AGGRESSION 64: Impulse (c)/Mahogany (c)/Dragons (cc) vs. Stalker/Anarky/Rezin/Winters

[Justin]

And now, a word from your esteemed Television Champion...

“Here’s what I think, right off’a the top’a my head.”

[Up.]

“You pipsqueaks have been spending entirely too much time saying the same exact things to each other over and over and over and over again.”

[Rich Mahogany, the Cock of the Walk as it were, sits lazily in a pool-chair, directly in front of an Empire Pro backdrop. A small tray table sits beside him, but we’ll get to that in a minute. The only thing that you really need to understand is that the Empire Pro Television Title belt is propped in his lap, leaning against his lower-torso, and covering his free-swinging dong.]

Rich:
I mean, and maybe I’m the odd man out here, but you people may have unhealthy obsessions with either yourselves or each other. Seriously, guys, get a girlfriend, get a hooker, get a friggin’ Fleshlight if that’s what it takes, just get off of each other’s Johnson’s.

Please?

It’s gettin’ a little gay in here.

And that’s not to say that ol’ Rich ain’t down for a gool old fashioned Devil’s Three-Way, and WHAT HAPPENS AT THE HO-JO STAYS AT THE HO-JO, but a full on Sword Fight at the Sausage Festival?

Hellz naw, son, hellz naw.

[Now, back to that tray-table.]

Rich:
Now that that’s out of the way, let me do the professional thing here and mention my opponents for the upcoming Aggression 64. I’ll start with Rezin.

[Rich reaches down and retrieves a small pyrex “adult novelty” smoking apparatus. There are colorful swirls, and glass-blown into the shape of tits, it’s all very Rich Mahogany. He also picks up a small grinder and starts grinding.]

Rich:
Dude. Seriously.

[He opens the grinder and sprinkles a bit of bright green material into the glass boob shaped smoking apparatus, hereto be known as “the pipe” for the rest of this promo.]

Rich:
I got a guy, he can get you some THC Snow, it’s a new variation of White Widow, for four-hundred bucks an ounce. It’ll get your head right, man, and you’ll quit coughing up that brown lumpy stuff all the time. Also your breath will smell better.

But then, you’re kinda broke, huh...

[He takes a good long toke, holds it for as long as possible, and coughs it up like a little girl within seconds. After he hacks and sputters for a while, he scratches his chin thoughtfully.]

Rich:
I could probably just cut you some out of my personal.

Twenty bucks a gram.

Can you dig it?

[Completely stoned, he sets the pipe down and reaches for a cigarette. Virginia Slim Light 120s if you’re the curious sort.]

Rich:
And don’t even get me started on Anarky.

Dude, we get it. You’re a big bad scary man. My knees are totally quakin’ guy. [he rolls his eyes] What you really are is a confused little boy in a grown fella’s body, struggling to find his way in the big bad world.

You suck at wrestling.

You suck at fighting.

You suck at talking.

You pretty much just suck at existing.

Why don’t you either figure out the business you’re in, or get out of it. Is it the paydays keeping you around? I mean, I know former champions can make like five hundo a night on the indy-circuit. Yanno, since you don’t care about The Empire or it’s legacy, or anything else like that.

Why don’t you just call Bumfights?

Wouldn’t you feel a little bit more at home fighting in the streets for a maggot-covered bone in some back alleyway while hobos give each other blowjobs for what passes for crack on the streets these days? I mean, because you don’t care about anything and all.

Why don’t you get out of my wrestling ring?

Ya know what? Better yet, why don’t you bring all’a that faux rage at me in the ring and watch me as I kick you in the nuts, jab you in the eyeball, roll you up with a handfull of tights and prop my feet up on the ropes, and send your skinny jeans wearing ass right back to the front of the line at the pay window to pick up your share of the losers’ purse?

Again.

You remind me of this guy I once met in this ****hole I got fired from named Joe the Plumber. Except you know, without the legions of ravenous fans, undefeated streak, semblance of marketability or backing from the front office.

[Shrug.]

Rich:
It must be awesome to have a history to use as a crutch.

[Wink.]

[The Hand that Robs the Cradle smiles his zillion dollar smile.]

Rich:
Which brings me to contestant number three, Layne Winters.

