it was going to be a classic and the best match that I’ve been in since I got here.  But noo.  Carlos decided to put his nose up into something that’s none of his business and send reinforcements to “help” me.  I HAD PREACHER JAMAL.  I had myself; I was doing all of this by my damn self.  If I had asked for anyone else to help me, I would’ve said something.  Did anyone here see any sort of footage of me asking for someone’s help?  You better be saying no because any other answer would make you a liar.  MY MOMENT WAS STOLEN BY THIS STUPID AND ARROGANT SON OF A BITCH.  He let his feelings get into my affairs and that’s where he messed up.  Sure, I’ve been mad about the team captain position being stolen from me and being given to a less deserving Y2Impact.  Where the hell has he been?  Has he been competing every week like yours truly?  NO, because he isn’t that good.  Then Rosso decides to be very clever and forces me to explain my actions for what I did two weeks ago.  Like I’ve said before; my choice was the best for the team and the rest of the company.  If I had decided to be Christian Locke’s little angel, I’d have no wings right now and I’d be in a hospital bed.  And don’t even get me started on the people in Chicago.  I didn’t trust them at all; those slithering snakes turned on the best thing that they have.  No, it’s not the Chicago Bulls or the Chicago Bears; it’s Chicago’s one and only Nathan Fiora.  I saved Chicago from becoming a place of only past success and a dark future.  I DESERVE appreciation and I will get it from the people that have been here from day one; not some internet darlings typing on their blogs or making simple-minded videos.  I’m simply putting this as that these people don’t know talent and they will never know what it means to be the best.  This guy is moving to Fiora Town where everything is right in the world and where the world worships me.  No, they’re not worshipping some old, run-down “legends” like Diamond Cage and Jacob Senn; they’re worshipping the greatest in this business today and the only synonym to that word is NATHAN FIORA.  I will absorb all of these reactions and laugh it off because it feels good to be hated by people who don’t know any better.  This show has turned completely on me and the only thing that a man like I could do is to show every single person why I got this spot.  I didn’t get this spot because I got lucky.  I didn’t get this spot because I kissed someone’s ass like Y2Impact.  No, I worked my ass off for this and I’m not going to waste any moment on proving why I am better than every other man in this match.  My time has been here.  I’ve just never gotten the recognition for this because of corrupt EAW politics and negative bias towards yours truly.  It’s not the time for others who have shined before to meet similar waters.  NO, THIS IS GOING TO BE MY MOMENT, AND I DON’T GIVE A DAMN IF YOU LIKE IT OR NOT.  LOOK AT MY EYES AND YOU’LL SEE THE PASSION THAT’S BURNING; THE PASSION IS JUST SHOWING WHY I BOX WITH THE BIG BOYS IN THE PLAYGROUND.  Look at my damn face and body.  I got these scars because I put my body on the line more than anyone else in my team has.  This alone and other reasons show why I’m destined to be a main eventer.  If I have to beat a B+ roster team in order to show my worth, then I’ll do it.

(Fiora throws his things to the ground and grabs the microphone.  He shows the Hardcore title on his shoulders and yells at the camera people to get the camera on his face.  Preacher Jamal is in shock while Rebecca Sawyer is seen, with a huge grin on her face.  Nathan grabs the reporter and begins to tease him and throw him around.)

LOOK AT ME, DAMN IT.  Do I look like I’ve got some time to play some playground games with some of the members of Team Voltage and Team Dynasty?  Don’t answer the question because it’s rhetorical, idiot.  Because of that reason, I’d rather just not talk about the men who decide to not care about this match as much as I do.  The first man that I’ll beat is the scary Canadian, TLA.  Yeah, I said scary and Canadian in the same sentence.  I’m not afraid of someone who decides to underestimate what I can do in this ring.  Dedicating just one sentence to EAW’s Hardcore champion is disgusting.  Who the hell do you think you are?  In the “Top 10 Worst Things About You” list, underestimation might just come in second place to your terrible grammar, esse.  You can keep up with fighting the fans, but nothing’s going to prepare you and your fate at Territorial Invasion.  We aren’t some overweight, disgusting fools like the majority of the people who like you.  I’ve been up against some of the best, pal, and I wouldn’t consider you anything near that.  You could be in the honorable mentions section, but that might be a bit too nice.  Bring your knives and your gangsta rhymes, but that’s only going to make you look like some Mexican stereotype.  I mean, your fans were probably just as fat as the ones you beat up, but hey, I won’t say anything else but this last thing. I’ve got a solution to all of your nonsense problems.  Here’s something you could definitely do after you lose to Team Voltage this weekend since you really want to do something productive: G-o f-u-c-k y-o-u-r-s-e-l-f.  Yeah, it’s that simple!  A man who I can never understand to is the somewhat honorable and blabbing Jacob Senn.  So we finally meet, you redneck refugee.  You may be on Team Dynasty, trying to restore your name to the grace that it once had, but it’s too bad that you can’t do anything to fix it.  Your name was ruined from the second that Scott Oasis laid you out, like a little bitch.  Like I said before; you are trying so hard, but you keep falling out of the podium.  Jacob Senn doesn’t come in first place anymore; he’s going down to the swamps of sucking just that badly.  And by sucking, I mean sucking anyone’s balls just to get an opportunity like this.  You’re right about one thing though; you’re right about the fact that you haven’t been the same man since you lost for your world title.  You haven’t gotten out of your addiction of just crashing and burning in the most dire situations.  I will be glad to cave your head in with my boot, knocking that ridiculous looking smirk of yours.  I’m more than glad to make you and your Dynasty boys my personal ring aids.  They won’t have any careers after this is over, so I should be nice enough to offer them something that keeps them around the ring.  Senn, you get the best part.  You will get the job of shining my boots with my own spit and shining up my Hardcore title.  It seems to fit you because you wouldn’t be able to wear MY boots and hold MY title.  This is a damn shame, I tell you.  You say nothing about the best champion in the company.  Is it the fact that I’m holding some gold and you’re in some sort of drought right now?  Or maybe it’s the fact that you know that I can beat you at any game at any time.  The world will see the truth, so unless you have anything good to say, I’d recommend you to shut your mouth and learn your place in MY company.  

(Nathan takes off his shirt and throws it at the reporter, demanding for him to clean it up.  Fiora’s wounds from his match with Diamond Cage begin to bleed out.  Nate is cleaned up by Preacher Jamal, but is still livid.)

OH.  Don’t even get me started with my unreliable partners.  NO, NO, NO, NO.  We have the “best in the world” (so original), the privileged little scumbag, the “Midas Touch” and that one guy Jamie.  Xavier Williams and Jamie O’Hara, the tag team champions in a nearly extinct division; that’s nice.  It’s really cool to know that you guys have no real competition, so thank you for holding those titles.  I mean, you two need something to do after being dropped to irrelevancy.  Xavier lost his Hall of Fame title to Mr. DEDEDE and Jamie has just become inferior to the number one contender to Aren Mstislav’s title, Nasir Capitani.  But hey; don’t let me run over your parade.  I’m too busy being the most valuable asset to the show and showing this joke of a fanbase why I’m going to be EAW’s main man.  Jamie, I don’t really care about what you have to say at this point.  You’ve become into Xav’s sidekick at this point because I don’t hear much from you.  Maybe I just ignore you because you’re a disgrace to the Voltage roster or maybe it’s because I honestly don’t care for you.  This is where you come in!  You decide which one is the answer and we can talk about this on another time.  I have more relevant people to talk about.  Xavier, oh how the supposedly great have fallen.  Where’s your world title status, man?  Where’s the best in the world accolade?  If you actually lived up to your own hype, then you’d still be a champion.  The only thing you really proved is how much a false-claimed individual could fall.  Matt Miles.  Don’t even let me get started on how I hate your guts.  You’ve talked all this shit and guess what?  You’re not main eventing every week; I’m pretty much doing that.  You’re too busy playing with the midcard boys and that’s fine, but I’m too busy with being better than everyone else and facing the best this company can offer.  You want to prove something in this Divide and Conquer match, but all that you’ll prove is that you’re just a Jester to the King.  Y2Impact is the man of the hour.  The self-proclaimed chosen one of Carlos Rosso.  I have a few words for you that I’d want you to consider.  Why did you decide to lead a team that you’re only around to motivate?  If you had any right to be this team’s captain, then you’d be competing every single week, but wait; you weren’t.  It’s whatever, though; it’s cool to get the “Carlos Rosso’s Bitch Privileges” package.  You can go ahead and be given all that you want because that’s how it’s always been with you; just being given everything that you want.  I have risen to the top of this card because I have IT.  The spark that will ensure that I’ll be leading this company very soon.  My hard work is finally being paid for, but the biggest mistake was taking me out of the team captain picture.  I don’t care if you’ve beaten me before; you know how good I am and how much I’ll do just to get some sort of winning breath.  I am going to prove to you and the rest of this ungrateful scumbags that I’m something.  I’m the future of this company and that no man will be able to stop me in my tracks.  Not Y2Impact, not TLA, not Aren Mstislav, not even GOD HIMSELF.  I am the picture that you see when you look up for future.  Don’t doubt me, because you’ll be in for one hell of a surprise.

NOW GET OUT OF MY FACE.

(Nathan Fiora grabs his things and heads out of the arena with his posse.  There is a trail of blood in Fiora’s direction as the cameras point at it.  The scene ends as it fades to black.)

(Camera fades in on the interviewer that Ahren pals around with)

 

Interviewer: I’m here in front of Ahren Fourniers own personal locker room because I’m contracted by this company to do so… I know this will be awful, so lets just get this over with….

