Hero no more.. that's the mind set I've had all along. No longer can I call myself a hero, no longer can I look out to those fans and believe in my own abilities like I used to. All these months since Violent A sucked the wind from my sails, I've been in a steady decline... yet all along, I hadn't counted on the one person who could make things right again.
Suki Minamoto saved me from myself.
I'm already a hero, I know this now... I've been one all along. All these childish efforts I've gone through to be one for the people... I might as well have worn spandex and tried to fly. These ideals that I've been mocking all this time have been the ideals I've lived by all my life... and to think, I didn't realize that all this time.
I'm sure you've all known the entire time, but a true hero sees his mistakes in due time and corrects them. Guess what, Kindred... I guess I am a hero.
So it's time I started acting like one to those who believe... and to do that, I have to be myself again. The person who stepped warily into the wrestling world all of those years ago with his eyes filled with determination, a drive unseen by rookies entering that place before.
I captured the North American Title three times in my HWF career-- the first within my first three months. I've captured the NLCW Heavyweight Title within my first year being here... and I have my shot at doing it again. They say the hero always wins in the end, and here I come to test that theory... and against me stands six men with an untested desire for that title.
It wasn't exactly the bunch everyone expected in the end... but they all have fought for this shot in the long run.
All of us deserve to be here... one of us deserves to win.
The hero always wins in the end... right?
That's what they've always said, and here I stand as the hero of this bunch. Kindred London has called me out on that, and in my own retaliation I tried to prove him wrong. Pointless, really... the man's known what he's been talking about all along. I've been having flashbacks of those darker days in my career thanks to the words he's said-- not because of them themselves, but the reactions that spawned from them-- and perhaps it was Kindred London that steered me on my path back to Suki.
I suppose I owe you a thanks... you brought out the best in me at Avulsion, now you've helped put my head back on my shoulders as well.
Last week you proved to me and the world that you could hold your own in the main event scene against the supposed best of the NLCW roster... and you shocked me when you started taking control for awhile. You've got great potential, Kindred... and I'll be man enough to admit that you had me beat that night, even if the official ruling was a no contest in the end.
You had the pin, you made the better choices... you out-wrestled the broken hero; and, in the end, your words helped make that hero look to the path which made him whole again.
You've ensured that I can bring everything I have into this match... all in the name of the challenge of the game. You have my respect, Kindred... and you certainly earned it.
Just like Alex Jay... the second of this merry crew which stands against me.
Here's a man that has never faced me in the NLCW, a man whom I've no clue what else but the best to expect from in the ring. The man many have faced, many have beaten, and many have fallen to. Above all else, Alex Jay is a man who won't stay down, even after everyone he's faced has thrown all they have in themselves right at him. Alex Jay, the Sultan of the Squared Circle, and quite possibly one of the biggest wildcards in this whole damn match.
He's another man who's earned my respect over time... his sheer ability in that ring has brought him to Sunday, and it will be that ability which lets him hold his own.
Look yourself in the mirror now, Jay... be thankful for what you've accomplished. You've done a great job... but will it be good enough for you to bring that title back home in the end? You can hold your own... but can you hold us down?
These questions, brewing in everyone's minds... the wonder as to how these wildcard entrants will handle themselves against the established men of the match...
I believe in the both of you.
A true hero always takes into account the abilities of his opponent, regardless as to whether or not he agrees with the methods used by that person. The both of you are great in the ring, and I see no reason to dislike either of you... but in that ring, I know you'll be looking to break me down.
You know I'll be looking to return the favor.
It's like Violent A has said... respect flies out the window when you step into the pit of hell.
You two will do fine-- regardless as to whether or not you win that match in the end. Just understand you'll have to go through hell-- Violent A, for once, isn't being over dramatic-- you've got all these other men with the same dreams in their eyes that you have in yours.
And among them are men who've climbed that mountain time and time again... but fell short in the very end. Men who've stretched to grab that prize, and constantly miss their target.
Men like 'Sugar' Shane Perry... a proverbial rabid animal entering this contest.
Time and time again, this man has churned out show-stopping performances. Night after night, he's amazed every fan in attendance. However... once that curtain falls, he's watched someone else raise their arm in victory. The world title is the white rabbit which has evaded Perry everywhere he's ran to... and no matter what effort he puts forth, it still escapes his grasp.
