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Who Are you? This is the Final Warning... ..:: That's why I'm entering into competitions where I can, that's why I'm accepting challenges and matches when they arrive, and that's why I'm going out cross-country for the NLWF, spreading the name and the fame of the place that got me where I am today. It's because, for me, this is a dream come true... this is exactly where I never thought I could be in my career and yet somehow, here I am. I'm a former multi-time Heavyweight Champion, I'm a former Tag-Team Champion. ::.. ..:: Yet it is because of these accomplishments that still others criticize, claiming that I'm nothing more than a wrestler who lives through the titles he gains. Allow me to ask the question, however... how do you really think I gained these titles in the first place? How do you think I managed to reach all the success I have? It wasn't by luck or coincidence, that's for certain, and it certainly wasn't because of always being in hardcore matches because, hey, the majority of my matches in the NLWF are standard singles. ::.. ..:: Yet because of success, they choose to judge. Because of accomplishments, they believe me to be a man only living through those accomplishments, and they stand by these beliefs because it's all they have to make themselves feel some form of moral superiority over a man they know they'll never truly be able to surpass. We have people like Frank Hart talking about how he's king of the mountain and how, despite only being North American champion, that he is one of the greatest superstars ever. He thinks people were talking about him more because he was the better man, the hot young star taking the NLWF by storm... and it's sad, because he's only half-right and he's letting it get to his head. ::.. ..:: He is a member of this federation's future, there's no doubting that. Frank has skills, a raw in-ring ability that makes him a serious threat to anyone who stands in his way, but that does not mean that he's already at the top of the federation because of it. The kid's headstrong, that's for certain, but the problem is that he's completely sober and rational when he says that he's at the top, and he truly believes that to the point of degrading those around him. ::.. ..:: My family, my friends... the people who truly matter to me, they're who I do this for. For the fans who cheer me, who buy NLWF products just because my name or picture is on them... these people who support me so fiercely, I refuse to let down. A guy can claim that I'm in it for myself, or that this humble attitude with confident bravado is nothing but a front to cover my gigantic ego... they can claim that I've never been a team player, or that I'm not cut out for the new breed of the NLWF…::.. ..:: You see, kids... you all have your eyes on my past and see me in our present as if I'm trying to relive that glory. I'm not, those days are long behind me and I know there's no reliving them, so why bother trying when I can shape and define new moments in this life and career of mine? Hell, for all I know, the best of the best is still yet to come, and all that I've done up to this point in time has been in preparation for it. In this business, you never can know what to expect. The best you can do is study the tapes and prepare for anything. ::… ..:: My past is secure and it's something I'm proud of, it's something I can look back on and say that I lived to the fullest of my potential during. There are people I've met along the way and friends I've made that today I couldn't give up even if I wanted to, and all because of the decisions I made and the person I was back then. The person who grew into who I am today. ::.. ..:: My present was planned out for a very, very long time... and those plans are what saw me find the success that I have. I'm proud of my present, because it took a lot of effort just to reach this point... and this point is something that even with all my planning I still didn't expect to reach in the end. My present is something I can live in and be happy, knowing that all I've wanted to accomplish I have, and all that's left to do now is tie up what loose strings still remain from before. ::.. ..:: Ah, but my future? Aside from looking as bright as it does, what do I know about it to say that it's secure? My past dictated my present, and my present dictates my future... and right now, the ball seems to be eternally in my court, doesn't it? Despite people somehow still underestimating me, despite me somehow being some messed up kind-of underdog even after all I've done... I still maintain clear control over the situations that surround me, and I don't let myself get sucked into the pettiness and the politics of the federation that so many of these newcomers get tangled in. ::.. ..:: Simply put, everything's gone according to plan up until now, and the plans I have for my future? Well... let's just say that although I'm already a legend today, this story of mine's only about to get better at its end, The legacy I leave behind in wrestling is something that's very important to me, something I hope can inspire others when they come in to build on their own careers... and to be honest, I think I'm doing a damn good job so far. ::.. ..:: Ah, but don't take my word for it. See for yourself, won't you? ::.. 