 

(He knocks on the door, and Ahren comes out brushing his teeth not wearing a shirt)

 

Ahren: Whidjfs uubb wend??

 

Interviewer: STOP SCHEDULING INTERVIEWS AND FORGETTING ABOUT THEM

 

(Ahren spits the toothpaste out on the interviewers shoes)

 

Ahren: that’s what I think of you and your rules of time, and what not…

 

Interviewer: These shoes cost $500

 

Ahren: And I just upped those puppies to $1,000, genuine Ahren Fournier spit… You’re welcome

 

Interviewer: Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?

 

Ahren: Oh is this the interview now? What an awful transition.. Anyways… I’m just getting ready for the beginning of my day, NBD!!!

 
Interviewer: it’s 6… pm…

 

Ahren: You’re 6… pm…

 

Interviewer: What does that even….

 

Ahren: ANYWAYS!!! I can’t wear shirts anymore, I need to let my body breath

 

Interviewer: So you’re not going to ever wear a shirt… ever again.. What happens when its winter? And what does that even mean?

 

Ahren: Umm it gets cold… must I tell you everything there is to know about basic science.. You fool… And basically it means I need to let my body breath

 

Interviewer: I have a headache already… Anyways, you’ve been booked for a hardcore match at Territorial Invasion, thoughts?

 

Ahren: I’m against thots? Hmmm, I can fucks wit dat ayyyy

 

Interviewer: GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS!

 

Ahren: YOU CAN’T HAVE MY THOTS THEY’RE MINE, GET YOUR OWN!

 

Interviewer: ON THE MATCH!!!!

 

Ahren: NO LOUD NOISES IN THE DOORWAY OF MY ROOM!! I’VE TOLD YOU THIS!!

 

Interviewer: ARRRRGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!

 

Ahren: So… you made this awkward… umm, thoughts on my upcoming Territorial Invasion match hmm?

 

Interviewer: yes… please…

 

Ahren: Ok, you may leave now

 

Interviewer: But you haven’t even…

 

Ahren: Leave my presence peasant, for I’m about to speak, you’ve done your job…

 

(Interviewer starts to leave)

 

Ahren: hey!!

 

(interviewer looks back sad)

 

Ahren: CATCH!!

 

(He throws a full Coke can at him, and it hits the interviewer in the face)

 

Interviewer: OWWWWWWWWW WHY DID YOU DO THAT????

 

Ahren: Oh, I thought we were having a moment.. like that Mean Joe Greene commercial.. nice hands, stop bleeding on my hallway floor and leave… clean that up actually.. (interviewer leaves bleeding to get  a mop) AND YOU COULD’VE THANKED ME FOR THE SODA….. So ungrateful. Anyways, HEYYYY EA DUB FAM! Just kidding we’re not fam.. I hate you all.. Just kidding, or am I? See I like to keep everyone on their toes, you don’t know what I’m going to do next. I’m unpredictable in LIFEEEEE, see you didn’t expect me to yell that but I did. And in the ring. I’m like a cat, mixed with a wolf, mixed with a dinosaur, mixed with Jesus, mixed with umm Katy Perry… No no no… Adele, I have a lovely singing voice, but I’m much better looking than her. But hey remind me to sing for you sometime, not now ,now is business. It’s a pretty exciting time to be A Fourn, got my very first EA Dub, FPV match coming up, and it’s a doozy! Look at all the talent… Black Sven.. racist… Marco and Maero Fedor… wait they’re not related? I mean… They should change that.. JD Damon… trash… Phoenix Winterborne.. bi polar trash that i’ve already beaten… Keelan Cetnascijsdcldncslc.. trashiest trash… What a fine cast of characters, and I can safely say, I’m better than each and every one of them! HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT AHREN???!!!! Um.. Because I’m Ahren Fournier, that’s how. Every time I go to that ring you’re in the presence of greatness, a sexual beast of such magnitude it can cause an earthquake! Fun fact, that happened in Peru once, I was there, the Peruvians were there, good times! I’m like their leader or whatever, that’s how much they love the Fourn dog. Keelan, and JD, I know for sure had the opportunity to get into that Voltage vs Dynasty match, and lost, so already I’ve got a chip on my shoulder against them, because they got opportunities and messed it up while I’m just here looking fine and shit doing nothing. But Ahren if you want opportunities go out and earn em.. Shut your dumb dog mouth. I have earned it, i’ve lost one match in my time in EAW while the likes of Phoenix Winterborne, get title chances, and other people with losing records just get given chances. But hey, it’s all under the bridge now, because this is a big opportunity, I get rid of this wasted roster space, and I’ll probably be given a medal of some sort.. Even an IOU would be nice. We got Marco Fedor out here talking about having a second chance, because he wasn’t good enough the first time, and he’s putting on his serious tough guy wrestler face, and trying to be intimidating but just coming off as a little child. You know why I call him a child? Well the fact he called himself a boy like 7 times haha. Then he started talking about his mother for some reason? So basically he just talked himself out of this. Listen, I am a man, I think wrestling boys is illegal, I’m not pedo Marco, so please remove yourself from this match. Naw but for real, you’re talking about how you proved people wrong because you “technically” had the Hardcore Title for a second… For a second… Who left that match champion for real though? OH not you, got it. So what did you really accomplish? How did you prove anything other than, you weren’t good enough to get an actual win? A placeholder victory isn’t the same as an actual victory. Let’s say the Carolina Panthers score 3 touchdowns in a row on the Seattle Seahawks, but there’s still a whole other quarter left, and in that quarter the Seahawks score 4 touchdowns, and the Panthers score 0.. Who won the game for real? The Seahawks, not the Panthers who had more points during the game. See what I’m saying? You scored, but you didn’t win, and definitely didn’t prove anything other than you’re not good enough to close. You’re proud that you beat Keelan? Cool I’m pretty sure I beat him too, and I’ve never even faced him. It’s like, hey you signed with EAW, here’s the guaranteed money you signed for, and here’s your win over Keelan… He’s trash. But anyways, that’s it? No one else said anything? Welp, time for me to hit the old dusty trail…I’m gonna go… But before I do, Just imagine this, Ahren Fournier, your NEW Hardcore Champion… Let that sink in…. ANNNNNDDD you just had an orgasm… You’re welcome everyone… FOURN DOGGY DOG OUT!!

 

(Camera Fades to black)

It's the things that we do when no one is looking that truly define our character as human beings on this Earth. If someone is lost, be it a pet, a child, or even an adult looking for simple direction to get from one destination to the next. Do you question first and direct secondly? [size=38]Or do you simply show them the way no questions asked? Then put yourself on the receiving end of those scenarios. Is the guider knowledgeable enough that we don't question, just accept their word and do as they say? Or do we question what that guider is telling us, and simply say “thanks, I think I know the way”?  [/size]


The next destination is just straight ahead. 


That's what this journey has been like for me in EAW. There are these roads that I've taken. Each road has its set of roadblocks ready to stop my forward progress as well. All along the way I must stop at these roadblocks, each and every one of them. I must stop a moment and move them to side and out of my path so I can proceed to the destination I seek. The destination straight ahead. 


Pizza Boy, as I've stated previously, the challenge you pose to me is a formidable one. You remind me of Jamie O’Hara in a way, but obviously not quite as brash. You are aware of the challenge your opponents pose, but even under all that modesty you don't believe you will be upended at this time. You don’t believe either me or Kurt is quite ready to hold the honorable distinction to be recognized as the next National Elite Champion. 


Your passive approach, it's something to behold when someone calls your ability to succeed into question. However, what I'm noticing as we trade verbal exchanges of respect back and forth is that with someone whose career reminds you a tad bit of your own? You can't help but play the role of the self-assured champion as you try to direct me off my path with hopes that I will just accept your words as finality. I've been down this path before with other Elitists, some arguably of greater ability. Prophecies don't always pan out as you foresee them to be in your mind, PB. With destiny breeds absolute certainty that something happen without question. However, if you believe we are two forces that neither yields to each other or can throw each other off the road, then who's to say that destiny favors you over me or vice-versa? 


I could go on some long menial spiel about being the next Champion using every predictable catch phrase and buzzword I can think of, and maybe two weeks ago I would have? I just see the point of it all now. I know now that it's not about quantity here. What we have is a stalemate. You are a worthy champion, but as you said already, I'm a worthy challenger with every bit of a chance to dethrone you as you do to retain against me. So what if Kurt is this racoon you believe him to be. It's a terrible analogy, and I'm sure Kurt will agree, but what you have to understand is that this triple threat, every man for himself? Anyone of us could be walking away with the gold. This arguably will be your the most difficult defense you will have in your reign should you successfully retain. Everything we have said seems to lead to even steven, but with the show we will put on at Territorial Invasion it would be a shame if the match result ended that way, so therefore there must be a winner…..just one.

