RP #13- "When The Past Catches Up - Part 2 of 2"

[Promo - The Undeniable Words #14, 5/23/08]

Well, well. Nicholas Jaxx. Here we are again.

To be honest, it never really surprised me that we'd be facing off once more. Your... arrogance was rather predictable, and your ego was such that I don't think you ever could have swallowed one defeat. I always thought I might have been forced to do something permanent about you, but for the sake of mercy I decided to give you one chance to slink off at Dishonorable Discharge. My mistake, I probably should have curb-stomped your skull when I had the chance, given what you've brought to my door. Assaults, dummy-spits over losing, fake rage-quits, and even trying to get the now-fearful Joshua Payne and your little pal, the vastly overrated Pete Ebdon into taking me down. Fair enough. And now it looks like we're headed for a second- and final- and believe me, no matter what you say it will be final- clash.

Seems that you claim you're reborn, and that's one of the reasons that you'll somehow be victorious this time. Yeah, I've been hearing you parrot it week in, week out after you came back after me. You're new, you're improved, you learned from your mistakes, blah blah blah. Thing is, Jaxx, that's all very poetic- even if it's been repeated by God knows how many 'pissed off wrestlers' who are tired of getting their arses kicked by their betters week in, week out- but haven't you pretty much rambled on about all this before? Hell, didn't I distinctly remember you claiming that you were tired of being underestimated and that you were going to make an impact and take the joint over right before our last confrontation? I'm hearing slightly different words, but it's the same damn message! And so far I have yet to see any real change! All you've done is trade in your vacuous airheaded tramp for an enforcer who you'll get about two months' usage out of before he dies of a heart attack, and added Joshua Payne to your coterie of large hulking man-bodies for you to hide behind like a little bitch.

What else has changed, Jaxx? What the hell else has changed? You're still the same annoying, high-pitched little bitch as before. You're still incredibly deluded. You still fail to grasp reality around you. Sure, you're waving a few sick weapons around and jumping me, but didn't you jump Odd before your great transformation? I'm not seeing it, Nikki, I'm really not! Seems to me that you're talking out of your arse and desperately hoping we'll buy it. Well, I'm not that stupid! You're going to have to do a little better than that.

Ooooh, wait. You've got a killing streak now, right! This battle doesn't end until either you get the Bloodshed Championship or one of us flatlines, right? Scary. I'm so intimidated by that. You know how many retards before you have actually used that veiled death thread before, pal? You are far from the first! Yet I still stand. So if you intend on making this a war that goes on and on until we're dead, then this war isn't ending until you die of syphilis in a few years' time, because I'd prefer to just turn you into a vegetable than kill you, and I know what it takes to kill me and you don't even come close to it! You might beat me if you have enough of an army with you, and you can beat on me until the cows come home, but I'll tell you it straight, Nicholas Jaxx- you can't kill me!

As for learning from your mistakes- heh, that's funny. You claimed that in the upcoming weeks, and about five seconds later you had the gall to actually claim that I can't hold a candle to you? You know, maybe I'm going to have to explain something to you once and for all, nimrod. This isn't my preferred field of fighting. This is my weakest field, little man. When I went up against you the first time, I was an untested champion of a field that I had no experience in. Going up against some self-proclaimed king of hardcore. By all logic, I should have not only lost, I should have been decimated in the attempt and become one of the least noteworthy Bloodshed Champions in PDW history. But I beat you- in my weakest field and one that you pride yourself on being adept at so much that you made it part of one of your billion nicknames. And you have the gall to claim it was some kind of fluke and I got lucky and I can't hold a candle to you? Pal, you'd better just have been thanking your stars this wasn't a standard match, or I wouldn't have just beaten you, I'd have humiliated you and you wouldn't have ever had that change of heart, you'd have stayed in your miserable little hole forever!

Are the odds against me? Yeah, I'll concede they are. I've taken a beating for the last several weeks and I'm probably going to be bandaged up long after this match. With Christy Matthews, Reuben Tialata and the Pantheon, this could be a five-on-one disadvantage and I actually suspect it could come down to that when I'm about to finish you off. Do I care? No. I really don't care what I have to do any more, Jaxx. Decency, honor, the right thing to do... usually I'd be guided by them, but you pushed me far beyond that line. You forced my hand. Your continual attacks, your threats and your attempts to try to end me have forced my hand and I must now do whatever I can to survive. As far as I'm concerned, this is about self-preservation and in the case of defending my own life and career I will do anything and everything. If that means giving Reuben Tialata a concussion, so be it. If that means knocking my fist out the other side of Christy Matthews' face, then so be it. Chivalry be damned, if she attacks me, she knows the risks. If that means putting the Pantheon in traction, then so be it. And if that means breaking your legs, then so be it.