…

I legit didn’t know who you were until like forty minutes ago. I googled you on my Android and all it came up with was “Second Greatest Empire TV Champion of all time,” so I was all like “pssh, he must be some wrestler.”

I hope you don’t think you’re coming back to EPW to pick up wherever you left off, which I guess was at the TV Title, because a few things have changed around here since you’ve been gone, most specifically the fact that RICH MOTHER-EFFIN’ MAHOGANY is the be-all end-all of the Television Title, and everybody else is just living in Stalker’s World.

[Shudder.]

Rich:
And speaking of Mr. Reeves, if I may be so presumptuous as to call you that, sir, I just want to go on record as saying that I have absolutely zero issues with you and your quest for the World Title. A nobler quest could hardly be dramatized...

As a matter of fact, if on your way to said title, you wanted to stack up Karl Brown, Otaku, and Impulse in a neat little pile, pin them all, and take all of their belts up the mountain with you, I’d be all for that. Just...

Do me a solid, wouldja?

Stay the hell away from me and the TV Title.

And I promise I won’t get scared and pee on you on accident.

Please?

[A somber moment passes.]

Rich:
And as far as my esteemed partners go...

If you guys could just line up, get on board with the master plan, and keep these mongoloids from ganging up on me to try to take what’s mine away from me, that’d be peaches, mmkay?

And try not to make me look bad in the process.

It’s not good for my image with The Ladies.

[Another Cheshire smile.]

[Rich takes a final drag from the cigarette.]

[Fade to pink.]

 

[User Poets]

And now for something completely different

No scene or scenery, no frills or extras.

No more messing around.

"Stalker forgot a few things."

"I don't do my own laundry, I can't cook, and I double dip my chips."

"Two years ago, my Valentine's Day started at six AM after being up all night, in a diner with a drunken gay man and two drunken lesbians. It doesn't say much for my family values, does it?"

"And I couldn't protect the woman I love from being put through a table by two born again Christian types from the Sweetwater Windham Church."

"One question, Stalker... what does any of this have to do with what I've done so far - and what I'm going to do - in the ring?"

I think it's fair.

 

[Justin]

Re: And now for something completely different

[Rich.]

Rich: *ahem*
I don't think you were paying attention. This is about me now. Take your fully-characterized ideals, fold them up, put them in your pocket, and start talking about me.

SRSLY

[F2B]

 

[Stalker]

Monsters

(An audio clip airs.)

Mann: "He had a nightmare when he was five. A monster was chasing him, I said there was no such thing. He fell asleep in my arms, I held him there looking down at his face. I fell in love with him that night."

Assistant: "That's a nice memory."

Mann: "The night I fell in love with my son I lied to him.... There are monsters." -- Donald Mann (Portrayed by Gene Simmons, Series: Third Watch)

(The blackness dissolves into an EPW backdrop, Jason Reeves is standing in front of it. He's finally out of the scumbag motel room he's been in this entire week.)

Stalker: A great quote from a well scripted villain. Sadly for you Impulse, this isn't a TV show. This is reality, the reality being that you stepped into my world once again. How's that worked out for you so far? First time you lost in the KOTC tournament. Second time... well that was just me sending a message. You and your slut of a girlfriend got in my way.

You should probably thank your lucky stars that Dan Ryan showed up to that scene when he did. If he didn't and The First's ankle got shattered, you would've been next. Thinking you can run your mouth about me? ME? Of all people? Where the f*ck do you think you get the right to do that?

This whole back and forth we've had, it's meaningless. When I get tagged into that ring and face off against you, i'm going to crush you. Then after I pin your worthless ass to the mat, I'm going to crush you some more.

If I have my way, which frankly I don't see anyone being able to stop me, you will be nothing more then a wheelchair bound b*tch. How long is Rose going to stick around when she finds out you are useless? Won't even be able to bring in a paycheck.

See you brought it to this point, I hope you realize that.

(He pauses to run his hand through his long hair. Revealing yet again just how brutalized his face has been for the past five years.)

Stalker: Animezing Dragons are scared **** less of me, because they know... oh trust me they know what I am capable of. The fact that it's not a two on one advantage for them makes useless partners for you. Rich Mahogany? Gotta admit as much as I dislike him, I have no issues with him yet. The fact that he wants to stay away from me? Well that just proves my point.