In life we all take the time to reflect at our past actions and we also wish we could have done something different if we were presented the same opportunity again. Like for me ever since I had my very first championship opportunity I shocked a whole lot of people when I became the interim Hardcore Champion. I even shocked people more that I was the champ for the majority of the entire match. I even shocked myself too when I made J.D Damon tapout to a crossface submission hold and to think someone like me was able to accomplish that has made me proud. No one didn't think I would even stand a chance in the match and I went in and proved to those who didn't think I belong here wrong when I showed that I have the ability to get it done in the ring. I have proven that I didn't have to resort to ultra-violent tactics, I didn't have to betray my beliefs to get the job done. But then there was a moment in that I had a choice that I needed to make. As the intensity and the carnage has cranked up with the other competitors and I stood on the other side of the barricade witnessing it all, deep down inside I was scared when I saw what levels they were willing to go become the Hardcore Champion. In that moment where the time was winding down, in my head during that time I proved what I wanted to prove to the world that someone like me can get it done in the ring. Despite my soft and gentle nature, I can be a success in this company. But when it was all said and done a lot of people in the locker room began to taunt me and call me a coward. A lot of people in this company didn't see me a tactician in the ring,they didn't see a boy who went against the grain and end up proving the majority wrong. All they seen out of me after that match was a coward who would leave when the tough got going. When I looked back at that match and saw it with my own eyes to see what they were coming from, and it kills me to say that they were right and now that moment in my career has haunted me. Never in my life where I feel that my respect has been taken away from me. It's gotten so bad that even my friend, Keelan takes subtle jabs at my choice in leaving that Hardcore Scrmable match. But ever since that day when I looked into the mirror, I made a choice to gain my respect back and gain the respect out of every competitor on the Voltage brand and show them that I'm no coward. Mama Fedor didn't raise a coward, she raised a man that fights what he believes in and earn his respect from his foes and his peers and that's what I'm going to do! A couple of weeks ago I beaten my partner The Killer himself and in every shape and form he is better than me and whooped my bottom around the ring but despite all of that I ended up beating him. I proved to him that I can take a beating as long as my heart keeps ticking and it doesn't matter if you are a multiple time champion, it doesn't matter if you're better than me in every way imaginable, as long as I can still draw a single breath, I can take a beating and still find a way to win.

When I beat Keelan, I took the first step in showing everyone that I'm no coward! But when I spoke about reflection and wishing we could do something about the decisions we have made, well I have been blessed with another opportunity to fix all of that. I have been put in the Hardcore Championship Invitational match at Territorial Invasion. By the grace of God I have a chance to earn my second chance at the Hardcore Championship and all I have to do is to win this match. This is a really up hill battle because I'm facing such amazing athletes that have way more experience on me that I can only dream of. But despite all of that I can't let that intimidate me, I can't let that get in the way of something I want...no actually I can't let that get in the way in something I desperately need and that's my respect! I'm expecting a fight, I'm expecting everyone in this match targeting me and trying to deter me from my dreams in becoming a champion and I'm fine with it. I'm use to being made the victim, I'm use to guys always wanting to pick on me because I'm an easy target. I don't have much confidence in myself at times. When I wake up in the morning I sometimes amaze that I'm still here calling myself an EAW Elitist. But I'm here for a reason and it isn't all on luck alone because I have a passion for this business and I have always wanted to be here. I took the time to look at some motivational speeches on YouTube and the one quote that got me right in the heart and that actually resonates within me was There will never be a perfect moment or time in my lif to achieve great things. All those things that I have seen on tv watching wrestling seeing wrestlers obtain greatness to me those moments seemed perfect, the timing of it all seemed so mind blowing that you have to admit that it was perfect. But now that I'm out here hoping to emulate all of that and wait for that perfect moment to fall straight to my lap, I realize that it isn't going to happen by me just waiting for it. What I got from that video is that in order to create those perfect moments is that I have to create the perfect time, the perfect opportunity to make that perfect moment that will have everyone talking! So this invitational IS the perfect opportunity in redemption, me being apart of this IS the perfect situation for me and I'll put in the work to make this the perfect moment for me to go on and beat everyone in this match to get a second chance at the Hardcore Championship! Second chances are very hard to come by in this world and I'm going to make the most of this opportunity to get that second chance in making my dream into a reality! NATHAN FIORA, WATCH YOUR BACK BECAUSE THE BOY YOU HAVE BEEN TAUNTING EVER SINCE YOU WON THAT HARDCORE TITLE IS COMING AFTER YOU! It doesn't matter if it's five or five thousand people in this match, I'm going to survive and I'm going to win this match to get another chance to get my respect! It's one thing for me to be happy to be here in this company and I'm still not over the awe of it all. But in this match no man will get the star struck, wide eyed boy, you're going to get the boy who isn't just satisfied in being here, you're getting the boy who doesn't want to be complacent in just being another member of the Voltage roster. YOU'RE GETTING THE BOY WHO WILL GROW THE BOY WHO WILL GET OUT OF MY COMFORT ZONE TO REACH MY DREAM. I CAN'T WAIT FOR MY MOMMA TO HELP ME TO GET TO MY DREAM, I CAN'T ASK AVERAGE PEOPLE TO DO MY JOB FOR ME! THESE PEOPLE SEE ME AS A PHENOMENAL PERSON AND ONLY PHENOMENAL PEOPLE CAN DO PHENOMENAL THINGS! And when they saw me run away last time when I had the match one I understand why they are disappointed in me. They didn't deserve that so now I'm going to repay them with this victory and I'll live up to the potential that I have deep down inside of me and become Phenomenal!

The sad story of Diamond Cage; nothing more than something built into things that could have been. You know, the first match that I had the chance to see from this company was where you and DEDEDE were the last two standing against Scott Diamond’s Ironfist. I watched as it never mattered to what you endured; whether it was being forced to get used to the taste of your own blood, or being crushed by Gunkai Riggs - nothing was going to stop and keep Diamond Cage down. You had the world in the palm of your hand; you could have become greater than any other name in this company’s history. EVERYONE, whether it was in this company or they are apart of the viewing public; they wanted to see you grasp onto the things that this company had continuously dangled just out of your reach. You went to war with DEDEDE. You went to war with Dark Demon. You went to war with Starr-Stan. You went to war with ME. You were the only person on Voltage that could have managed to roll me up and force me off the brand that I helped rebuild - but then, that was it. You FINALLY grasp onto the EAW Championship and immediately flatline. Everything you worked for; everything that this company had poured into you, you pissed every single bit of it all away. And, DC, for what? Did being champion not feel how it should have? You weren't happy with being the face of this company and business as a whole? Was the chase better than being champion itself? You embarrassed this entire business. You embarrassed the people that built this company into what it is today, and more importantly, DC, you embarrassed me. I constantly had to listen to everyone that called you great. I had to listen to people talk about how you deserved the world. You deserved none of it. You didn't deserve the right to call yourself a champion. You didn't deserve the chance to stand at the forefront of this company. You didn't deserve the chances to walk in and out of this company. How long is this run going to last, DC? How long until that tail of yours is tucked back underneath your legs and you find yourself walking back out of the company? Who’s to say it doesn't happen when you fall at the feet of the man that broke you the first time.

That's the one things that has seemed to boil my blood more than anything else. For three years I've stood strong in this company. Through the many ups and the few downs, I've never once wavered. I've never second guest to whether I wanted to be here. I didn't need to step away for a few months to rejuvenate my passion for this. I've never been fired. I've never been injured. I've never left this company high and dry, but others have, and when they make their huge returns they expect the world to fall back at their feet. Hurricane Hawk returns five times a year and expects to stand at the forefront of this company, and when he doesn't he throws a complete fit. We're forced to listen about how nothing is going to Diamond Cage from one day grasping onto the World Heavyweight Championship, but what's going to happen when time continues to pass you by and you still find yourself with absolutely nothing? Who’s fault is that going to do, DC? What's going to be the excuse when you fall short at Territorial Invasion? Is the blame going to fall onto your shoulders, or are you going to attempt to shift it onto the shoulders of HRDO and Sebastian Monroe? Of course you are! Because in your head, you've done very few things wrong, and when you know that you have, it takes everything that you can muster when you're forced to admit it. I get it, though. Nobody likes being in the wrong. It doesn't happen too often, but I admit to my mistakes. I walked into the Showdown: Redemption and Pain for Pride Nine extremely overconfident and was forced to pay a major price because of it. I overlooked any possible threat that the people around me and someone like Thomas Minns was, and left myself open to being humiliated at the hand of a man I thought I could trust and a man that I knew wasn't near the level that I stood on. But, honestly, I can't wait for what you have to say, DC. I can't wait to hear about how you're going to get me back for taking the EAW Championship. I can't wait to hear about how I'm completely wrong about you; how you've worked for everything you've had in this company, and that it’s other's fault to why you've lost it all. Prove me wrong. I'm fucking begging you.