Well, well, well...back in the thick of things, as usual. King Of the Throne pay-per-view Main Event. If anyone out there is surprised by my presence in this match, you should slap yourself twice for being that stupid, and once more for not realizing that Johnny Styles IS the Main Event. No, wait. Slap yourself twice for that, too. So, what do we do here? Hell, I haven't cut a promo in so long, maybe you all got lucky and I forgot how to do it. And maybe cats like Hart isn't so full of shit that he flosses with toilet paper. Riiiight. Frank Hart, the fiery straight edge of the NLWF with a reputation for never going easy on anyone, always taking his matches as seriously as possible no matter the skills or gender of his opponent. This is a man who'd make Castillo second-guess stepping into the ring with him, and with good reason. In our first match together, Frank pushed me hard and delivered a performance I don't think anyone was expecting out of him. I knew, though... if I'm being honest. In all my career, I try my damndest to give my opponents the respect they've earned along the way, and going into that match.. I knew there was a reason management was pitting him against me. He was going to be a challenge, he was going to be unexpected in the ring, and he was going to give it his all against a person known for doing exactly the same thing. It would be the collision of two powerful forces, and the fans wanted to know how well he could stand up against the storyteller of the then JWF and, in the end, he did a hell of a job. It took a lot to keep him down in the end, but I'd managed to do it after quite a bit of work. I respect Frank Hart for his abilities, but come King of the throne, respect will mean nothing to him, or me. Havoc... even though you're gonna come out here and tell everyone how you're gonna set things right that were made wrong at last weeks Legacy, not matter that you're gonna come out here and tell everyone that you're coming to King of the throne to claim what is rightfully yours... the fact of the matter is that you already had the chance. You blew it, if you asked me you shouldn‘t even been in a undisputed championship match, you broke the rules so stop crying like a bitch and accept it. But let's not talk about stolen thunder. Let's talk about lightning. Y'know... I can't help but feel a little bit like Michael Corleone here, in that every time I think I'm out, they pull me back in. No matter what I achieve in my career, they want to bring me back to the main event level, back to the blood. Be that as it may, it can't be argued that this is my match, my neighborhood, my home. The don't call me The Scarred Sentinel for nothing. Who would have ever guessed a Mexican would be champion? Ah a good Mexican pun can brighten any occasion. You seem to have so many tools, MS. You've got plenty of money, you're obviously very educated and intelligent, so what's holding you back? Oh yeah...the fact that I exist, and can do every single thing you can do with more style, and more class than you'll ever even dream of possessing. So, you can throw around insults like a champ. Want a cookie? Been there, and still doing that, only better. It's becoming a theme, isn't it? Oh, I know...as soon as you can get your ugly ass face in front of a camera again, try seeing how many more ways you can use my own catch-phrases against me. Or, you can point out how I talk allot, and repeat myself ad nauseum. Or, I got it....you could just try admitting to yourself that no matter how hard you try, you'll never be what I am. Now, please, MS, don't take this statement of obvious fact personally. I mean no personal insult in it. Perhaps you just need to add something to your gimmick, eh? Perhaps you could become a philanthropist? Or a used car salesman? Or, I know...a wrestler!! That'd be a nice change for you AND the fans. I hear Jerry Springer's thinking of retiring....there's a gig you could handle. But MS, please, I beg you.... don't come into this match thinking you're going to accomplish anything on those of us who are far more capable, far more adept, and far more talented than you at using the things needed to succeed in the ring. I'm sure you have this wonderful resume' that lays out just what you've done in the ring, Samurai. I'm sure it's full of sparkling title wins, and dominant wins in meaningless matches over wrestlers who mistook you for someone they could defeat. I'm sure that in all your years of experience in the ring, you've done things that even you didn't think were possible. I'm sure you've more than paid your dues to the business, like most of the other people in this match. Except me. I don't pay dues, MS. Dues get paid to me. Because I am who I am. And who am I? I'm a snake in a match full of foxes. I'm a self-serving bastard. I'm the motherfucker that really is everything you claim to be. Everything you’ve been gunning for will be crashing down all around you when I get my hands on you, and prove to everyone who's been mislead, who's been duped, who thinks that maybe, just maybe, you can hold a candle to me just how much of a pipe dream that really is. Hold a candle to me? You can't. You never could. You never will. Ever. Fear me, TMS? No, not you. You're to stupid and full of your own bullshit to be intelligent enough to know when someone who can utterly destroy you is right in front of you. I overshadowed everyone and everything in the West the second I walked