Posted for Vertigo
(Cue Up: "The Day The World Went Away" by Nine Inch Nails. Fade into Golem, sitting in an old rocking chair in a quiet room. He smirks casually as he rocks back and forth, and he nods his head in a knowing fashion. He turns his head towards the camera and begins to talk.)
Golem: So the squirrels finally got their nut, and it was indeed at my and X-Ecutioner's expense. But little time to mope, as again we get to mind the gates for the fresh blood entering. The Rockamambinators...I know I am going to mess that name up a thousand or so times before I care, but what can you do? Ray Rock, Johnny Mambo...I don't know who you are. At all. I don't remember ever hearing a single note sung in your honor, my knights of yore. But this much I do know. I have, for a while now, forgotten to try to make an impression. I have been just going through the motions and frankly that it isn't fair. It isn't fair to my adoring public or plebians, my best and most sweetest friend X-Ecutioner, but most of all it isn't fair to my newest and funnest toys. You, Rockabillinators. I don't think you understand, as you have yet to enter the ring of fire with the Clawed One, the one who is spoken through fainted breath. The Mountain Hewer, the Cleaver of Hopes and Dreams, he who walks through fire and comes out on the other side unscathed. I am Golem, the great ender of this place. The cure of seven year itch, and the bringer of itches anew. I speak in circles, perhaps, but really I do so for my own purposes. What you draw from them I can't imagine and I would be lying if I said that I cared. I have toppled the messiahs of this industry and you, Rockamambinators, are but broken dinnerware to strewn about the wreckage of ageless relics. You shall find yourself no different, and perhaps the same as those who rest cold in Golem's memories. Golem carries no ill remnants of any old war, none indeed remain even from the latest ladder match. I cannot speak for X-ecutioner, but I shall be ready for our match and I will be eager to teach you the lesson in humility that a father must teach his son when he becomes too big for his own good. I shall teach you that the road to greatness in this place does not go through Christian Sands. It does not go through Beast. It indeed does not go through Dan Ryan either. Greatness stands now before in wonderous splendor, a caged animal rocking quietly in an rocking chair, stewing in his own miseries, lost in battles that shall be rectified and won again. Rock, Mambo, it is at the end of my claw that all words and images shall made clear to you in the brilliant haze, amidst the soft waves of crimson. Release is all I can give you, the door to a greater understanding, and a place in history. A place amongst greats who have tried what you are about to try, and who have endured what you shall soon endure.
(Golem stops rocking and his smirk goes away. Quietly, a somber Golem nods in agreement of his own words. The camera, meanwhile, fades to black.)