The Book of Tyler, Chapter IX: It's Hell Trying to Get to Heaven

I provoked you because you've provoked me. The past few weeks have led to this, to this moment that we get in the ring with each other. I've been on this Earth for thirty-two years and in my thirty-two years of living, I never knew what I was put here to do but it wasn't but a few weeks ago that I found out that I was put here to end Nico Borg. It's my responsibility to put him back in Reconciliation to express himself some more --- express how he should've never messed with him, express how sorry he is for what he has done and express how thankful he is to even be living. Though, that's not what I'm here to do, I'm not here to make sure that he apologizes to me and to the others... I'm here to do God's work. No, I'm not because God wouldn't like for me to hurt you like I intend on. No, God isn't about that. We're his children, aren't we? You're not a child of God, you're a spawn of the Devil himself. You're much like the Devil, thinking that you haven't sinned, thinking that nothing bad could ever happen to you but you know the Devil was an angel. He was angel and what happened? You've read the bible, haven't you? You know what happened to him, I won't reiterate. It seems like the cell is an afterthought, though, at this point. Yeah, in a few days, we're going to be surrounded by over sixteen miles of steel and standing on opposite sides of the ring from each other with nowhere for either us to go. Am I concerned? Not whatsoever. I'm prepared for this. I've been prepared for this. I'm prepared to look you in the eyes and not flinch. I'm prepared to not show mercy. When the cage is lowered to the floor, I'm cruel, showing no regard to whoever is in front of me. I'll maim those who have opposed me and Nico, you're one of those that have. You're right, I'm after your heart and this Saturday, I'll rip it out of your chest. You'll be without your heart and without God. It's been said that it's Hell trying to get to Heaven and I see Heaven in front of me. I see myself, clutching onto your heart, with blood pouring out. For the past few weeks, I've been thinking about getting back at you, I've barely slept but this Saturday, I'll be able to sleep. I'll be able to sleep when I exact my revenge. If it's Hell trying to get to Heaven, then you're in for a Hell you've never seen. Have you ever been to Hell? Have you seen the Devil? Because I have and I'm willing to go there and see him. I'm willing to go out there to the ring, in one of the two rings, look you in the eyes without batting an eyelash. The steel structure is brutal but these bare hands? Are even more brutal. These bare hands have bled, these bare hands have been broken, these bare hands has done things that isn't for the faint of heart. What I've done with these bare hands, you couldn't even stomach. That's not an empty threat, that's me making it known that we have some issues. Issues from a few weeks ago. You mentioned the interference in your match with Pizza Boy but that was at the end of the match, you lost without me interfering. Likewise, there's no asterisk on that loss. You lost before I could even get to the ring. I might've made an enemy out of you then but I came back because of you, Nico. I came back because of what I had heard from you, speaking like you're here to do God's work, speaking like you're a son of God, speaking like you're not a lying bastard. You've been lying through your teeth for the past few months and these lies? Aren't going to get you into Heaven. You're not going to Heaven. You think because you read the bible, because you go to church, because you're a son of God that you're going to Heaven? I'm not even going to Heaven and if I'm not, then you're not. One thing the bible never mentioned was me. The bible never told you about me. The bible never spoke of what could happen to you if you screw with others. The bible is a credible source. Lying is a sin in itself but the biggest sin you've ever committed was screwing with me. See, there's nothing in the bible that talks about me and you've been reading it... you've been reading it, thinking that you could keep me from hurting, thinking that you'd be okay but you're not, Nico. You're not okay. You're not okay out there, in the ring, in the steel structure. Like I said, I'm cruel and this Saturday, Hell is awaiting for you. I'm waiting for you. I'm waiting for you to get in the ring with me and show you no mercy like how you've shown others no mercy. It's the circle of life. You were birthed in a poor household, you took out others that you disliked, you've been here for a few months but there's life and then there's death. Your death is this Saturday. Full circle.

The Book of Tyler, Chapter VIII: Two Graves

It's been said that whoever seeks revenge digs two graves and the thing about revenge that I often tend to like so much myself, is that I get it whether it's been a couple of weeks or a couple of years. It's been two years but I haven't gotten my revenge for what you had done to me. Using me like that, though you think I'm bitter because of that, it's been on the back of my mind. You've been on the back of my mind. I've been waiting to get my hands on you for what you done. I've been waiting to get back in the ring with you. I've been waiting and it's no coincidence that we're back in the steel structure, on opposite sides of the ring. It's no coincidence that you're on the other side of the ring from me and it's no coincidence I get my revenge in the match that you used me in and left me behind in. I've waited for this. Throughout your entire career, I've heard you speak out about things. A few things here and there, a few heartfelt speeches, a few battle cries in the midst of your own battles. The trials, the tribulations, the situations you make seem bigger than they actually care. The emotional deluge, the BS, the babble, the dribble... I've heard it from you before and you know why you sound like a whiny little bitch? Because you are. You're a whiny little bitch. A whiny little bitch that begs for attention. A whiny little bitch that clutches at straws, trying to find something to complain about it and act like you couldn't care less and why's that, Crash? I'll tell you why. Because you have no actual retort for me. You even said it yourself that you had nothing to say to me, then why are you trying? You have nothing of substance to say to me. You haven't even led like Lannister has led and it eats at you. It eats away at your insides, claws at your face, leaves that bitter taste on the tip of your tongue and you're biting your lips before you speak but you can't hold back the frustrations. You know I'm right, Crash. So admit it. Admit to the fact that you are a pathetic, depressing, frustrated and hopeless... bitch. Admit to the fact that you don't care that I'm in this match because you couldn't care less about what happens to you. You'd choke yourself out if you could, wouldn't you? The thing is, you couldn't choke yourself out even if you tried. This Saturday, you're out there in the ring with me and though you can't choke yourself out, I can. I can put you in your grave. You have one foot in there. You're talk, acting like some tough guy so you can live with yourself because you know that within every fiber of your being, that you never had it. You're nothing to me at this point and there's no guilt inside of me for what I do to you inside the confines of the steel structure. You've put on a charade, through a depressing time, making excuses for the things you never had in life and how others have walked over you. You speak as though you're owed something but to me? The one thing you're owed, is everything you're to witness first-hand, for yourself when you're in the ring with me. You're owed to be beaten within an inch of your life. Because truth be told? I don't like you. You're a scumbag. That's who you are, Crash. You act like a tough and you stick your foot in your grave. The thing is, is that more often than not, that foot is what chokes your thoughts as you shove it down your throat.  You have these things to say to me, that pent up anger and frustration but it seems to me like, you feel much safer mocking me from afar. You feel much safer when you're not locked in a cage with me. You feel much safer knowing that you can run your mouth. This Saturday, though, you're not safe. Far from it. This is Hell on Earth for you and I'm going to humiliate you.

You've lingered. Lingered for some time. Allowing your anger and frustrations get to your head and you, with desperation, attack others from behind to get noticed. That's how sad you are. Sad enough that when you're actually out there in the ring, you think twice before attacking others and though you might not care that I'm in this match, you care more than you'd like to think. Because you know, deep down? You can't win. You keep begging for them. You want these matches, you beg for these matches but you're begging for the rest of them to protect you. You're practically begging for Lannister to protect you from me. You're practically begging for Tiberius Jones to not get too cocky. You're practically begging for me to not choke you out. Sadly, for you, you've ticked me off. You've ticked me off enough for me to disregard my well being to get back at you. You've made the mistake of neglecting me and not caring about what I said I'd do to you. Your biggest mistake is to think that I'm not some threat to you. Because I am a threat. I'm a threat to you and the rest of them. That's why you've been advised to actually say something to me. That's why you've been advised to actually care about me and this match and that's why you've been advised to not speak to me like you have. My threats aren't empty. I've never made empty threats. If I were you, I'd heed my threats. I'd care, a little bit. Because I was handpicked to be in this match because I've been in this match for the past few years and I've won. I was handpicked because I'm the biggest threat to you and the rest of them, to Lannister, to Tiberius Jones. Keep mocking me though. Keep mocking me because I won't hesitate to break every ligament in your body. I won't hesitate to use you like you used me. I won't hesitate to make you my bitch.

There's two graves but one of them isn't for me... it's for you.

Territorial Invasion Promo #2

The sound of lips smacking fills a dark screen.  Chewing, and chewing, and chewing, before a hard swallow.  The camera feed clicks on to the vague and obscure shot of a table's edge.  Barely visible in the background, a hand reaches down and pulls up a slice of pizza.  An almost cartoon in sound bite occurs off-camera, before the slice is lowered back down onto the table and the incessant chewing ends with yet another Tom and Jerry sound bite of a swallow.  A pair of elbows land on the table top, above them two hands purse in an almost prayer like locking of fingers.

"There's a saying that goes something like...'insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting the same result.'  Somethin' like that.  Can't say I'm verbatim on that quote, but the general gist is that if you become so O.C.D., so bull headed, so possessed by a way of doing things that it'll eventually be the end of you.  I know I'm one to talk when it comes to repetition and determination, but knowing where my past footsteps fell keeps me from going backwards."

The camera pans up to reveal the back of a booth's leather love seat.  The presence inhabiting it turns to face the camera, but proves too short to reveal his face over the tall seat's back.  Instead, only the glimpse of the top of his head is visible; bald and tattooed with a surgery scar running down where one would part their hair.  Realizing this, Pizza Boy peers around the side of his seat, revealing his cold gaze as his jaws move up and down, chewing on a piece of the pie.  Another deep gulp and it slides down his throat.

"I'm not going to play preacher to you Rex.  It'd be futile to hold sermon anyway.  Right now I'm like a father whose been where his kid is headed.  I know the repercussions, I know the folly, and I know the general outcome.  Does that mean that you, my metaphorical teenage son is going to listen to me? Take heed of my word? Learn from my experience? No.  No you have to learn on your own.  Just listening to you talk I hear a man who learns from trial and error.  You have to fall down and learn what the ground feels like before you take the precautions to prevent skinning your knees.  I understand that mindset.  It's my mindset.  I've had two of the business greats in my ear before and all I did was buck every time they tried to guide me on the path of least resistance.  It's the stubborn attitude of a young man, an attitude I arguably still have, and that's where you and I have a problem with one another.  Let's forget the analogy of unstoppable forces and immovable objects, let's look at it as what it truly is.  We are two men who wont be denied, dissuaded, or deterred from getting what we believe is rightfully ours.  We're like two similar magnets trying to reach for the same piece of metal, only to get pushed back by one another's current when we go in for the hardware.  We're locked in the same place, unable to top the other's force because we are on the same wavelength.  The problem therein lies that there's a third.  Let's say Kurt Burton is a raccoon.  That works.  He's a loner, he's a wanderer, he's probably nocturnal to some degree.  I mean, I don't know the guy all that well outside of the fact that I know he likes heavy, metallic, shiny, things.  I'm sure you know this too Rex considering how many of them he's wrapped around your head."