In fact... I am going to break your legs if I have the chance, Jaxx. Be warned of that right now. That's not even a self-defense thing. That's something that I've actually planned to do to you ever since you launched your first post-loss tantrum. You irk me that much, you annoy me just to that level, and since you insist you won't accept defeat and will continually try to finish me, then you leave me no real choice but to strip you of your ability to attack me. So watch those knees and shins, Jaxx. First chance I get... snap.

[MAIN STORY]

DATE/TIME: 1:15 PM, Thursday May 22, 2008
LOCATION: 'Above The Clouds', Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

One might have been excused for thinking that Nicholas Jaxx and the Pantheon had finally gotten one up on Steve Jason after the last week.

One had to admit, it was an almost perfect plan. Fooling everybody into thinking there was trouble brewing between Nicholas Jaxx and Joshua Payne, and that Pete Ebdon would get drawn in, only to reveal their allegiance and Jaxx's membership in the Pantheon by all three trying to eliminate Steve. It was... a sound plan. Jaxx got to soften his opponent up and gain some important backup, Ebdon got to... well, be something other than a useless peon for a change, and Joshua Payne got to gain some deal of revenge on a man who many felt could be a threat to his Platinum Championship. It was a clever plan, and even Steve had to grudgingly admit that- so clever that Steve was amazed Jaxx had been able to even help come up with it.

They had made only one mistake- but it was by far the most fatal and stupid mistake they could have made, one that if Steve had his way, they would very sorely regret having made:

They failed to finish the job. Steve was still standing.

With that said, he had... definitely been in better shape. And that was a big call to make, as Steve had spent virtually the entire month bandaged up, save for one brief week when he'd faced Inferno. The continual attacks over the month seemed to be something Steve had little choice but to weather and work around, and the question of whether they were going to take a brutal toll was still left in doubt.

But nevertheless, the signs of damage were there- after Jaxx's brutal half-bat, half-mace attack and after the Pantheon had worked their damage on him, Steve now had a white bandage wrapped around his forehead and around the sides of his head above his ears, leaving a gap for his short, dark hair and the top of his head to stick out of. His sternum had taken a beating from the Three-Man Funeral Rites that the Pantheon had laid out on him, causing his lower abdomen to be wrapped up. That was concealed by a white tanktop held tightly over Steve's body, which was in turn covered by an army-green short-sleeved shirt which hung wide open. Dark black jeans covered his legs, and white and blue cross-trainers covered his feet. He'd also, in a rare moment, decided to conceal his eyes with a pair of silver Oakley Crosshairs.

The business of the day had required him to head deep into Philadelphia's central business district- the heart, hub, life and soul of the city itself. More to the point, it had required him to head above ground level- while Steve seemed to be standing outdoors, with the blue sky seemingly all around him, he was in fact standing on a very broad, very large indoor terrace which was surrounded by glass, to the point where it provided a 360-degree view of the area around the building. The sun still shone through the windows with a bright, intense glare, and the air conditioning seemed to simulate the outside air- although the temperature was definitely aimed at being comfortable. An elevator was on the far end of the terrace leading to the other levels of the building, while mahogany-colored ceramic tiling laid out the entire floor. Tables were laid out throughout the area, being tended to by black-and-white clad waiters and waitresses serving a distinctly up-market, professional crowd, with all kinds of expensive-looking meals being laid out around them. There was no doubt about it- they were dining in style this afternoon.

"Je-sus! I knew that Chloe was a lawyer and therefore loaded and all that, but this is some serious fine dining right here! I hope she's paying, cause I don't think my arse can afford this..." Douglas Henry Phidippidies McNamara remarked, looking around the area with a broad grin. He'd sacrificed the Hawaiian-wear for once, instead opting for a white and black bowling shirt, black cargos and his infamous red trucker cap.

