No. He's not Chris Champion.
In the age of dragons and knights, in the time of wizards and magic, in a land of kings and nobles, there stood upon a hillside a single, symbolic kingdom. Miles below the hillside lay a quaint little town, under the shadow and protection of its kingdom, of the king that sat proudly upon its throne.
A throne that had, over time, seen many kings and many heirs to the right to sit upon it.
With this particular age, there came a king that rose to dominance after another, greater king had left the lands for so very, very long... and this king was, unfortunately, a very small one. Seemingly inept, a mere copy-- nay, a shadow-- of the former king... this desperate man struggled to make himself out to be something greater than he could possibly hope to be.
And so, of course, he began to crush all those who would oppose him, hoping nothing more than to earn the respect and admiration of his courts and his people. Political opponents became non-existent, the people watching on as their king simply... lost his mind.
And then, a presence came upon the town.
The presence was a familiar one, a powerful one that stood with an air of confidence, an air of bravado unlike any other... he was their former king, the greatest leader in the history of the little town. The people began to gather behind him, whisperings of an overthrow... the presence a wandering one through the streets as the words of the people began to reach the king.
Of course, the comically inept king nearly allowed his crown to slip from his head upon the news, bringing a chortle from the onlookers in his court. The king was furious, but uncertain. He was sweating profusely, trying to build himself up with false confidence and misguided hope... believing in the laughable notion that he could stop the former king on his way to reclaim the throne.
Strolling into his garden, the king came sword-in-hand, ready for the battle he knew was inevitable, against the oncoming presence that seemed so prepared to take him on, as if he were never even a legitimate threat to him taking the throne by force.
And, when the presence came upon the king... the king stopped it in its tracks.
Indeed, as history would show... the presence that had built himself up for greatness, that had brought forward such fantastic stories of the king's incompetence... he had not only failed to achieve his greatest desire, but he had spread falsehoods throughout the kingdom that turned out to be nothing but pure fantasy.
The short king was in fact a strong, honorable warrior. His ineptness as a ruler was pure fabrication that was created by the presence as a means of deceiving the king's people and, perhaps most pathetically... it was not the first time that the presence had done this.
Indeed, the presence of the former king was a truly amazing story-teller; however, when it came to the eternal struggle it had with the owner of its former throne... he always went back to the same story every time.
Despite how badly the king had hoped to see the former king bring something different to the battle the next time around, he... he simply went back to draw from the past, and then criticized the king for-- as he perceived it-- doing the same.
Yes, the skills of a warrior were ingrained in the spirit of the former king... but those skills had faded long ago, and all that was left was a desperate husk of a man trying to reclaim his former glory.
In a word, he was a fucking disappointment.
Not too long ago, I'd have never thought
I'd see the day where I'd be forced to go toe-to-toe with Champion
verbally in an effort to get him back to the man I know can kick my ass
out there in the ring, but here we are, folks... and lo and behold,
Champion's gone balls out in an effort to prove he's still the top dog
in the industry around here.
The original Martin Stu that everyone somehow adores despite his God Complex, Christopher Champion has been perhaps the greatest friend I've ever made in this business and the most fierce rival I've ever had the pleasure of facing, but ever since his return he's made the mistake of thinking he still has the swagger of the Champion from years past. Now, don't get me wrong-- he has the same skill, but skill was never something Champion was capable of defining, was it?
No... what made Champion wasn't his ability in the ring, it was his ability on the mic, his ability to play with your head. He's the kind-of guy Easy E'd be taking notes from if he ever hoped to verbally rip a person to shreds like he apparently dreams of doing, and he's the only legitimate threat in this match when it comes to my title now.
Know why I'm saying it now, instead of when I was back in the ring at Avulsion? Know why I'm admitting to Champ's potential to win it this Sunday? Simple: I brought his ass back from the brink on Avulsion.
See, what the naive little fucker didn't realize was that all he was set to do was make another lackluster performance like the one he'd pulled back at When Worlds Collide. He can preach all he wants about the showing we had, he can say whatever the hell he wants about the loss he suffered, but the fact remains that somewhere deep inside his dying brain, he knows that he wasn't at his best for that match, and he knows he wouldn't have been at his best for this one, either, if it weren't for the shit I spewed on-air that night.