PB stands up, revealing a very childish pizza bib around his neck with the likeness of Pizza Steve on it, and the EAW National Championship around his waist with a napkin tucked around it's face plate to protect it from cheese splatter.  PB rips the napkin away and wipes the face of the belt with his bib, polishing it up nice for the camera.

"Raccoons don't value gold.  Raccoons only like shiny things.  They have no practical use for them, they don't spend gold at the market on raccoon sundries or buy pizza with it.  They're not intelligent enough to realize that gold has value, so value's voided when a raccoon adds it to his collection of shiny trinkets.  You let the raccoon into the house Rex.  He's bound to run wild like feral animals do, tossing furniture and foreign objects willy nilly until someone gets hurt. That's what wild, stupid, feral, rabid animals do.  The issue here is that while you and I are locked in our battle of sportsmanship and equal wits, this trash mouthed bottom feeder is going to scamper in and steal my gold.  He might even try hitting me with it, hey, who knows? Stupid, feral, destructive, scavengers are unpredictable like that.  So I say you and I correct the problem you created so that you and I can do what we set out to do in the beginning, and that'sfind out who the better man is between the two of us.  There's no shame in losing to a guy like you Rex.  Despite all of the smack talk, despite all of the misgivings about you going down the same mentor path that I've gone down, I truly respect you...but if I lost the title to a mangy rodent like Kurt Burton? Well, I'm not quite certain what I'd do.  He'd immediately turn the belt into one of his trash can props used to wallop guys like you over the head with, so I'm not sure if i'd want it back."

Pizza Boy self-consciously strokes the face of the belt as he stares down at it with a bit of worry in his eye.

"Maybe that's what the powers that be want instead of you and I falling into a potentially endless struggle to keep this bad boy around our waist.  Maybe Burton's presence isn't your fault at all despite your bravado proving catalyst to his entry.  Maybe they would have shoe horned him in somehow anyway.  Or maybe I'm being paranoid again.  It's not hard to fall into the conspiracy theory files after all of the things that I've fought against in EAW to keep the status quo in check.  It's just my PTSD kicking in again.  That's uh, Pizza's Trauma from Stables Disorder.  I'm the first on the books to have it.  Even named it after men.  But it does click all too perfectly doesn't it? Burton playing linchpin to what could be an eternal struggle for my gold, both of us moving on to what the company considers bigger and better things in the World Title division where guys like you and I get lost in the shuffle.  No, no, I'm paranoid.  Even if it were the case, and even if Burton did get his sticky little digits on my little pretty, I'd still go after him to get it back to retain some sanity and prestige in the National title picture.  After all, this is where we belong.  The title belongs around the waist of a true champion and I deserve to be right behind it.  It's destiny, it's prophecy, it's my path to glory, and nobody is going to put up a road block to keep me from riding this road to it's end."

PB rips off his bib, revealing his old bow tie beneath.  He sternly marches off camera with a reinvigorated bounce in his step.  The camera begins to pan out, until PB rushes back into frame, grabs another slice and runs off-screen again, only to return moments later once again to grab another slice and drop a tip.

The Book of Tyler, Chapter VII: Perception

Standing, in the ring, is where I'm the most comfortable. The ring is like an escape for me, from everything and everyone. The one person between me and my thoughts, is whoever is standing on the opposite side of the ring from me. The ring, on any given night, is where I release my stress. Regain my composure. Take it out on everyone else. An anger builds up inside of me like you wouldn't think and sometimes? Sometimes it scares me. Sometimes it's scary to think how much pent up anger and frustration I have. Anger I couldn't otherwise take out on others without breaking the law but would it be unlawful, for me to release my stress and take out my anger on those opposing me? In the ring, I can do whatever I want. I can say whatever I want and with that, I can and will back it up. This anger, this frustration, is what Lannister thinks is hypocritical. He thinks I'm so hypocritical because I'm so proud of the scars on my body, because I'm so proud of what I've been through, because I'm so proud that I've spilled blood and poured sweat and tears in the ring. He thinks it's hypocritical because I talked about how he's angry and he is but I'm angry because the ring is where I get to take that out on him, he's angry because he has nothing left; no throne, no kingdom, no crown. He thinks my hypocrisy is sincere. You know what? I am sincere. I'm sincere about what I've said about him and I'm sincere about what I said I'd do to him. In life, there's laws that are often harsh. In the ring, in my ring... they mean nothing. In the ring, there's no laws. There's no such thing. There's a lack of emotion and that's okay because like I said, I'm not showing any emotion for Lannister, much like he's not showing any emotion for me. He has this perception of me and that's fine with me because at Territorial Invasion, that perception changes. Because he gets to see my thoughts and see what I'm thinking of, of him; that perception I have of him. He gets to see that anger that's inside of me and out there, in the ring, is where I take my frustrations out on him. Lannister thinks he's winning this match but I, on the other hand? Am not thinking I'm winning this match, no, I'm thinking of how BADLY I want to win this match. I want to win this match so badly that I'm willing to do whatever it takes, to Lannister, to the others. I'm willing to go to the lengths that I've never been to. I'm willing to go low like Lannister. Because that's how badly I want to win this match. The sheer thought of not winning this match IRKS me, it irks me so much that I hate the thought of it with every fiber of my being. What I do to Lannister, has no humaneness. Because there's nothing human about the steel structure that we're to be locked in, there's nothing humane about throwing each other into the steel, throwing each other back and forth between the rings, hurting each other to actually break a few bones, throwing the back of each other's heads into the steel and torturing each other with whatever. Lannister thinks he's going to dehumanize me but I'm going to show him that he's human like myself because he's going to bleed like I've bled. Look me in the eyes and tell me I'm lying. Tell me I'm bluffing but when I put you through the mat, face first, without much hesitation? Then what? Then what are you going to have to say? What excuses are you going to find after I've beaten you, pinned your shoulders to the mat and humiliated you? THEN WHAT? THEN WHAT'S LANNISTER'S LITTLE "DECREE?" THEN WHAT ABOUT YOUR CRIES, YOUR CRIES FOR ME TO END YOU, TO END WHAT SHOULD'VE ENDED SOME TIME AGO? Your cries will be met with short, breathless, whimpers.

I have little to no tolerance for the ones who keep running their mouths. I've heard just about everything there is to hear but that's what it is; talk and talk is cheap. No one can hold a candle to me. You talk with confidence because you can't fight the same way. You think you can get under my skin with what you've said to get the upperhand? I don't think so. As a matter of fact, I know so. I know, that when the bell rings and I'm looking at you from the other side of the ring, watching you and watching the rest of them... that what you've said, that their whispers and murmurs... mean nothing. In the ring, I'm much more relentless, whereas you? You're not that relentless, like you are with what you've said. Because you might be relentless with this attack but are you relentless out there, in the ring? Are you relentless like me? Or are you a coward, like the rest of them? You're actually standing on your own right now but are you going to be standing on your own at the end of the match? Are you going to be standing with the rest of them? Or are you going to be lying, on the mat, with them... body on top of body? You're not a coward like them though. You are like them though. Much like the ones that keep talking, without thinking. Lannister keeps acting, without thinking. I've seen what you can and can't do. You look for blood, that's what you're after. It's what you've been thinking about, is it not? When you first sight blood, not of another but of yourself, you don't get worried and go ballistic... you lick it up. Like how a cat cleans itself. You lick it up and crave more. You're thirsty for more blood and you don't care where who you have it to get it from, so long as you get it but I'm going to give it to you straight, Lannister --- you won't make me bleed. However, you'll be the one bleeding at the end of the match. There might even be a puddle of it for you to swim in. You'd like that and so would I. I'm a bird but I'm not wounded and I'm not going to get trapped in your hands. I'm going to be trapped inside of the steel structure but I'm not going to be trapped in your hands. I'm a bird, with my wings attached and I'm going to fly. You're not going to rip off my wings. You're not going to keep me down and you're not going to keep up with me. You're not going to have my head. Wounded though, is what you are. You're wounded and you've been wounded for some time. Open wounds; that's what it is and I'll widen them. I'll widen the open wounds and make sure that you're reminded of what I had done to you, like you're to remind me of what you've done to me. We have reminders of each other. Because we might not get back in the ring with each other and we'd be okay with that, with the scars we have on our bodies from each other, reminding us of what we've been through. Your scars, though, Lannister, will be permanent. Practically a part of you. I'd be a part of you. You said I've left my body behind but that couldn't be further from it, Lannister. See, I haven't left my body behind --- I've actually been thinking, unlike you. Because my body will suffice for your pathetic life.

Here lays, not Lannister's decree but the body... of Lannister.

Oasis...