in the joint. I get that you're pissed off that not only have you not been able to do anything against another name in this match Frank Hart except whine like a nag, moan like a whore, and pass the fuck out. Hart humiliated you two weeks ago when he took the North American championship from you, You had the chance to be a triple threat and now your this guy who lost to Hart. He made beating you look like something a blind monkey on crack could do. But I guess he left humbling you to someone with a penchant for that kind of thing. We've both been in the ring with some serious top tier talent in this business. Difference is, you've failed over and over again, where I have succeeded as only I can. You want to know how I feel because you think I'm overshadowed by some curtain jerking mid-carder? Tell me how you feel that you know in your soul that now that I'm here, and able to focus on you, your days of perpetrating the biggest farce on the wrestling public in the history of farces, wrestling AND the public is at an end. And MS, the only reason I might be nothing compared to you, is that there is no comparison. I'm the real deal; you're thief, a liar, and a punk who got carried all this time by The West Gms. Call me a liar on this point and Ill show the records of you begging for a trade out of the east. Begging to have a easy path to the top. It will be such a pleasure to finally prove to you, and everyone you've fooled, that no one, not even you, stands outside my shadow. And no matter what you've done in and for this business, do you seriously expect anyone to believe that's going to help you in any way this Saturday? That's why you're nothing compared to me, MS. You want to rest on your accomplishments in the past? You go right ahead, I'll be resting my foot on your chest as you hear that number you seem to be obsessed with lately. Three. The crowd will be counting along with the referee's count, MS, and no matter how much bullshit you spew between now and Saturday, it won't change that. And if you're deluded enough to think that my jokes about you and everyone else have anything to do with my ability in the ring, then making you cry like a walking vagina is going to be easier than I thought. Cut my tongue out, MS. Please. Break my arms, I beg you. Saw my legs off. It'll make listening to you explain how you got beat by a blind torso really entertaining. Even if I had no eyes, arms, or legs, I'd still have more wrestling talent, and more class than you'll ever have. And I'd still kick your stupid ass up around your ears. Stupid bitch. You couldn't kick my ass if I held it in front of your foot for you. How can I claim to be the greatest thing since sliced bread, and back it up? How can I know without a shadow of a doubt that I'm going to break you? Because I have two things you don't, Samurai. A superior intellect, and more God-given ability in my pubic hairs than you could cram into a thousand clones of yourself. But live in the dream world where any of that shit you said you'd do to me can happen. Go ahead. When we start filming "Saw V", i'll get scared. But not of you. The scariest thing you could have imagined is going to happen at King of the throne. You're actually going to have to be in the ring with me. Why is that so scary for you? Because I'm everything you say you are, and more. I'm everything I say I am. You? You're just another Useless Cunt who got by on mid talent and my material. Me? I'm the reason you have nightmares at night, and the reason your groupie achieves orgasm during sex. Run that fucking cockholster all you want to, little brother. When I get my hands on you in the ring -or anywhere else, for that matter- the phrase 'straight murder' will take on a crystal clear meaning for you, and you will regret that you EVER decided it would be cool to try to make yourself what I was born to be. You'll never be what I am, MS. You'll never be better than everyone you face. You'll never be the very best this business will ever see, not as long as I'm alive. So, hire some hit men, or get used to the fact that when it comes to bowing down, there ARE no exceptions. Inflectum Tenus, MS. Bow Down. You will, bitch, I promise.
Has your head over been just so cluttered? To the point where look at where you currently stand, and tell yourself that it’s not a mistake? I mean, here I am today. Atop the wrestling world, it seems like everything is going for me. As if I’m a puppet master, pulling the strings on the world below. And as I pull the strings, it seems they don’t move when I want them to move. The philosophy is confusing, even to myself. So I do my best to break it down to simpler terms, so it’s the least bit comprehensible. I’m a cold son of a bitch. I know it; they know it, the world below knows it. I’ve done things my mother wouldn’t have been proud of. It says a lot, knowing the shit she’s done during her lifetime. Everywhere I go, everywhere I turn; I see people much different from me. I walk down the street, and people wave. I walk into buildings and malls, and they hold the door open for me. What is this gesture all about? Friendliness? Respect? I come to question that. Those are the same traits, of those same people that were the quickest to shove a knife in my back. It had to be all an act. No matter how hard I wanted to try, I simply couldn’t see things that way. This is a world filled with millions, a