My team? Does it even matter? Any of them would stab me in the back given the chance, just as I would to them. I've gone through alliances and so called friendships before, it's never stuck. Blame it on me, blame it on them, none of it matters. I am finally at a point right now where I can truly have a good time with what I am doing.

I've got my title shot when I want it, and now I want your head. It will be a nice addition to my collection.

If you ever have kids, Impulse... what are you going to say to them about monsters? Will you lie to your son? Tell him that monsters don't exist? Or will you tell him about the one that you encountered? The one who ruined your life?

Once you are in my world, there is no escape from monsters.

See you at Aggression.

(Static.)

 

[EpyonMarx]

[FADE IN to “The Dragon” and Otaku standing in front of an Empire Pro Wrestling backdrop, tag team titles around their waists. Otaku is wearing a costume of Unit 01 from Evangelion, complete with mask, while “The Dragon” is dressed as if he were about to head toward the ring]

Karl: It’s been a fun back and forth for this one, hasn’t it? Despite the best attempts of Rich and Stalker, it’s not been the overblown ego-fest it could have been. I’m sure the match itself will see plenty of blind tags, people getting in each other’s ways, partners unable to work together the entire match, but so far, it’s been relatively civil. As civil as Rich, Stalker, and Anarky can ever be.

Before I get onto them, though, I want to mention Rezin. A man who’s been on Empire Pro screens almost as long as me, give or take about an hour between me beating Mike Diamond and the Crimson Calling beating Blitz. I liked the Christian Sands reference, though you underestimated Christian with it.

I accept what you say, Rezin (and I’ll call you that since it’s what you want to be known as it seems), about the current crop of stars here, the Stalkers, Anarky’s, Rich Mahogany’s of this world. They wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for people like myself, you, Cameron Cruise. I remember back in the early days, we were seen as the company most likely to fall out of the three that took to the screens. It took a lot of hard work, and a lot of people fell by the wayside, to build Empire Pro up to what it became. But, you know something, Rezin? You’re wrong about there being a need to destroy Empire Pro. You’re wrong about me being a last remnant of a Golden Age. Because Empire Pro has never been about a Golden Age. Yeah, I get nostalgic for the days when JA came down to actually give me a match for the Intercontinental Championship. I get a little teary-eyed when I remember the people I’ve wrestled who’ve moved on or retired, the likes of Troy Douglas, Tyrone Walker, Foxx. But I look at the people here today, most of them older than I am since I’m not even 30 yet, and I see a continuation. Sure, The First doesn’t have an original idea in his head with the whole Dis thing. Sure, I got over by simply going out and winning matches against whoever was put in front of me and I didn’t put myself over anyone’s head. But you’ve got the same kind of people today as you had then.

The schemers – Rocko Daymon, Christian Sands, Troy Windham, Joey Melton. They’ve been replaced with Stalker and The First. The never say die attitude that people like myself and Troy Douglas had, I see in Otaku and Impulse. The “Screw Dan Ryan” attitude of Marcus, Stalker has in spades. The respect people like JA and Adam had, I see in most of the roster. The noisy ones, not so much. But this place has only grown. At its heart, it’s still the same Empire Pro Wrestling that started back in 2004 when I beat Mike Diamond. It’s a place where you can weasel your way into a title match, sure. But you can’t keep a title long here by weaselling alone, unlike so many other places.

You say I deserved more. There’s only one thing more that I could do, and to be honest, if you follow Stalker’s logic, I’ve already done more than that.

[Otaku mutters, his jaw clamped shut by the hard plastic on the mask]

Karl: Yes, it was a nice segue. Rezin, if you listen to Stalker, then because he lasted a few minutes against Otaku and I, he’s better than both of us. So, let’s look at history, combine his logic with your statement about me deserving more, and look at reality in Stalker’s World.

Christian Sands beat me after the lights came down, when I had him pinned. Lindsay’s shoulders were down when the TV time limit ran out. Sean Stevens had to use the ropes to beat me. I’ve beaten Joey Melton, pinned JA twice, pinned Rocko, and pinned Marcus. The only two World Champions I’ve not beaten, one I’ve never faced, and the other is Anarky. So, but Stalker’s logic… I’ve already done everything. Three former World Champions I took to the limit. Two, circumstance intervened. One had to break the rules. Four, I beat. Seven out of nine world champions.