It took me four days to muster up what it takes to even say this to you, but you are amazing. You are the reason why I love EAW. People like you are what keep me going. Every time I feel like I cannot be put to the test, people like you come in and defy my warnings of "Test Me Not" and come straight for the king. A lot of them miss, some don't even come close to their mark, a lot of them are naive arrogant fools who cannot compare to me. But you hit your mark. You are a marksman, a deadly sniper, a straight shooter.  You came for the head of God, and the brute strength you possess, the rage inside of you; I don't even know where it came from, I don't know how you managed to pull it off, but you've reached levels of strength and destructiveness I haven't seen in years. You made me feel the kind of pain I haven't felt in years. I could take another 75 foot fall from the Titantron all over again and that still wouldn't leave me in the condition you left me in on Dynasty three weeks ago, let alone Dynasty vs. Showdown. You have completely changed. You've undergone a transformation and morphed into the best version of "you" that I've ever seen, and you could not have done it at a more appropriate time. Had you brought the weaker, cowardly version of Scott Oasis into a fight with me, I would have broken you in half ten times over by now. But you're different now. You're half man, half machine gun, you're a high power assault rifle, you're a bushmaster, an AR 15, your brute strength comes in succession like bullets from an M16. Every blow you strike, every move you hit, it's bone jarring, and just one you think there's rest from one blow, the one follows up merely seconds later.

You are incredible, and I will give credit where credit is due.

It begs the question, however, is the credit I'm giving you truly warranted? Are you worthy of my praise?

Let me ask a more relevant question, should we respect the shooter? 

Because that's what you are. An assailant, an assassin, a marksman who leaves his mark riddled with bullets and unable to fend for themselves the way you did with Jacob Senn and I. But are you worthy of my respect?

And if you are, why? Why should we respect the shooter? Why, when the same bullet that took his enemy down could have just as easily taken him down?

I give credit to your brute strength in the literal sense, but as a general I don't measure strength by a menial exchange. I don't measure a war by a single battle. And I don't know if you understand fully the situation that you are in, but you are in war with a fucking five star general in the goddamned flesh. Douglas MacArthur mixed with George Marshall, I am the ace of martial matters. I am an all time, war time legend. The battlefield is my abode, I know every corner of every trench, every valley, and every space under every rock, I have left no stone unturned, and the battlefield goes on for miles, Scott. War goes on for miles. It can go on for days, weeks, months, years. It doesn't stop with a white flag. It ends in blood. The battlefield is mine, understand me? The only way you can have it is if you take it in blood. So yeah, you're a shooter, a pro, a prodigy, you're The Devil of Rahmadi, you're The White Death, you're Chris Kyle mixed with Carlos Norman Hancock, you're well fucking versed aren't you? You can SHOOT! YOU DON'T MISS! BUT I'LL ASK YOU AGAIN, WHY SHOULD WE RESPECT THE SHOOTER, WHEN THE SHOOTER IS JUST ANOTHER PAWN? THE MARKSMAN DOES NOT WIN THE WAR, AND YOU HAVE NEVER WON A WAR IN YOUR FUCKING LIFE, AND YOU HAVE NEVER ENTERED A WAR WITH THE LIKES OF ME. 

You still have a chance to back down, but you won't. I know you won't. That doesn't surprise me anymore. I try to give everyone a chance to surrender before they find themselves waist deep in the lake of fire, soon to be submerged; yet they willfully wander into the abyss every time, not knowing what lies ahead, not knowing what lurks in the abyss, unaware of the Monster that's been waiting for them, salivating over the taste of their flesh and blood. The Monster inside me hasn't consumed in quite a while. But to you, Scott, you're a champion. In your words, you're "fearless". You find solace in your fearlessness, it's how you salvage just a little bit of virtue in your bravado. But cognitive dissonance truly is a mother. Being fearness, yet having everything to fear, it's quite a paradox, isn't it!? That's why you choose to ignore the very real threat that I am to you. You rush headfirst into battle with the likes of me. You make an enemy out of the likes of me. But you have no idea, NO IDEA, that by initiating battle, YOU HAVE DECLARED WAR. NOT WITH A GOD OF WAR, BUT WITH A MAN WHO HAS ALREADY WON THE WAR OF GOD. I AM THE SOLE REMAINING FORCE NOW. EVEN IN TANGENTS SELF EXALTATION, OF ALL THOSE WHO SING THEIR OWN PRAISES, ONLY MY SONG OF SELF IMPORTANCE RINGS TRUE. I AM THE ONLY ONE WITH THE RIGHT TO BE CALLED KING. NO ONE ELSE. NOBODY ELSE. I AM THE MOST HIGH. 

But o, how even the most high can stoop so low and drag the likes of you to unforeseen depths. That's the duality of God and The Devil. That's the contrast between saint and sinner, and that's how these opposing forces work tandem handedly to turn the world we inhabit. I'm excited by you, Scott, because you've forced me out of my comfort zone. This isn't just another day at the office. I am being truly tested for the first time since Pain for Pride. I want to thank you for at least that much. You have my utmost gratitude. And I know it seems like not much can faze you. I know you're a man with ice water running through his veins. But what happens when the Man of Ice is swallowed whole by the fires below? What happens when the Man of Ice decides to fly just a bit too close to the sun? What happens, when I take the same thing that gave you strength and make it your weakness? 

I suppose, if you want to continue this losing battle, you're left with two options. Reach the summit and lose your wings, or plummet into the wings of hell.

Hahahahahahahaha. Choose wisely. 

TERRITORIAL INVASION PROMO #3
 
[At the OMERTA headquarters, Zack sits casually at his desk, using an ornate looking letter to pick at the dirt under his fingernails.  By all accounts he doesn’t appear to be expecting anyone or even prepared to do a promo.  So he is genuinely surprised when he sees a camera crew inside his office with a rolling camera trained on him.  He turns to the crew and gives a polite wave.]
 
Zack Crash:  Oh hey guys.  How’s it going?
 
[Zack returns to picking at his nails with the letter opener.  There is a soft mumbling from someone off screen, and Zack turns to acknowledge them again.]
 
Oh really?  Tyler responded? 
 
[Zack thinks this over for a second…then simply shrugs.]
 
Cool.
 
[He then runs to picking at his nails with the letter opener.  The mumbling returns, more insistent this time.  Zack groans in frustration.]
 
Uggggh!  Fine give me the damn transcript.
 
[A hand pops into frame and hands Zack a short stack of papers.  Zack takes them and casually shuffles through them.  He talks to himself as his eyes scan quickly from side to side.]
 
Alright let’s see what we got.  Ok…interesting…uh-huh…hmmmm…
 
[This goes on for a while until Zack finally reaches the end of the transcript.  He nonchalantly tosses the papers off screen and his hand goes to pick up the letter opener, when the mumbled voice from before returns, speaking very urgently.  Zack rolls his eyes and says…]
 
Fine!  I’ll respond to his damn promo!  You know I don’t pay you to annoy me!
 
[Zack takes a moment to compose himself, making sure his suit is prim and proper.  Folding his hands in front of him on his desk, and looking incredibly bored, he begins.]
 
Ok first off, let me start by saying that Tyler originally, I wasn’t going to acknowledge your presence in this match at all if I had my way.  But my advisors told me I should do my “obligation” to the match and talk about all of you at least once.  If I had known it was going to evoke such a strong reaction out of you I probably wouldn’t have bothered.  Because now my advisors are all concerned, telling me I really need to respond again, and blah blah blah.  I tell them they worry too much, but that’s what I pay them for, so here I am wasting my time on you when I have more important things to be thinking about.
 
[Zack looks at his fingers, trying to see if he got all the dirt or not.]
 
But let me promise you that I don’t care about you being in this match, or any of the other members of Team Ryder for that matter.  The rest of you are just after thoughts to me.  You’re nothing but insignificant details; just technicalities that were required to be filled in order for this match to even happen.  My only concern in this match is the further humiliation and destruction of Matty Ryder.  You and your fellows just happened to be innocent victims in a war that isn’t your concern.  But really that’s your own fault isn’t it?  You of all people should know what you’re getting into by siding with Matty against me.  After all, you’ve been on the receiving end of it twice before remember?  I’d say you do remember, and after listening to you rant and rave about it, I’d say I hit the mark rather well when I used the word bitter.  But is that what’s bothered you all these years.  Has wittle, itty-bitty Tyler Parker been sad that he didn’t get a thank you?  Oh I’m so sorry.  Here let me make it up to you right now.
 
[Zack reaches into his desk, rummages around until he finds what he’s looking for.  He pulls out a blue ribbon with the words “Participation Award” written in gold font across it.  He presents it to the camera.]
 
Here ya go.  I, Zachary Crashington The Third, as a thank you to Tyler Parker for his help in a War Games match years ago, do present to him now the “Participation Award”.
 
[Zack laughs cruelly, then tosses the ribbon off camera.  Suddenly he stops laughing, and his face is marked with the same smug, yet intense look we’ve come to know from him.]
 
It’s hard to take you seriously as a threat when you bitch like a rookie about not getting a thank you for being on my team two years ago.  First of all, don’t bitch at me just because I outsmarted and tricked you.  If you were half the competitor you think you are you’d have used that instance to better your own skills instead of crying in the corner.  Secondly, you were every bit as dissatisfied with DDD’s Chairmanship as I and the rest of the team was, so don’t act like you didn’t have a stake in that match.  In fact why are you even still talking about that match anyway?  It’s two years old Tyler…TWO YEARS!!!  God you’re starting to sound like Jacob Senn.  Seriously…get over it!  Instead I choose to focus on the present instead of yesterday, which is probably why you are nearly as relevant as you used to be.  You claim that nobody cares about me, which I find funny since I appear to be public enemy #1 around here.  Call me crazy, but I would think that means people care a great deal about me and what I do.  What about you though?  When was the last time anyone cared about Tyler Parker?  Ever since you came back from your scandal you’ve been trying to recapture that former prestige you held, which I’m willing to bet is why you decided to join Team Ryder in the first place.  Like a parasite, you figured you’d leech off the controversy, exposure, and attention OMERTA is generating for yourself in order to get some much needed attention.  You’re pretty much just here to say “I’m Mr. Parker!  Look at me!”  But there’s a problem with inserting yourself into a fight that originally had nothing to do with you.  Eventually the consequences of the original war coming crashing down on your head as well.  If you had stayed out of this, your career could’ve died a relatively painless death.  Now however, I’m afraid I’m going to have to make yet another example out of you.  I’m going to use you and the other members of Team Ryder as an example of what happens to those who come to the aid of OMERTA’s enemies.  I’m going to show everyone on Showdown that anyone who tries to play the hero against OMERTA is going to die a hero’s death.  Only there won’t be anything glorious or noble about what we do to you.  All your talk about revenge, about ripping out my soul and heart, and yada yada yada.
 