world where dog eats dog. The last man standing. There isn’t a damn person in this world that would take a bullet for me, why would I need them them? Am I asking for too much? God knows I wouldn’t take a bullet for someone, even if I would’ve survived the encounter. The week in the hospital, would surely be too much of a price to pay. I mean, take a look at the wrestling business. The promoters don’t care about the wrestlers. They don’t care about their roster. They care about their business. The cash they make, the prestige their names get. Yet, I allow myself to be played a fool. I know full well, Bert, Orlando, Silva, Carmine all make money off my hard-work, blood, sweat, and tears. But sometimes, you have to bite your tongue and let them win a round, even if you hate watching the celebration. Still, back to my point. These people, they judge, the discriminate, they hate against the choices I’ve made. They tell me I should be more like them. They tell me I should say hi, to the person walking down the street, they say I should hold the door open for the next person behind me. I listen, and I think about it. Are they really looking out for my right interests? Or are they lowering my defenses, in hopes of sticking that knife into my back? Looking for answers, I find the one person I can trust. Well, sort of. I trust no one. The minute you give them their trust, is the minute you give them your soul. Still, I knew he could pass on some knowledge of some sort to me. There was no guarantee I’d listen, it’d probably hang in the back of my head, along with my thoughts of suicide and murder. I just had to attempt to get things straight; maybe it would help me get to the bottom of these visions. The therapist didn’t help me one bit, dumb broad. “Hey, SB!’’ My brother said in excitement. I walked in, as he extended a hand forward keeping me back from entering the house. “This isn’t bad news about mom, is it?’’ He asked me. He was so damn concerned with that bitch, I never understood why. She was a deadbeat, nothing more. “No, I haven’t heard from her’’ I told him, slipping past his guard and into his apartment. The place was well kept, but small. Tail’s injury, made it hard to work even the simplest of jobs. I thought about bailing him out a few times, but surely my brother would only take offence to such a gesture. “So I heard about the great news’’ My brother cheered on with excitement, before rushing up to me with a slap on my back. “King of the throne? Are you kidding me, man? That’s beyond impressive’’ He nudged me on my head, like we were little kids again. A long time ago. “Yeah, and I came here hoping you’d help me out with a few things’’ “Well you know’’ My brother exclaims, before lifting up his leg over exaggerating his pain. I got a bad leg, but I could still probably show you a thing or two if need be’’ My brother jokes with me, quickly I shook my head. We often did not share the same types of comedy. “No, I don’t mean physically, I need to clear my head mentally. I don’t feel as if I can walk into the ring, not understand the full brunt of my power. It’s like a sword you know? It’s big, it’s powerful, but if you don’t know how to swing it with the right technique, it becomes a decoration and nothing more” My brother fairly taking a back from my comment, bobbed his head slightly. He walked off, heading towards his couch, I followed. I took a seat on the couch, as he did the opposite side. “Is it the visions again?” My brother asked me. I was surprised he brought it up; I didn’t know if he believed me. Especially after the whole saga with his mother went down. The last thing my brother wanted to know that my mother was alive and well, only to never attempt to find him. It hurt him. “Visions? Well it depends, are you going to believe them this time?” I question him. My brother looks at me, before looking down at the ground. Swallowing his tongue, he looked back at me and nodded his head. “Yeah, I had sometime to think about it…and, well. Mom…” My brother stopped, trying to regain his composure. He tried to speak once more, but I interjected. “…No. Don’t worry about that. You and only you can believe what you want. What I need to know is if you believe me, and these visions I speak to you about?” I question my brother, who looked into my eyes, and uttered. I believe you It meant something to me. How much? I really didn’t take enough time, to sit down and calculate. Quickly, I brushed into my next string of thoughts. “Well, these dreams there literally like an alternate reality for me. And now it’s grown much bigger that…It started off to my match at War Games where I didn’t win…“ My brother interjects with confusion. “But Alex was saved, to the most part.” He questions me. I do believe my brother knew Alex did make it out of War Games, but my spirit was a different story; he was just fishing for a better answer on what was going on with me and the visions. He was always calculated, much like me. “Yeah, he did, But in not in these visions…not in these dreams. In my dreams, he doesn‘t make it out. My life from there, takes a turn for the worst. I break up with my girlfriend, I start drinking, and I lose my job with NLWF…’’ I stop before looking around me in shock, just by sharing this story out loud to my brother. It was pain full to know what I could’ve been. “And then what?’’ My brother questions me. I look back up at him, my heart races in speed. I hate coming to the realization… “Things seem to get much better, I still don’t have a job, but it was almost as if I was happier. You know, really excited to work again. Right now? I wrestle, because I like hurting people. I like breaking their dreams. I like the attention, the spoils, and the fame. These dreams? I do it, because I really love it. The good things about it” I tell my brother, who simply leans over. “What are those good things?” He questions me. I take a second to pause, and re think my plans of attack. I tell myself I don’t answer, but then I remember I need to get to the bottom of this. I simply couldn’t allow myself to miss out on the opportunity, of un-covering the result of these visions. “Well, you know…’’ I found it hard to continue on. I knew I wasn’t like them, I simply couldn’t be. I’d say it, but I didn’t agree with it. “The normal good guy things, wrestle for the love of competition. Out of the respect for your opponents, putting on a show everyone can walk away with a smile on their faces” I tell my brother, before glancing towards the ground. “And you fear that, don’t you?” My brother accuses me, as I look at him caught off guard. No, I didn’t want to be the good guy. I was fine the way I was. I’m still standing right now; I had to being doing something right. “You fear on becoming like one of them, don’t you? One of the norms” My brother pushes on, as I clench my teeth in frustration. “I fear becoming weak!” I shout out in anger, as my brother simply smiles in return. I watch on, as he breaks out into a sly laugh. “Weak? Weak is when your doing something you don’t believe in” My brother tells me, was he trying to say I didn’t believe in my own path? The violence I held within me? The anger, the pain, the frustration? That all wasn’t me? I didn’t need his help; I knew that came from me, and nothing else. “Are you trying to say, who I am now is all an act?” I question my brother, who simply nods back and forth. “No, what I’m saying is you haven’t fully accepted the man you really are. You still not sure. You’re still making your modifications, to something you’ve already perfected. You’re simply trying to fix what isn’t broken. That’s the problem” My brother tells me. Here I was trying to get to the bottom of these visions, and all along. Maybe this was a gift I was given? Maybe, this is a unique asset that only I posses on this earth. “So what do you think I should do?” I change my tone, from angry, to caution. My brother reaches over, before grabbing a glass of water which sat on the table. Taking a sip, he continued on. “When you get to the bottom of these visions? I want you to do, and act upon the first feeling in your heart. Good or evil, you find it. You stick with it, that’s you” My brother tells me, what this meant was beyond my belief. Surely, it would play apart in my life someday… …Maybe sooner than we all think? “I’ll keep that in mind, thanks brother”
It’s time. Shadow Demon, do you feel the jitters? Do you feel the pain in your stomach, casting doubt upon you, all the way to your head? Those are the feelings. The feelings we feel when we are worried about something, or unsure of our current predicaments. It’s a six sense, in which we as humans have been delt with. It keeps us out of danger, or at least attempts to. Because despite these feelings, Shadow Demon. Surely, you will walk into the ring and try to prove your superiority to me. Will you fail? Well, that’s a different story for a different day. Shadow Demon, you can stop bragging how you defeated me in your second match, because last week I straight up murdered your has been ass. That’s thing with you Shadow, your used to having everything handed top you, comes with the territory of sucking off Silva’s WVD! But you see, While you’ve been walking a path, aligned with flowers and cotton candy. I’ve been walking a path, over stepping rail road spikes, and booby traps. I fought hard to get where I am today, you? You fought, but you never had to fight as hard as me. You were granted this path, you were expected to make it this far. Silva banked on it, the fans banked on it, and you? You cashed in on it. Maybe, that makes me the sucker. Maybe I’m the sucker, because while I was sweating it out in the ring, you were jerking off to the fact you’ve made it to the King of the throne by defeating a talentless hack. And hell, maybe it isn’t that bad being the sucker? The man, who fights to earn his spot, in the finals. The man who gives it his all every given night? Hell, sure I’ve played dirty, and I’ve fought dishonorable—but I always fought, each and every time. I must admit though, Shadow Demon? You are good. You are good at taking what I say, twisting my words, and throwing them back at me. They say if you can’t produce your own work, take someone else’s, and try to make it sound a little better. It’s pretty obvious you’ve attempted that, making it sound better though? Well, besides your horrible pronunciation and grammar skills, you’re on the right track. I’m not going to make fun of your obvious speech impairment, or recommend some English courses, speech therapy, and whatever else that could help your obvious speech impairment. Because honestly? When we step in the ring, our actions do speak louder than words. Your action though, is much like your words. Slow, dumb, throw a couple ''I’s'' in there, and