I think that equals a world title reign, doesn’t it? In Stalker’s World, I mean.

Oh, sorry, Stalker. I didn’t mean to point out a massive logical hole in a poor attempt to make Rezin realise that we have a difference of opinion. Rezin probably knows me well enough to know we’ll always have a difference of opinion, same as I know he’ll come out and fight for what he believes in.

But honestly, Stalker, is the best you can come up with now a few scant words towards Impulse? Is the only thing you can think to claim about Otaku and I that we took a few minutes to win a match, and that somehow makes you better than the two of us? It’s history. The world is built upon history, and Stalker’s World, as long as it’s been claimed as existing, is built upon history. But history is not the future. One result in this company does not make every future result a certainty. Or did you forget that?

Sorry. I forgot, you were trying to belittle Otaku and I.

Not that I’m surprised, Stalker. You’ve been doing the same thing for years, saying things would be easy because something had been easy. I’d’ve thought Kin would’ve put that out of your head a few years back, but I guess not.

Let me guess. You’re going to win this match so easily, you won’t break a sweat, and then you’re going to show the winner of the main event what Stalker’s World really means?

Pity. Because whenever I’ve seen Stalker’s World, I’ve been reminded of someone called X. Rezin’ll get that reference. X had a similar mentality to you. His first act, actually, was hitting myself and Stephen Waltz with a chair. His second was facing me in a chain match which he lost. The only real thing you’ve had over him is longevity, Stalker. Sure, you’re both tough. But you also have this delusion that it’s your world, and we’re merely living in it through your good graces.

Alas, poor Stalker. If only life was that simple. In Stalker’s World, the place where reality is warped so brilliantly back on itself that I somehow become better than everyone else on the roster because of matches I wrestled a few years back, we all get to hold hands and wait patiently to be put out of our misery, a smile on our lips, because Stalker’s going to finally become the World Champion, as soon as he gets around to it. Because he’s not had the chance to go for it, despite this being Stalker’s World with Stalker’s Rules. But, wait, maybe Stalker wanted to prove total dominance first.

Where did I hear that one first… I think that was Christian. Another one for you, Rezin.

Sure. You might win this match. But this is not Stalker’s World, never has been, nor will it ever be. Because for it to be your world, we’d all have to accept you as a God.

And one of my other partners, Rich Mahogany, might have something to say about who’s the God of this world. There are two songs that fit him perfectly, and Alice Cooper did one of them.

I think that says everything about Rich Mahogany. Back to the opposition.

Anarky. I’ve got to admit, I was wrong about him. He’s tougher than he looks, and he’s one of the most honest people I’ve met in this business. You’re right, we don’t see eye to eye, but I know any match against him is going to be a great challenge. It’s no accident he became World Champion. It’s no surprise he managed to hold onto the belt, nor is it a surprise he’s not really all that fazed having lost it. Some former champions lose all hope and get desperate to reclaim “their” title. Others shrug it off and get on with wrestling. That’s Anarky. Hard as hobnail boots. The only thing I have to worry about from Anarky is him, not his words. He’ll leave it in the ring.

Sorry, am I being too respectful for some people? Sorry. Let me channel Stalker a minute.

[“The Dragon” unclips the jaw-piece on Otaku’s mask, and on cue the anime fan lets out a ferocious, inhuman roar, his arms flailing as the eye of the mask suddenly becomes more human. He runs past the camera, and we can see something jump out of his back, falling to the ground out of shot]

Karl: He said that’s an umbilical cord. He also keeps threatening to make me watch that show. C’est la vie.

Seriously, though, besides differences of opinion, I can’t say much is wrong with Anarky. Layne Winters, on the other hand…

Nice to see you back, Layne. How’s the shoulder? Judging by how hard you were hitting, still fairly messed up. Did you have the surgery in the end? The one you were putting off to try and win the World Title?

Shame that didn’t play out. I thought you’d make it, but what do I know? Nothing, since this is Stalker’s World.

Your problem, Layne, is you want the world, now. You want it, now. You demand it, now. You say. Reality’s shown things to be very different. You once thought the Television Title was holding you back, but in Empire Pro Wrestling – the Empire Pro that I know – it doesn’t matter whether you already hold a title, you can still challenge for the World Title. Going into Russian Roulette, the first one, Lindsay was tag team champion. I even got into a six person World Title match when I was Intercontinental Champion, so I know it’s possible. What was holding you back?