"You are such a free-loader, Dougy..." Kaitlyn Hawking remarked, stepping out from behind the two men. She'd come dressed for the occasion, wearing a light brown short dress that left the vast majority of her arms free, tied at the waist with one of those white sashes that seemed to be so in-vogue nowadays, her dark hair hanging loose. Also backing her, remaining far, far more quiet, was the stocky frame of Sergei Volkov, head of security for The Shack, Dougy's entertainment complex. His stubble had grown out a fair bit since they last met, to the point where it was now thicker than Steve's, and he'd elected to wear a black suit, pants, and turtleneck.

"Alright, alright. Let's not get into a debate..." Steve murmured, "We've gotta find Chloe. She said she'd be close by."

Sure enough, Chloe was there waiting for them at one of the tables closest to the elevator. It had been months since Steve had last seen her, but not an awful lot had changed about her. She was slightly younger than Steve- probably twenty-six or twenty-seven now- and she definitely fell on the 'pretty' or 'cute' side of attractiveness, rather than the supermodel-style sexiness of some, with light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and hazel eyes that caught any attention thrown their way, a pale complexion and a small, secretive-looking smile on her face. She'd dressed up for the occasion, a jade green Chinese-style cheongsam dress hugging her slight, short form tightly. A cup of coffee was set up in front of her as she looked up at Steve and the approaching crew. Her eyes immediately recognised Steve and Dougy, but narrowed in a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity at Kate and Sergei. After eyeing the group, she finally spoke in her warm American-tinged-with-Irish accent.

"Hi, Steve. It's been a long time."

"Tell me about it," Steve chuckled, smiling back at his friend, "How are you, Chloe?"

"I'm alright, although I'm not sure I can say the same about you..." She squinted up at the bandage around Steve's head, eyeing it critically, "What happened to you?"

"A trio of punks made a big mistake that they'll be regretting. Some earlier than others. Better not to talk about it though, I'm kind of trying to conserve my anger."

"Fair enough. I won't ask. Sounds like it's better that I don't know. I see Dougy there... but I don't know your other friends. New people?"

"Oh, yeah. This is Sergei Volkov." Steve motioned to Sergei, "A friend of mine from Russia who's working security for Dougy's place at the moment. He's kind of one of the crew, so I figured it'd be best to bring him along. And this is Kate Hawking. She's from the Sunset Coast. Came over here to help us out a bit and get her career kick-started. She's in fashion design at the moment."

"It's a pleasure, both of you..." Chloe smiled, then motioned to the chairs across from her at the table, "Don't just stand there, guys. Sit down. They're bringing lunch across pretty soon."

Sooner than expected, it had seemed- as soon as Steve and the crew had pulled up chairs and taken a seat, a pair of waiters swept their way towards the table. Chloe no doubt had Steve's number down, as the food that was waiting had been almost tailored to his exercise regimen- lean meat and greens for the most. Dougy's plate, on the other hand, was loaded with greasy, fatty ribs, while Sergei and Kate had been given decent-looking steaks. Chloe had gone for something much easier, having forsaken the meat altogether and had gone straight for a salad- albeit a very substantial one.

"Let's just get down to business, shall we?" Steve asked in-between cuts of food, "We could go around and around in circles, but I don't think either of us have the time. The fact that you had to get over here so fast, and the fact that it couldn't be dealt with over the phone indicates to me that you wanted to talk to me about something rather large-scale. Something involving a mutual friend of ours?"

"Mutual friend? I'd have thought you'd have considered Heather more than that, Steve..."

Steve knew it. Ever since he'd picked up that phone a few weeks ago, he'd known that something big was going down, and he somehow knew that it involved Heather Halliwell somehow. His... ex-girlfriend? Girlfriend? On-again, off-again girlfriend? He didn't even know what the nature of that relationship was any more... tended to be surrounded by chaos- much as Steve himself was. Something major was always coming up every so often, and it was about that time for something to happen again. He nodded slightly before replying.

"You know I do, and you also know it's complicated. Especially now that I'm here and far away from the old life. What's going on, Chloe?"

"You might want to brace yourself..." she warned, "This is big stuff, Steve, and I'm not sure exactly how you're going to react to it."

"I've already had the week from hell, Chloe..." Steve laughed harshly, "I've had a retard try to kill me for the last few weeks, and now an entire stable's gunning for me because I'm apparently too big a threat to let walk, and the same retard's trying to finish me off and is going to force me to do something permanent about him. I don't think there's much you can say right now that's going to shock me, much less have a negative effect on me."