[Zack yawns very noticeably.]
 
It’s all very cute.  But really it doesn’t mean anything.  For threats to be effective, they have to be believable Tyler.  And to be perfectly honest, I just don’t think you’re capable of doing any of the things you said.  But everyone knows I’m capable of doing all the things I say.  I said I was going to take over EAW, and I did it.  I said I was going to burn Matty alive, and I did it.  I say I’m going to win at Territorial Invasion…and I’m going to do it.  With the help of my team, who will hopefully take care of you before I even have to touch you in that ring Tyler.  You call it cowardice, but really it’s the fact that wrestling you nowadays is beneath me, and I don’t wish to risk getting your stink on my career.  Like any true leader, I relegate the lesser stuff to those under me while I focus on what’s important.  And in this match Tyler…you are not important.  You’re like the accessory to a kid’s favorite toy.  He doesn’t want you, and as soon as he opens up that Kung-Fu grip G.I. Joe, you can be sure as hell he’ll forget about you or lose you.  In fact I’m going to tell you a secret.  When Ryan Marx replaced Cyclone and I was trying to remember who all was on his team, for a while there I actually forgot you were on one of them.  Wow right?  It’s almost as if you’ve left little to no impact on this match whatsoever.  Some keep talking if you want; waste your breath and my time if that’s what makes you feel important.  To me it’s all white noise.  As you said, I know what you can do and you know what I can do.  Because of that, you should by now when you and I are in the ring which one comes out on top.  When I was tag team champion, you and Synergy tried to take the belts, but you failed.  When I was World Champion you tried to take the belt, but you failed.  Even when we were fighting together at War Games years ago, you still came out on the worse end for it.  That’s the story of your career Tyler.  You try hard and put up a great effort, but when it really counts, when push comes to shove, you fall just short of that finish line.  You’re a choke artist.  Always have been and always will be.  So why should War Games III be any different?  I could go on and on, but as of right now I’m getting bored even talking about you, so before I pass out I’m going to make everything very simple and easy to understand for you.         
 
Team Crash is going to win at Territorial Invasion, so I hope you’re ready for history to repeat itself yet again.  So the bitter taste in your mouth, you better get used to it
 
[Zack stands up from his desk, placing his hand over his heart as he does, looking proud and determined.]
 
In OMERTA We…
 
[Zack thinks about it for a moment, then sits back down and does a dismissive gesture toward the camera.]
 
Ahh forget it.  You’re not worth it.
 

[Fade to black.]  

Lannister sees you are so quick to go through the stage of denial and plunge into the sea of recollection of your accomplished past. The dreams of what once was, the ideals of nevermore... it all comes rushing back like a crashing wave, doesn't it? Lannister may not be a psychologist, but Lannister sees the trauma this industry has put you through. You leave off the impression that you wear your battle scars as a sense of pride, yet your hypocrisy is just so sincere. This delusion breeds false impressions, so Lannister won't feed deeper into this feeding frenzy. Just look at the wounded bird you have become ever since your fall from grace. Mistrust is a wounded beast of its own, but when the mistrust is within you? Well, that's simply the cold piercing through your orphaned soul. Parker, it is time to face what is bare: that your time has gone astray. Tell Lannister, Parker, for this world you have "built", what is left of the rubble you have caused? Lannister has seen you from afar - but only from afar. It's hard for Lannister to get close when a man like yourself, is notorious for burning every bridge he's come to know. Why is it so Parker, that the tables have seemingly turned on you? This change of perception - this vicious cycle you have created has only led you to channeling your own despair. Lannister knows you are a man of many enemies, who has condemned within the consequences. To put simply, your reason to feed that egocentric tirade of yours has expired.

Lannister knows you are polluted with pride, and with such high stakes on the platter - Lannister is not expecting a break from this cycle. But escape from this shell you have entered, you cannot. Because you don't know how. Your strength has betrayed your best interests when you needed them most. You don't know how to flee, you only know how to attack. And when you try to combat what is coming for you, Lannister will surely be the one with blood on his blade. You continue to fault into Lannister's trap, either it be of the mind or direction you wish to take. However, the mind games just aren't fun anymore, as in your last tape, it came apparent that Lannister stripped you and your words of all meaning. You've been gagged by the man that defines judgment. Lannister breathes the words, and they become your echo chamber. Are you forgetting the connection with the source, from the words you spill? You can't seem to break the idea of being a relentless nature of force from your inner thoughts, nor Lannister's coined phrase of your attraction to the thrill of attention. Don't see the shame in such a realization, for Lannister's willful wisdom surely catches the tongue of others. Your surroundings have conditioned you to mimic Lannister's very tone, very entity. Perhaps it is envy that is behind your motives, as it has become apparent that Lannister is everything you resent. Isn't that so, Parker? The man with unspeakable, unparalleled physical gifts. Lannister can only try his absolute best not to offend, but there is just this urge to not pretend. For every inch you clawed for, for every scratch, was a step process that Lannister was able to skip. So in a sense, you can say, Lannister is a scar that you simply cannot itch, because Lannister himself is a memory and embodiment of everything you had to earn. You stated how Lannister needs to earn your judgment, earn the moment of your time. But really, that's not what this is all about, now is it? Lannister became the symbol of power within his first year within this company, while you took the better half of a decade to stake your claim in this industry. Lannister doesn't owe you jack, least of which the process that you had to take.

You see, Lannister is just simply a man of a different breed. Look into these eyes, hear the tone of this message. Do you really think Lannister is at a world of hurt for the recent shadows of doubt that crept in? Are you that naive to believe that Lannister is the same fractured design that has led you down this spiral? Why of course not, Tyler Parker - for Lannister is not subjected to the same forces at hand. The chaos of it all boils down to theory. Look at the concept in a different shade, for not everything in this world is meant to be affiliated with your comprehension. Perspective often times get lost in moments of great opportunity. So allow Lannister to carve this message into your skull at Territorial Invasion to serve as a daily reminder of what happens when your ambition leads you one step too close to the edge.

Don't dare, and mess with this vibe, triumph in the anthem to Lannister's battlecry. Your cries will only be heard in vain. Lannister has come in like a freight train, and you just happen to be the first one aboard on for the ride. This is the high octane, Tyler Parker... the reckless abandon that you used to know. Lannister is the word of thunder, but the lightning that strikes you down. Lannister has been telling EAW for the longest of times, that a storm is coming. And Lannister oh Lannister, how the storm has come. Here comes the light of dawn, the type that bends landscape beyond the imagination. There will be no surface beneath the feet of those who come in contact with such a powerful storm. Every sky may need a ground below... but like Lannister said, there are forces beyond the will of nature that Lannister tends to live by. The heavens won't open up, because this is far beyond your imagination of the senses of life. But Lannister hopes that you are indeed, this godly figure that you portray yourself to be. Lannister welcomes the story of the sky and the forces that are held within it. But with such a request, Lannister knows it will only be the raindrops that he will see fall. There is no death from above... just clouds. Which is just a microcosm of what you are about - a clouded memory of what used to be.

There is an ascending fog, clogging your stubborn, set ways. You can half-ass this hype all you like, depending on your stature to fall back upon. But really, these are just words that you will come to choke upon, a punishment for not being able to fulfill the commitment tied to them. Because you no longer possess the fighting bone in your body required to match Lannister's might. Because through this mist of the unclear night that is your story arc, comes the tangled labyrinth known as this Game of War. And at Territorial Invasion, Lannister is the only one who will muster the strength and put an entire army on his back. And with this storm to come, will be the flood of these suppressed emotions that you've hidden away in the back of your mind. The fears that you have been neglecting all along. But the simple matter of it, is, you have already left your body behind. Getting lazier by the day, venturing into this habitual fantasy that your work still supplies dog eat dog. Like Lannister said before, you are not the alpha dog that this world once knew. But alas, here you are, caught in the midst of denial, that Lannister is one of the men that has passed on by, in this dawn of the new era. You're such a perfectly self-manufactured man, Parker. It's just a shame that it boils down to being the only firm believer in this universal conundrum you have created. Lannister knows of your ways, the keen interest to spread lies just to raise the quality of your own life. The poison has foamed in your mouth for far too long as is, and oh how it has ever begun to spill over. And at Territorial Invasion, your motives will have been exhausted by the one they call Lannister. For Lannister has no bounds, no chains to break from - free from his past, marveled in its decay, even. For Lannister's silhouette of temptations have been laid out by now. Craving or not, Lannister will see to it that the will of five men crumble to his very feet. It isn't the motive that burns, but it is the one that bleeds. And Lannister will see to it that this new manifest dynasty that Lannister has embarked on, will be the one remnant you take from this crushing blow.