It wasn’t the TV title, or people running from you. Dan plays politics, but nobody plays Dan in his own company. He’ll do what he wants to mess with you, so you the only people who could’ve held you back are Dan Ryan, and… Layne Winters.

Simply put, Layne, you weren’t good enough then, and based on the tag title match, you aren’t good enough now. Your shots were sluggish. They weren’t as strong as I remember them. In short, you’d taken a step backwards.

Ring rust? Perhaps. We’ll find out at Aggression. But having come back from a lengthy absence I know how tempting, and wrong, it is to blame ring rust. Looking back I made an issue of it and shouldn’t have. Live and learn.

Well, Layne? Are you ready to prove me wrong? Am I not worth the effort, or am I going to get given unbelievable pain and embarrassment? Whatever it is, I’ll be back, eye patch and all, at the next Aggression.

And it looks like Otaku’s “powered down” over there.

Otaku: [from out of shot] HEY! Don’t break character when I’m cosplaying an Eva!

Karl: I thought you couldn’t speak English in that outfit?

Otaku: Crap! Baka…

Karl: Aggression’s going to be an interesting match. If we can keep the egos out of it, it’ll be even more interesting.

[FADE…]

Voice: Next time on Animezing Dragon…

Because there’s only one Dragon in the pairing.

Karl: I am not reading that.

Otaku: You’ve gotta say something!

Karl: [sigh] Fine. But I’m not reading that.

Otaku: We’re almost out of time!!

Karl: Next time, Animezing Dragon team up with Champions to fight for honour, respect, and humanity.

Otaku: WITH THE POWER OF YOUTH!!

Karl: I’m probably the youngest and I doubt at 29 I count as youth.

Otaku: Maaaan. Next time, POWER OF GOLD! Animezing Dragon Takes Flight!

Karl: You should stick to doing that.

Otaku: I will! What was the second song by the way?

Karl: A Clawfinger song that the FCC and OFCOM wouldn't let us play. Not safe for work.

Otaku: Oh...

[END]

 

[User Poets]

Snicker. Smirk. Laugh.

"The thing about 'Stalker's World,' Jason... is that if it was truly your world, you'd have complete control over everything that happens in it."

"Do you?"

Think about it.

"Do you really?"

Because this match is four on four. It's not two on two on one like the first time we faced off.

"And you won't be able to get one over by attacking my girl."

"Stalker's World."

"You're big on the guarantees here, aren't you? Well, let me make one of my own."

"I may lose my Intercontinental Championship at Sixty Four. That's no skin off my nose, I've lost Championships before, I'll lose them again, and I'll always be in the running to win one right back."

"I may get beaten up and beaten down at Sixty Four. It's happened more times than I can count, and it's going to happen more times than I can fathom."

"But one thing I'll guarantee, Stalker?"

"I will have a match at Aggression Sixty Five, and I will be healthy enough to compete and overcome."

There is nothing you can do to change that.

Nothing.

 

[RStrawsma]

"That's CHAOS, b*tches!"

(CUE UP: "Over from Under the Excrement" by the Melvins. Remember... there'd be no Sleep without the Melvins. There would be no Tool or Nirvana too, for you people who think the only music worth listening to is on the radio. That being said, the Power of the Embeds COMPELS YOU!)

Rezin
Choose my response... carefully?

(FADE IN: We're greeted by a wall of smoke, and a dry chuckle coming from behind it.)

Rezin
Come on, Impulse... you should know by now that "the Escape Artist" does NOTHING with care! I do destructive things without regard for anyone or anything, myself included. That's what makes me the unpredictable powder-keg that I am.

(The sound of bubbling water can be heard, and a shadow emerges within the veil of gray. As the mist parts, REZIN appears, taking yet another hit off his resin bong as if it were an external third lung.)

Rezin
But just out of curiosity... what if THIS response isn't to your liking? Whatchoo gonna do 'bout it, Randy? Round up your frat buddies to pick me apart? Pout some more about how everybody's ganging up on you this week? Make another hollow threat to cripple me in the ring?

