time: wednesday morning

day: june twenty fifth, ten am

place: bailey's bay, bermuda; engel residence.

(I'm still trying to get over what happened this morning. It felt so real. I woke up and I ached in every place in my body.)

(I take a swig from my beer, and hit record on the camera. The beautiful Bermuda beach is in my background.)

Matthew Engel: "You're pathetic, Phoenix. Yes, let's start off your promo about how boring and uninteresting I am. That's never been done before! You had to switch over to Chaos just to avoid going to sleep? Jesus Christ. Yet, you had all sorts of things to say about me, Rob. You had all kinds of retorts, and even paid attention to minor details such as your make-believe Grizzly Beer title reign. Yeah, you must've been bored out of your freaking skull.

Don't. Just don't. Don't waste my motherfucking time with that idiocracy. But you were right; you were never Grizzly Beer champion. I had you confused with another loser, by the name of Trevor Knight. I won't apologize, though, because you're both on the low end of the totem pole. At least he managed to learn the lesson my older brother did and throw in the towel. That's something you'll just have to learn the hard way, Rob. I'll be happy to teach you this Friday, and McNasty can finish the lesson at A Farewell to Arms.

But where do you get off telling me I need to learn that lesson? I'm a fucking champion, you imbecile. Clearly, I've got what it takes to make it here in Pioneer Wrestling. Besides the Intercontinental Championship, I have more wins than anybody here in this incarnation of the PWA and I have the third best winning percentage. I've proven match after match that I am a winner, and I will always be one. You always talk about how accolades from other federations don't matter because they don't pertain to where you're at currently, and I couldn't agree with you more.

Right now, you're shit compared to me. So what if you've been in the main event more times than me? I haven't lost at a PWA pay-per-view yet, and I don't plan on starting with Jamie fucking Flynn.

I've spent the last four months winning matches and proving that I am everything I claim to be, and more. What have you done?

You've managed to be pinned by Corey Lazarus - a man I have a win over - and defeated by Mark McNasty twice. You haven't won a title; I've won two. The only times your prayers are answered for a win is when you have Might & Magic in your corner and even then it's not guaranteed.

Face it, you're way past your prime. You're putting your career on the line for attention. Nobody wants to see you anymore. I hope Mark puts you out of your fucking misery."

(A cold stare into the camera.)

Matthew Engel: "I want you to sit there and keep using gravity as an excuse. You're right, gravity did cause you to lose. But, to say that you and Mark are the same size is a laugh in itself. Mark is bigger than you, and ultimately, he'll fall faster than you. So, yeah Rob... by you two falling through the bottom of the cage, he hit the ground first because he garnered more speed due to gravity.

If you want to talk about physics, fine with me. That's basic shit right there, but you've got to bring something more to the table than that. You should know that in a free fall, two objects dropped from the same height -- the heavier one will land first. If you don't know that, then you're as idiotic as your radio counter-part.

Mark clearly won.

As for your second match with him, I could care less about a retarded gauntlet match that you believe screwed you out of getting a shot at the World Title. Maybe you should've thought about your whole 'career on the line bit' then and you would've been fighting Corey in the main event at Retribution instead of curtain-jerking it.

The fact is that Mark McNasty defeated you. If you're so great, then you would've reached deep down and beaten him. But, you're not and as I've said before, it only proves just how far past your prime you really are. You don't see me begging someone for a World Title shot and then tempting them with a career match. You're full of desperation, not greatness.

You're not going to beat me this Friday. It's that simple. I know you don't care about this match, and you'll bring your C plus game just to show how boring it is to you. That's fine, it'll just make my job easier. I'd love to preach to you and try to smack some sense into you, but I'm afraid my days of caring are over. Throw your fucking career away for all I care. Walk into Rampage and just try, just TRY to half-ass your match with me.

I fucking dare you, because I'll humiliate you in front of your fans. I'll put you away."

(I pause and take a drink out of my beer again. It tastes great. Who says ten o'clock is too early for beer? Liars.)

Matthew Engel: "The real truth of the matter is that you didn't throw anything Warren's way. I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about; you really need to lay off that Yoohoo. Warren amounted to a decent record and a two week TV title reign before his career was abruptly interrupted Duff Cote d'Ivoire, who was later killed in a fire. Warren will be back, though.

Riona ended up defending her title against Lex Demise at Revolutions Per Minute.

Maybe that's your problem, Rob. You don't pay attention. You act like you don't give a shit on your radio show, and you parade your apathy around like it's the World Title itself. Is that why your career's in the shitter right now? Pure apathy.

I won't bother trying to get you to care about this week. I know you're focused on something you actually do care about: not getting embarrassed again and maybe winning a match and a title. Good for you, but your apathy is going to be the end of you this week. You won't even come close to defeating me, and you'll have nobody but yourself to blame.

I do not forgive.

I do not forget.

Ciao."

(fade.)