"Alright, then. Don't say I didn't warn you." She drew in a breath suddenly, "You missed a lot when you had to leave, Steve. After you saved Heather from Hallie and after she started torturing me and then when I got loose, things happened. Big things. I'm still not sure who disappeared first- Heather and I, or you. I know now that you got out of California and left the XWF behind for good, but you missed something that... well, you really should have known about."

"And that is?"

"Heather's pregnant, Steve."

Perhaps Steve should have really thought about what he was getting into when he claimed that nothing else should have shocked him that week.

In an almost dramatic effect, the faint background music that had been playing suddenly took that exact moment to crash and die, resulting in the entire area being swamped in an eerie silence that contributed to the feeling of shock that suddenly swarmed around the room. Everybody at the table were silent. Kate's eyes were wide but she said nothing. Sergei's expression was thoughtful, as if he didn't know completely what to say or do. Chloe herself merely fell silent, waiting for the impact of exactly what she'd said to sink in at the table.

Then Dougy suddenly punctuated the silence by falling back off his chair with an abrupt and heavy crash, his plate and his lunch flying over the floor as he suddenly exploded into uproarious laughter from where he was now crashed on the ground. It was the laughter of a man who'd suddenly seen or heard something hysterically, side-splittingly funny- and he was the only person who'd seen it that way.

"Hahahaha... hehehehe... ahahahahahahaha! Oh my God! This is by far the most hilarious moment of my life!"

"I'm... I'm glad you find it funny..." Steve's voice was broken and uncertain for one of the few times in his life, and his usually rock-hard and certain expression was now pale and lacking in color.

"Yeah... so am I, you moron." Kate's reaction, on the other hand, was surprisingly venomous. Her usually pleasant demeanor had suddenly set into what seemed like outrage, and her expression was that of somebody who'd been slapped and insulted at the same time. It wasn't clear exactly who she was insulting- Steve or Dougy.

"This... um... this is about to get very, very awkward, isn't it?" Sergei had managed to recover next, his expression back to being calm and casual, although he did seem concerned at just what could happen next.

"Not for me, Sergei, because I think I'm leaving. I think I just lost my appetite." Kate was cold now as she suddenly rose up from her chair and whirled around, her expression stormy. Before Steve could even speak or attempt to stop her, she marched away with a furious expression on her face, leaving a chilly silence only disturbed by Dougy's continuing laughter.

"Hahahaha... ow! Goddammit, Kate, don't step on me with friggin' heels!... hahahahaha, oh, God, this is gonna be a story to tell the guys back home..."

"Shit. I should have known this was going to happen..." Chloe muttered at the unfolding chaos, glancing back after the departing Kate, "Girlfriend?"

"No. She has a crush on me, though. She... was never going to take that well." Steve's voice indicated he had partially recovered from the shock, but there was still a very taken-aback look on his face. Whatever he was expecting, he had not been expecting that, "How long?"

"She's about four or five months in now. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Steve. I wanted to, but you disappeared, and I had to get her into hiding."

"It's mine, then?"

"Oh, like who else's is it going tmmmph!" Dougy began before Sergei, in a rare move of partiality, clamped a hand firmly over Dougy's mouth. Chloe simply nodded in response to Steve's question. Even though Steve subtly knew the answer to the question, that sent a strange double-shot of euphoria and worry flooding through his system at the same time. He had a kid on the way. Steve hadn't felt that warm flash for a few years now- the knowledge that he'd created life and that it would be in the world soon. Despite all of Steve's sometimes-inhuman coldness, he was not so detached that that knowledge didn't have him awestruck.

But now? Now was quite possibly the worst of all times that this could have possibly happened... and the circumstances were almost too much to deal with. At the same time he was flooded with awe, the feeling of stress and uncertainty was throbbing in the back of his head. He finally removed his sunglasses and set them on the table, going eye-to-eye with Chloe as he asked the question.

"You said that you had to get her into hiding. Why?"

"You know why, Steve. If you really think hard about it, you know why."

Steve knew the answer, of course. How the hell could he not have forgotten it. Just the thought of the answer had him seething with hatred- and worry at the same time. It was an answer he was again hoping he'd finally made it away from, but obviously it wasn't going to be that simple. When the words came out, they were cold, flat and unemotional as he voiced the name of the murderess.

"Hallie."