Don't know if you've noticed, but I'M the one who's been doing the crippling around here. Who's to say you won't be next? Who says I have to beat you in that ring to end your reign as Intercontinental Champion? ANYTHING is possible in the realm of CHAOS, Impulse... and that's exactly what you're walking into.

(He lets out a dry and raspy chuckle as the camera pans out a bit, revealing more of the smoggy surroundings. Rezin still occupies the abandoned factory we were introduced to in the last promo. Only, you know... no frills this time, or whatever.)

Rezin
The more you keep trying to understand that which cannot be understood, the more I have to laugh. You think you know, but you can't POSSIBLY know. I wonder how much you even understand yourself, Impulse.

You think I have too much hate? Well maybe I do... but there's a lot to hate in this world, if you think about it. I mean, can you actually fathom how much PAIN and MISERY there is in the world outside of your fragile little bubble existence? Do you have any sympathy AT ALL for those people who aren't quite as fortunate and lucky as YOU?

I imagine you don't... which is just one of the many things that keeps me in an ever-present state of pissed-offness.

And crabs. GAWD, I hate those bastards...

(He begrudgingly gives his crotch a few easing scratches as he says this.)

Rezin
But I'm not seeing this as my having too much hate. Maybe it's just that you don't have enough?

Or maybe you're just UNWORTHY of the Dark Side, young Padwan...

There's a lot I could say, Impulse, but I'd only be repeating what's already been said by the likes of Stalker and Anarky. All week, people have been calling you out for your arrogance and hypocrisy. Not surprisingly, you've tried to turn it around to make yourself look like the victim of a slanderous smear campaign.

"What, ME? NO! I never disrespected anybody! You're all being mean and teasing me because I'm DIFFERENT, but that's just the way I am!"

Bulenscheisse...

You keep wanting to believe the world sees you like an underdog overcoming the odds... but unfortunately, you don't quite fall into the Jeremy Lin or Eli Manning category just yet. They have something called HUMILITY.

And since I'm assuming our favorite red-headed Batman supervillainess made up this oft-used quotation as well, I'm sure you've also heard of the expression, "If you can't take the heat, get the hell out of the kitchen." Suddenly, after MONTHS of your snide, passive-aggressive remarks and belittling anybody who was remotely in disagreement with you, NOW you're sick and tired of people getting the wrong idea about who you are? Well boo-f*ckin'-hoo, Randy...

What do you EXPECT from us, Impulse? You're the Intercontinental Champion, and one of the most outspoken guys in the league. Of COURSE we're gonna to trash you! You practically BEG for it It's gotten to the point where every time I see that baby-smooth, Abercrombie chin of yours on my screen, I'm all like... "F*CK, I want to KICK THAT F*CKER IN THE FACE SO HARD!!"

HOO-wwwaaAAHH~!!

(SFX: *SMASH!!*)

(OMGWTFDAMASCUSHEELTHROUGHAWOODENSUPPORTBEAM~11!!! !!!)

Rezin
See what I mean, Impulse? You MAKE me want to destroy things, just being what you are!

There's no shame in that... provided we agree that you're an egoist, an elitist, a hypocrite, and a bit of an ass-tard. But hey, who ISN'T these days, am I right? We've all got our flaws. You and I both know I've got plenty of my own. Bu the main reason people want to put "the Marathon Man" under the microscope and see what makes him tick is because you seem so damn insecure to admit you, yourself, have any.

From what we've seen so far, anyway...

I have a feeling if I poke and prod and nudge and KICK you enough times, we'll finally expose those deep, dark feelings you're afraid to let out.

But by all means... keep on disbelieving the mindless mutterings of a madman, should you choose to. Personally speaking, I LIKE that you have a lot of confidence in yourself... because I know I would just LOVE the feeling of BREAKING that confidence... SHATTERING your dreams... and leaving your jaw hangin' off your stupid face by a thread.

(Evil smirk, deep bong rip. The bread and butter of a Rezin promo.)

Rezin
But moving on from the ho-hum topic of our Intercontinental Champion... let's talk about the man who gave him a reason to BRAG about holding that strap.

Of course, I'm talking about the man who gave the Intercontinental Title any MERIT to begin with... Karl "The Dragon" Brown.