it perfectly describes ‘’U’’. Honestly, though. I’m going to try to keep our little encounter professional. Demon, you are a solid competitor. But when it stacks up to me? You’re a few chips short. I understand that I’m seen as the under dog. I know people believe, I have a few mountains to climb when it comes, to hooking your leg for the count of three. But by god mark, my words it will be done. The world will witness it. The big and mighty Shadow Demon, being forcefully tossed off his pedestal. It’ll make the news, it’ll be on the news paper head lines. Your friends, your family, your whore—they will all see, Shadow Demon crash and burn in epic proportions. The flames, will light up my eyes, as I watch on with a smile across my face. This has become much more personal, than being named the Universal champion, or anything of that sort. I’m here to prove to myself, that the dark path I’ve took? Leads me to light. Not of that of the heavens, or stars—but to the fame and glory. There’s only one man holding a key to that, and that’s you. I’m not just going to take the key from you, I want to hurt you. I want to make you miserable. I’m not going to stop, until you’ve gave me everything you’ve got. You see, I’m not going to take that key from you. You’re going to give it to me, by the ways of victory. I know the only way to beat the dragon, is to slay him. There’s no wounding him, until he crawls up in a corner and hides. No. To beat the beast, you destroy the beast. And trust me Shadow Demon, you are a mighty beast. You’re strong, your powerful, your vicious. But you will be beaten on that night, and the dragon dagger will lay witness to such noble acts, on our night. You can kick, you can scream, and you can deny it. But these aren’t my opinions. These are facts, which will be written by the blood on my hands, and the marks on your body. SD, I know these are just words. And I know, they may not hurt you, or that whore wife of yours. However, there honestly not meant to hurt or sting you. This talk? These threats? Are only a fraction of things to come. I spit venom, and I spit venom that stings. But trust, I’ve proven to you and everyone else that I can back these words up. I’ve systematically destroyed, broken, and picked apart each on of my opponents. In the end? You’re no different from them. What I witness to earn this spot against King of Dx? I see, Shadow Demon. And like King of Dx, and the rest that have fallen before me? You will too. Hart, you a bigger idiot if you think this entire battle resolves around your pathetic stint on my show. It’s more than that. That’s just a fraction, of my hate towards you. I have everything to gain on your losses. This is about cementing my name, on the marquee of the wrestling world and making history. This is about proving I am the best wrestler, in the entire world to date. And if you Hart, Demon, MS, Havoc stand in my way? I’m going to move you all to the side. You stand in my way of my goals; that’s enough to piss me off. That’s enough to make things personal. Anyone who gets between me and my achievements? They will pay the price; in blood. Hart, MS, Shadow, and even Havoc. On our night you have two choices. You can think back to the time, you won and earned your spots. Or you can open your eyes long enough, to watch yourself lose everything you all dreamed of. Either way, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ve set my eyes on something, and not you or anybody else can change that. This is my night, you day in the sun has already set. All your glory, all your fame, all your fun at the top. It ends with me. You don’t fight to win from here on out, you fight to survive. If you fight to win? You leave yourself open, for complete and utter failure, in which you will have to cope with for the rest of your pathetic existence on this earth. Havoc, you’ve spread your plague upon us for way too long. And now it’s time I bring on the antidote, and cure an entire nation after suffering from your grips. These fans of the experts, have suffered way too long watching you parade around as the top guy. They’ve been poisoned, and brain washed, into believing you’re the right guy for this job. As if you are really the best Universal Champion and the top wrestler in the world today. I want to ask you this. What happens when I ascend up that ladder, and grab hold of that dagger? What happens when I thrust the blade into your rib cage? Will the fans help you? Will their cheers, help you move on? Well your last hopes of another Asylum help you? What happens when I hit you with the End Result? Will the predictions, give you the extra push to get back up and prove them right? Havoc, what happens when your down on your back, and you witness your former title in my hands, or what about you MS, when you watch your Undisputed Universal championship in my hands and the bell rings, confirming you of your failed efforts? Are you going to remember, when you were standing over Havoc in the same manner last week? These questions, they will be answered. When I place my hand over the foundation of the 02 Arena in London was built on, shaking it for all it’s worth. The building will rumble back and forth, the fans will cry out in horror, for their hero has fallen. You’ve written a nice pretty story for yourselves, everyone of you, but this? This is how it all ends. It ends in my hands. -- [ FIN ] -- |