But allow Lannister to slow this restless pace, for it appears the others have been lost in the shuffle. It appears this design has left the remaining pieces tripping over the fragile line.  So let the wax harden, and let the gaps of this penetrating hole serve as your indictment to the flailing expectations. You might not want to blink again, as it has become apparent that what stands before you is a mountain that still needs climbing. Yet... all you have to stand on, are pillars of salt, and pillars of sand. You may come Lannister's way, but do know there is a price to pay. You are cutting into Lannister's time now, as you have served yourself unfit to eat at Lannister's table. Matt Ryder, the false commander. Ryan Marx, the lost prophet. Lioncross, the apprehensive scheme. Chris Elite, the body yet to be seen. It appears these men have leaned on the diluted and perfectly flawed Tyler Parker to hold the torch into battle, carrying the flame. A disaster in wait. But come on, have no fear, the next shot is on the house! Bet with house money, if you must, just as long as you serve Lannister a hand at the table. Just do keep in mind, regardless how the fray will come to unfold, the HOUSE ALWAYS WINS.

HOUSE LANNISTER, IN FACT.

ALLES FUR LANNISTER... LANNISTER... LANNISTER!

“You of all people should know better than to say that you don’t fear me, or that you don’t think that others find me amusing.” Eclipse stated as the camera swept to the basement of the Sanatorium’s household. A figure, cloaked in a tarp, chest exposed to the world. The movement of it seems to promote that they are still alive, if only just. From the darkness the sound of clinking metal can be heard as Eclipse moves away from the shadows, a pair of scalpels in his hands. He placed them onto the figures chest, listening to them writhe as they tugged at the chains that held their hands and feet to the table. His eyes moved away from the figure straight ahead of him, as if looking past the atrocity he was committing, to the heart of what he was going to say. His eyes showed a glint of predator like focus before they lightened, and a smile carved its way along his face slowly.

“You of all people should know that I am a force to be feared. Not only have you tasted defeat by me, once before, when I was still a fledgling in the failed experiment of the self professed Icon, JJ Silva, but you tasted defeat again. This time it was for the crown that I wear proudly upon my head. The crown that for the rest of the world signifies me as king. A title you claim I created for myself. A title that the rest of the world gave to me. That is a world that was created for me. That’s how they ensnare you, Lucian. And believe it or not, you have let them ensnare you. You have let yourself be trapped inside of this little box of yours, this box that says to the world that you are the top dog. But you are on a very short chain, Lucian. You bark and snap at everything, but your master will only let you out to attack those that he sees fit. And he isn’t smart to let you snap and bark at me, he isn’t wise to let you off this chain and run against me, Lucian. This is your end. This is the time for you to wake up from this beautiful and idyllic dream you have of our sick and twisted world. This world is not kind. This world is not a beautiful world where you can stand on a pedestal constructed for you by a puppet master, and proclaim that you are the master of your own fate, this isn’t that world, Lucian. This, is my world. The world that I have shown everyone that has ever stepped foot against me in the ring. A world where the boots of the rich, press down on the necks of the wanting. A world where people like you, who have the look and the ideal appearance of a champion, can stay as a champion. You realize that don’t you? That deep down you aren’t this warrior, bedecked in armor...you are a simple footsoldier, bedecked in robes by the emperor of our beloved brand. Oh, I haven’t forgotten Sebastian Monroe’s interferences in matches you have had. Sure. It was one maybe, but it still sticks out doesn’t it. He wanted to protect his little poster child. The one that he feels deserves that title. He can’t protect you from me, Lucian. No one can.”

He traced the chest underneath him once again, his eyes filled with that same predatory glint he had when he first laid his eyes on Lucian’s title. He turned his gaze towards the table, lifting up one of the scalpels and gliding it smoothly across the skin of the figure under the tarp. They let out a muffled scream as they writhed, causing him to cut across his chest and pull the scalpel away. His eyes showed frustration and he clenched the scalpel harder as he pressed his  free hand to the neck of the tarped figure, carving in deeper and deeper until he had formed a cross like incision into the skin. His eyes traced along the marking, checking each incision before he set down the first scalpel. He slid his hands under the folds of the cuts, a smile creasing his lips as he lifted the skin flaps, the figure screaming in pain. The skin fell easily, pulled away from their position to reveal muscle fiber underneath the flesh. As well as muscle lay the rib cage. Open. Exposed. Vulnerable. Protecting what he wanted to find.

“I have a little bit of trivia to tell you Lucian. Trivia that will teach you a lesson about yourself, and about what you have found yourself into. See...a greek physician, named Hippocrates, believed that what governed our world, both us as humans and the world outside of it, are temperaments. You would know them later as elements, but these were far more advanced than just earth, fire, water, and air. These were also the guiding emotions of our lives, as well as our very organs and bodily fluids. Now, the temperaments and the ‘humors’ as they called them, are a little different but for the sake of our trivia and your time we will talk about them both as equals shall we. I know you aren’t in the mood for any real lesson that I tell you, so this will be as best as I can say. Understand? The humor I want to talk about, is perhaps the sweetest and most jovial. Sanguine. This is the humor of Blood, the very life force of us as humans. Sanguine, representing air and spring, fits into the idea of carefree, jovial, happy. Playful. Something that I tend to mix with...childish. Such as the childish insults that people have thrown at me over my career. Do I address them? Not typically. They are childish insults, and why should the twitterings of ants effect an elephant? Still, as this title match is possibly the most important match of my career I feel I should say something about a few of these insults. To start with, the luring little kids crack again. A joke that has been disproved over, and over, and over again.

I do not lure children. I am not a pedophile. Sex is a sacred thing to me Lucian, and the act of defiling the bodies of the innocent...disgusts me just as much as it would you. I do not lure anyone to my home, they come willingly. I rescue children. I keep them safe from the horrors that would be inflicted upon them in this world that wants to consider every parent a holder of the humor of Sanguine. They are safe with me. Here, they have a home. They have a family. A chance at life and once they are grown, they are free to leave and do as they wish, or they can stay and help save others. It is their choice. Perhaps that should have been done for you. What was your past like Lucian? How were you raised I wonder? Was it spare the rod and you spoil the child, Lucian? Were you expected of things that you could never achieve? Did the bruises heal? Can you sometimes still smell your father’s beer stained breath as he lashed into you with fists and belt and whatever he had on hand? Or was it an idyllic family situation? Did mother and father with good moral standards and decency? Were you the kind of kid that got his pictures put up on the fridge Lucian? I want to know...I want to know if I can expect to see your parents face in the crowds as I let their boy drown in the essence of Sanguine, in his own blood.

That leads me to something else you like to say Lucian. You called me a pig. Now, I know you didn’t mean this one to talk about my weight but you’ve made so many jokes on it I thought I should mention it. I think it’s adorable. Even that little song you posted which is from My Little Pony, how in the world you found it is up for debate but apparently Pinkie Pie is your favorite pony. I digress. The fact of the matter is, it is there and it is noticeable isn’t it Lucian? I’m a bit hefty, on the husky side if you will. The thing is, that’s never stopped me. I’ve gone off the top rope, being my size. I’ll do suicide dives at my size. My size isn’t an obstacle. What is an obstacle for you Lucian? Is it physical? I know your punches land softer with your left hand, because you are right handed. You can’t get your leg high enough for a proper big boot, probably do to multiple moves that damage your lower spine. Your spear is strongest when you are at a full running charge, but your momentum will carry you onward even if I move. I memorize what people can do in the ring against me, and I’ve studied up on you since our last encounter, Mastodon. I know you physically. Your every move can be calculated. Your punches are numbers to me. How many can I take before I fall? And from how you talk, I don’t think you have calculated what I can do to you. You are confident. Confidence is good. It can lead to victories, Lucian. You know what else confidence leads to? Foolishness. You rush into confrontation blindly. Your head leads the way and your heart refuses to accept that you might be destroyed if you continue this reckless path. Your heart doesn’t want to admit that you don’t know the outcome. That you aren’t going to win. That you are going to drown in the basest of all emotions. Your fear. You can deny it all you want Lucian, but you can’t fool me.”

He tapped his blood soaked fingers against his head before pointing back to the exposed rib cage. His left hand reached out, taking hold of a small object. A common household hammer. He twirled it in his hands, the blood soaking the wooden handle as he stared down at it. He placed the metal against one of the ribs before looking back up, towards where he perceived Lucian.


“Did you know that the greeks believed all blood came from the liver? That is the source of Sanguine. The very driving force of our lifestream. They were wrong of course, but I wanted to give you some education. Do you know how many pounds of pressure it take to shatter a rib? Depends on which one, but just around 25 pounds if the rib is exposed. That’s in square inches...and I have a metal hammer. So...what do you think I can do with this?”

He slammed the hammer hard, listening to the splintering of bone as the tarped figure screamed in agony before his voice was silenced. Passing out due to the shock. Eclipse seemed to dislike this, his brow furrowing as he gripped at another rib. His hands clenched around the bone, listening to it splinter before it fully snapped off, and he tossed it aside. His body seemed ready to frenzy against the carcass before he reached into the chest, grasping at a long fleshy object and lifting it up, tearing it away from the rest of the organs as the figure began to convulse and shake, his hands tightening into gnarled fingers.

“This...this...liver...is Sanguine. This is where they believed your childish nature comes from Lucian. This is what I will crush and destroy at Territorial invasion. No safety. No savior. I am going to kill your innocence of this world. With one blow, I...the king...shall tear away the Face of EAW, and reveal to the world the sad and hideous truth. That this world needs me...and not ‘honor bound heroes’ like yourself. Lucian. You have the chance. Fear me and survive.”