Face facts, Chris... you and I know each other better than anyone else in the industry, we know how to get into each other's head and, for the first time in the history of our careers... the tables have turned on you. Not only did I win a match between us, but I said the very last thing you thought you'd ever hear me say: you heard me denounce you as a threat to me... and for that, you got yourself prepared for the biggest fucking war you've ever walked into against me.
Oh, and let me be clear, this is exactly what I wanted... albeit I didn't expect to have you go all-out against me like this, Chris. I expected your best to finally return, but when you started spewing your own fire back at me, well... I'd swear you were trying to do the same to me that I'd done for you.
Not only have you resorted to using the cliche stories you once went about trying to expose to the world in your tales woven against me, but you've even gone sofar as to fill your speeches with excuses about how you lost your shit back at When Worlds Collide. According to you, it's because I had the more graphically appealing outfit out there in the ring, instead of managing to overcome your ass with the skill that came inside the outfit... and to just hear you try and pull that sort-of stunt is honestly fucking apalling.
I expected better from you, Chris... when I went about trying to pull you from this slump I never thought you'd haul off and pull a Carmine on me! Shit, if I knew you were going to revert back to the Chris Champion of ancient days, I'd have left you the hell alone... the last thing I wanted to see was your deevolution going into this fucking thing.
Don't you get it, Chris?! I want to lose to you again! I want you to be back at your best, and I want you to kick my ass this Sunday. It's not because we'd be going back to something you feel is the status quo-- far from it, in fact-- the fact remains that you still have a lot left to learn... and I'll be damned to see you fail in your own epiphany before you pass on from whatever the hell sitcom plot device of an illness it is you're suffering from these days.
See, Chris, whether you realize it or not, this Sunday won't be our final destination... the in-fighting between us isn't going to end until one of us draws our last breath... and if you seriously think you can't keep going past this Sunday, you apparently have forgotten just who the hell you are. Win or lose, Chris... this Sunday's just another chapter in our story, and you can bet your ass there's still plenty more to come.
You're in this match as a challenger for a reason, Chris... you're going for a title you've held in the past plenty of times before because your ass failed the last time you stood against me. You've had this title enough times though to know what the hell a rematch clause is, Chris... and I don't care what you say about this Sunday, but if your ass manages to take this belt from me?
Bet your ass, you'll be defending it in a month's time after.
The difference between you and I, Chris, is that you've always stayed busy running from all the problems in your life one way or another. You've ran into the waiting arms of alcoholism, you've ran to other countries and into other problems just trying to escape your old ones, and when death came knocking at your door, you came running back here hoping for one last run before your fuse burns out.
Me? I'm simply moving forward. I don't stop coming, Chris... you should know that by now. While you're busy trying to run off from this supposed "final destination" of ours... I'm just looking to the future, to what lies beyond tonight's final outcome. See, win or lose, Chris... you and I both know we're just waiting for the next match between us to come around one more time.
This is our year, Chris... the year of the industry titans finally butting heads more times than they've ever done before in their careers. Even if I beat you this Sunday, you and I both know you'll just be ready for another round soon enough, and you'll be looking to recapture your honor and glory one more time. The cycle never ends, Chris, it just keeps spinning on into forever.
So lets get past all this bullshit you're trying to sell to everyone else, Chris... because if you really want to get into the character of your opponents... you're only letting someone else come in to criticize yours and, let's face the facts here, there's a lot more to talk about than anything I've said so far.
Stop resorting to the cheap shots and get back to where you need to be, Champ... because rest assured, whatever happens tonight won't be the end to our story-- you can guess again on that one-- and as far as I'm concerned, you never stood a chance to pen our final chapter.
The original Martin Stu that everyone somehow adores despite his God Complex, Christopher Champion has been perhaps the greatest friend I've ever made in this business and the most fierce rival I've ever had the pleasure of facing, but ever since his return he's made the mistake of thinking he still has the swagger of the Champion from years past. Now, don't get me wrong-- he has the same skill, but skill was never something Champion was capable of defining, was it?
No... what made Champion wasn't his ability in the ring, it was his ability on the mic, his ability to play with your head. He's the kind-of guy Easy E'd be taking notes from if he ever hoped to verbally rip a person to shreds like he apparently dreams of doing, and he's the only legitimate threat in this match when it comes to my title now.