"That's right. You know her, you know how sick, twisted, manipulative and evil she can be. She's tried to kill Heather multiple times and she's tried to have you killed twice that we know of. You know damn well, that if there's a Steve Jason Junior headed into the world, she'll jump at the chance. Especially if she can do that and kill Heather at the same time. That's why I had to tell you, Steve. This is something you can't run away from, and it's something we need your help with."

"Anything I can do, I'll do it." Steve answered.

"There's one thing. We can't find Hallie right now, but you're good at tracking people, at psychologically analysing them. I know you'd have observed Hallie's behavior and I know you'd have it written down somewhere. If you can get me that... then I can keep an eye on her and get word to you if we ever need your help."

"You're right. I took some notes down. And other observations. I figured we might need them. There's a place in Club Paramount in Los Angeles, where I used to work. A vault. It's in my office there. The vault's got a lot of my older weapons and combat manuals and martial arts techniques and stuff I've collected over the years, but there's a file on Hallie in there. The problem is..." Steve gritted his teeth, "I'm the only one who knows how to get in. Or can get in."

"You know what I'm about to ask, don't you?" Chloe sighed regretfully.

"Goddammit. I didn't want to go back to California. I got out of there for a reason, and it's because of that reason I can't go back. Within five minutes of getting off a plane, there'll be fans mobbing me. Within ten, there'll be a bunch of celebs wanting a favor. Within fifteen, the Richards Conglomerate will want to have a few words with me. Within twenty, Jonathyn Brown'll try to get me to sign a contract, and by the end of half an hour, the Setsujoku-Kai'll probably rock up trying to get me to go on some secret mission someplace. That life's over, Chloe! I don't want it back!" Steve's voice was getting heated now. She simply shrugged.

"I can't get in there any other way. I hate to ask this, Steve, I really do, but think about it. Your ex-girlfriend needs your help, your unborn child needs your help. I know you wouldn't refuse them. And think about it... those people who are causing you problems. Surely there's something in the Vault that can help you deal with them?"

She was right, of course. Heather couldn't be abandoned. Even if Steve wasn't ready to see her or reveal himself, and even if he wasn't sure what if anything would happen there, he couldn't allow Hallie to get the drop on them and to do that, he had to get Chloe what she needed. It was his responsibility and it was the right thing, even if it meant going back into the lions' den to get what he needed. And Chloe made a good point. There were certain items in the Vault that could be... of use against Nicholas Jaxx. Certain moves, certain pieces of knowledge, certain fighting techniques... and certain weapons. While he was there, he could see what he could find. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone and finally, at long last, begin heading back to some kind of normalcy in his life...

"Alright. I'll do it."

"Thank you..." A relieved sigh escaped Chloe as her shoulders slumped and she finally seemed to relax, "I'll come with you, of course. It'd be wrong of me to send you there along, pick the gear up and come back here."

"I'm going with you too, SJ..." Sergei suddenly spoke up, breaking the silence he'd held for some time now, "I figure that you could use a little backup, if things over there are as volatile as you say they are. Who knows? Maybe I can help."

"It's settled, then. The three of us'll have to go. Dougy, you've gotta keep things running here and Stretch can help you. And Kate... well, I doubt she'll want to go anywhere with me." He turned to face Chloe, "We'll meet you in California in a few days. Try not to raise the alarm too much. Don't even let Talia know we're coming. I know she can help us, but it'd be better if nobody knew. If we're lucky, we might even be able to get inside Paramount without anybody knowing we're in the state. Getting out... well, that might be a little harder."

"Alright then, Steve. I will. And..." Finally, the morose, sombre mood that had been permeating the area since Chloe's revelation faded as she finally smiled once again, "...thank you, once again. You're giving up a lot to help when you could have just said 'not my problem'. Nice to see you've still got that kind streak in you."

Steve couldn't help but chuckle at that- but it was a decidedly dark chuckle.

"Enjoy it... cause once we're back from California and we make it to Boston... 'kind' is the last thing you'll know me as."

[CONTINUED: Promo - The Undeniable Words #14, 5/23/08]

I know you're stupid, Jaxx. I think we've all pretty much come to that conclusion as the weeks have gone by. But surely even a man of your limited intelligence must have wondered why I never reacted to your assaults with the kind of overkill or bloodlust that you showed? I mean, you know I'm capable of it, right? If you actually 'learned' anything and actually found out something about who you were dealing with, you'd know I'm not exactly shy about unleashing massive amounts of damage if the situation required it. And I think you know that if I wanted to bloody you up and put you in a hospital every week until the PPV, I could have done it. Didn't you even stop to think about it? Didn't you realize that I didn't exact full bloody retribution on you, and didn't you consider for the slightest second that there may have been a reason I didn't? I mean, come on, one sai-slice up against week in and week out of beatings? Surely you knew there was something to that.