(Draconian in his own way, Rezin lets the black smoke of burning sludge seem out his nostrils. He's like a black dragon of chaos versus the green dragon of Karl Brown's justice, or some epic D&D sh*t like that. At least it would look that way if you're high...)

Rezin
Recognition, Karl... THAT'S what you deserve.

And out of the four gold-totin' honkies standing across from me in that ring, I recognize you as the greatest threat in this match. Why? Because I'm not a f*ckin' moron... THAT'S why!

There's no need to list off your career highlights to ME, Karl... I've seen it all... hell, I've got the DVD sitting in my van. It's, uh... a pirated bootleg copy, but ya know, whatever... the point I'm trying to make is that you don't need to prove anything to ME... because I KNOW you are the undisputed MR. EMPIRE PRO.

(Okay, everybody... Strawsma's dishing out new nicknames this week. Get yours while it's fresh. I like to call them "Strawsmonickers".)

Rezin
But why is it, ol' buddy ol' pal of mine, that I'm the only one that notices? Guys like Impulse and Layne and Rich... they should be taking NOTES from a guru of badassedry like you... but instead, they barely give you mention.

F*ck that noise! EVERYBODY IS "THE DRAGON'S" *****... AND I AIN'T GONNA REST UNTIL EVERY LAST ONE OF THESE C*CK-ENSTEINS RECOGNIZES!!

If I have to kick every one of these jackasses in their faces to get that point across, then so be it. If I have to DESTROY this company, then so be it... so long as the future MEMORY of this place isn't tarnished by the impudent dumbassedry of our "modern" generation.

You can SAY I'm wrong... but you know deep down in your heart, it's inevitable. There is no right or wrong in this... it's just gonna happen, one way or the other.

You're of European culture... which means you're lucky enough to not have that annoying American "HAW-HAW, MY D*CK IS HYOOGE!" mentality... so even YOU should understand that ANY and EVERY empire must inevitably fall. The Roman Empire... the British Empire... the Spanish Empire... the Ottoman Empire... the Third Reich... it's ancient history over there. But there's always a pattern... a cycle. One empire falls, and another takes its place.

A champion falls, another takes its place...

(He says it like it were a backwards Taoist psalm, smirking like an imp out of hell.)

Rezin
But since I'm here, I think it could be said that we've reached the END of that cycle... more specifically, the END of Empire Pro Wrestling. It's time to stop holding onto the past... and let this dying whore of a federation to rot. Let something else be built in its place.

It's not going to be a pleasant turn of events, Karl... but at least you can rest knowing one of us brought down what we once raised.

Be a chap... just come into the ring, and throw the belt onto the mat. Free the Japanophile from the prison of those Tag Team Titles... and free you conscience of the burden of guilt.

(He's about to turn and walk out, then remembers something.)

Rezin
I suppose before I head out, I should give ol' Richie a shout out as well.

Thanks you for offering to hook a brother up with the good sh*t, Rich... but haven't you heard? White is out...

(He holds up the resin bong, pointing to the vile black lump wedged into the slide.)

Rezin
...but this year, BLACK is IN!

(He takes an epic hit. Seriously, I don't know how much of you smoke weed on the reg, but smoking resin is just plain NASTY. It's like sucking on a tailpipe. It's like inhaling industrial assh*le. But this man takes it like a champ and breathes out a black cloud of death so huge it nearly smothers our view of the grinning goat bastard in front of the camera.)

Rezin
Ain't nothing good about my life, Rich... so there ain't no reason for me to be smokin' anything good. We wouldn't want that jackass Dopesmoker coming back now, would we?

(Wink, wink, nudge, nudge...?)

Rezin
But you know, guys... I had fun this week, watching you all yap back and forth about how AWESOME you are. I'm sure it will be even MORE fun once we're all together in that ring with one little narcoleptic referee to separate us from ripping each other to shreds.

Do you FEEL IT...? That TENSION...? That UNCERTAINTY...? That... DREAD??

That's CHAOS, b*tches... and no matter WHAT world you live in, CHAOS will always be there to f*ck you over.

(He takes another big hit off the resin bong and washes out our view behind a shimmering and shifting wall of black smoke hanging heavy in the air. Behind it, we can hear his dry, coughing cackle. The smoke seems to get heavier, and the picture gets blurry. Like death itself, we fade to black.)