Know why I'm saying it now, instead of when I was back in the ring at Avulsion? Know why I'm admitting to Champ's potential to win it this Sunday? Simple: I brought his ass back from the brink on Avulsion.
See, what the naive little fucker didn't realize was that all he was set to do was make another lackluster performance like the one he'd pulled back at When Worlds Collide. He can preach all he wants about the showing we had, he can say whatever the hell he wants about the loss he suffered, but the fact remains that somewhere deep inside his dying brain, he knows that he wasn't at his best for that match, and he knows he wouldn't have been at his best for this one, either, if it weren't for the shit I spewed on-air that night.
Face facts, Chris... you and I know each other better than anyone else in the industry, we know how to get into each other's head and, for the first time in the history of our careers... the tables have turned on you. Not only did I win a match between us, but I said the very last thing you thought you'd ever hear me say: you heard me denounce you as a threat to me... and for that, you got yourself prepared for the biggest fucking war you've ever walked into against me.
Oh, and let me be clear, this is exactly what I wanted... albeit I didn't expect to have you go all-out against me like this, Chris. I expected your best to finally return, but when you started spewing your own fire back at me, well... I'd swear you were trying to do the same to me that I'd done for you.
Not only have you resorted to using the cliche stories you once went about trying to expose to the world in your tales woven against me, but you've even gone sofar as to fill your speeches with excuses about how you lost your shit back at When Worlds Collide. According to you, it's because I had the more graphically appealing outfit out there in the ring, instead of managing to overcome your ass with the skill that came inside the outfit... and to just hear you try and pull that sort-of stunt is honestly fucking apalling.
I expected better from you, Chris... when I went about trying to pull you from this slump I never thought you'd haul off and pull a Carmine on me! Shit, if I knew you were going to revert back to the Chris Champion of ancient days, I'd have left you the hell alone... the last thing I wanted to see was your deevolution going into this fucking thing.
Don't you get it, Chris?! I want to lose to you again! I want you to be back at your best, and I want you to kick my ass this Sunday. It's not because we'd be going back to something you feel is the status quo-- far from it, in fact-- the fact remains that you still have a lot left to learn... and I'll be damned to see you fail in your own epiphany before you pass on from whatever the hell sitcom plot device of an illness it is you're suffering from these days.
See, Chris, whether you realize it or not, this Sunday won't be our final destination... the in-fighting between us isn't going to end until one of us draws our last breath... and if you seriously think you can't keep going past this Sunday, you apparently have forgotten just who the hell you are. Win or lose, Chris... this Sunday's just another chapter in our story, and you can bet your ass there's still plenty more to come.
You're in this match as a challenger for a reason, Chris... you're going for a title you've held in the past plenty of times before because your ass failed the last time you stood against me. You've had this title enough times though to know what the hell a rematch clause is, Chris... and I don't care what you say about this Sunday, but if your ass manages to take this belt from me?
Bet your ass, you'll be defending it in a month's time after.
The difference between you and I, Chris, is that you've always stayed busy running from all the problems in your life one way or another. You've ran into the waiting arms of alcoholism, you've ran to other countries and into other problems just trying to escape your old ones, and when death came knocking at your door, you came running back here hoping for one last run before your fuse burns out.
Me? I'm simply moving forward. I don't stop coming, Chris... you should know that by now. While you're busy trying to run off from this supposed "final destination" of ours... I'm just looking to the future, to what lies beyond tonight's final outcome. See, win or lose, Chris... you and I both know we're just waiting for the next match between us to come around one more time.
This is our year, Chris... the year of the industry titans finally butting heads more times than they've ever done before in their careers. Even if I beat you this Sunday, you and I both know you'll just be ready for another round soon enough, and you'll be looking to recapture your honor and glory one more time. The cycle never ends, Chris, it just keeps spinning on into forever.
So lets get past all this bullshit you're trying to sell to everyone else, Chris... because if you really want to get into the character of your opponents... you're only letting someone else come in to criticize yours and, let's face the facts here, there's a lot more to talk about than anything I've said so far.
Stop resorting to the cheap shots and get back to where you need to be, Champ... because rest assured, whatever happens tonight won't be the end to our story-- you can guess again on that one-- and as far as I'm concerned, you never stood a chance to pen our final chapter.