You should, because it's one of the reasons why my decimation of you this time around will be so complete. Oh, I've wanted to beat you black and blue and choke you half to death. I've wanted to bludgeon you and batter you and make you beg for mercy. I've wanted to do things to you that'd have the Pantheon surrendering to me out of terror that I'd do the same to them. But every single time that urge has come up- and believe me, Jaxx, it's come up a hell of a lot- I've suppressed it. I've frozen it, forced it under the surface and stored it somewhere. I've had to grit my teeth and literally keep myself from grabbing the nearest concrete block and dropping it on your head. Do you even know why I did it?

Because when you really get down to it, all of these week in, week out beatings mean nothing. In case you didn't get it, I'm still standing and I'm still capable of fighting. For everything that you've thrown at me, I'm still coming for you, and the problem is, you've exerted some of your anger and your killer instinct in doing so. You vented and channelled that anger with every assault. You were too weak to keep it for when it really mattered. You don't have as much anger stored up as me, Jaxx. You don't have as much rage and as much pent-up aggression, because you've been letting it out every week. I deliberately denied myself that luxury in the knowledge that if I couldn't puree you this week or that, I'd get to do everything I wanted at the PPV. I think it's a pretty fair thing to say that it could easily come down to who has the most fury directing their assaults- cause they're likely to do the most damage and they're likely to stop at nothing with no mercy for their opponents. Unfortunately for you, I have it in surplus, while you wasted it at every opportunity.

And before you even think about saying it- I'm not going to overload on that rage. I'm not going to make some 'mistake' out of anger that you'll capitalize on. So don't bother lying to the crowd and claiming you've mentally played me when really you're trying to get yourself out of the hole you've dug. Even when I'm at my most homicidal, I can remain cold, calm, in control and calculated. That's where you and I differ. You're too stupid to control yourself. I don't even think you could have stopped yourself coming out week in and week out if you wanted to. You're controlled by your emotions and your inferiority complex. I command my emotions and I make them work for me. What's going to be a colossal disadvantage for you is going to be a devastating advantage for me. The most hilarious thing is, it's a failure you brought on yourself. All you had to do was show restraint. Pity you're too inferior to even do that.

As it is, Jaxx, you've now made a fatal error- not just for yourself, but for the Pantheon. Because you've pushed me too far, your annihilation at my hands is only the beginning. Once I've pasted you all over that ring- and believe me, I will paste you all over it before I put the Bloodshed Championship back above the ring out of your grasp forever- I might just think about punishing Ebdon and Payne for their incredibly stupid mistake. I gave them a pass, Jaxx. I was actually going to turn a blind eye to the Pantheon and let them do what they wanted so long as they stayed out of my way- hell, I said it to Payne himself that I had no problem with him and that my match with him was simply a warning as to what'd happen if he came after me. Up until you got involved and called them in against me, they might have actually not only survived here, but actually been able to maintain their control of PDW as long as they stayed out of my way.

Now they won't. Now they will not only not have control, but their time in existence is ticking. All because of you. When you roll into Disclosure in your wheelchair a few weeks from now, unable to walk on your shattered legs, you will have to look at Pete Ebdon's pale, frightened face, and you will have to watch a stunned-for-the-first-time-in-his-life Joshua Payne huddle in a corner desperately trying to pretend that he's not about to lose his grip on PDW, and you will watch as the Pantheon teeters on the verge of being torn apart and laid waste to by me personally- and you will come to the fateful realization that this is all your own fault. You will realize that you not only annihilated yourself, but you annihilated your entire stable just by refusing to accept defeat and by continuing to try to put me on the shelf. And there'll be one phrase that will continually go through your head over and over again until I finally put your pathetic stable out of its misery:

'If only I had left Steve Jason alone. I should have left Steve Jason alone. Then my stable would still be in one piece. Then my suck-up friend wouldn't be beaten to a bloody pulp. Then the champion whose leg I've been getting it on with won't be about to lose his title. Then I'd still be able to walk'.

Well done, Nicholas Jaxx. You just killed the Pantheon... and you just signed the death warrant on your own livelihood.

And that... IS UNDENIABLE!