Final Solution was beyond the hell Violent A speaks of... and Perry fought with more intensity then I'd ever seen before. Yet look at what's coming, you guys... look at what we're stepping into: it's not as brutal as Final Solution, yet Perry will fight harder then even when he'd entered that match.
There's more at stake for him now then ever before... because this may very well be the last chance for him to prove himself to everyone involved.
Don't you see now? That it doesn't just fall on us any longer... we can't pick and choose our targets, because we all wear that red dot on our chest, and everyone's going to be aiming to take us down. What's happened in the past with our careers doesn't matter any longer, because Sunday... time will stand still. How long will the match go? 30 minutes... or three hours? We'll never know when we step in there... because with all the pain we'll be going through?
That adrenaline rush is going to be incredible.
We're all putting our dreams on the line here... we're all going to throw everything we have just for that one shot at our dreams. What hangs above the ring is a cord, and that cord will represent everything we've fought for this time.
Not the title-- it's now a symbol of honor for us all, and so we hang it so the world can see that honor and know, know that the right man has finally won.
The hero always wins in the end...
Some people consider Bucky Skyler the hero-- after all, he calls himself the savior of the NLCW. So what happens when so many men, men considered heroes among the company, step into the ring together. What happens to that phrase when it can't decide which hero is the best in the end?
They say these things... but you can't always trust them.
Bucky, what a long way we've came since last year. Money in the Bank... the ladder/cage combination match. You and I tore down the house on that night, and even after everything was over... you stood up. Even when you were beaten, Bucky... you didn't let it keep you down.
You marched onward into the Final Solution, and even after being burned horribly... you stood up again.
The hardcore hoodlum of the NLCW, the man who never says die... the self-proclaimed savior of a place that's held fine al along.
Bucky, you once questioned yourself as to whether or not there was anything in the NLCW that even needed saving, you once wondered why you were called the savior when there was apparently nothing left to save... but look what we're facing now. Dillon Durst threatens our territory, and if given enough time... he will try to take things over.
The savior of the NLCW... will you still call yourself that when the time comes that we need one?
Bucky, when you step into that ring Sunday... do you expect you'll walk out with the gold? Can you look into each of our eyes and say it as a fact?
If the answer is yes... you've been set up for the fall.
Each of us is willing to do the same thing, Bucky... and you know what happens when egos clash in that ring. I've seen careers ended in an instant, all in the name of proving yourself as being the best of the best. We can't make ourselves something we'll never be, Bucky... we can only stay true to ourselves.
Everyone has an off-night... you never know when yours is coming.
Frank Merritt can testify to this statement, Bucky... even if he finds himself unwilling to.
The man built like a tank, the monster of the NLCW. He steps foot in the ring and makes the officials tremble in terror of his presence, as he screams at the top of his lungs and pumps himself up for the war he's marching into.
This Sunday, a raging giant like Frank Merritt will not look at it any differently then he has with his other matches. He knows what's at stake... but he's known that all along. Merritt knows that he's had his off-nights; he's experienced them plenty of times when he's stepped in the ring with me-- and you can bet he'll be wary of it happening again Sunday.
The point? Each night... he steps out there and gives it all he has, as though the match was his last. For once, just maybe... he'll look at it like it wasn't his last. He's going to step into that ring, and he's going to know that he will walk back out. Shooting for the championship will be his goal now, not just inflicting pain to get the pin.
We're not going to see the aggressive Frank Merritt trying to rip us limb from limb, he'll have turned into a cold and calculated warrior of the ring.
The kind of warrior Alex has portrayed himself as all along, the kind of warrior who never says die. Even after turning to the supposed dark side, Violent A has continued to make that black rain fall all across the NLCW. He's grown stronger over time, though his mental stability might be put into question, and he wants this match more then anything right now.
He'll be more then what he's thought of himself... he'll be turning into something much worse. Close your eyes, imagine yourself on the battlefield; imagine a cloud of bullets flying overhead. Alex won't be the Rambo character that charges in screaming like he has before, he won't be the one to throw everything he has and pick you apart systematically like he has in the past...
... he'll be the sniper sitting high on the hill, picking you off as you try to duck and cover.
Violent A has shown this side of him before, the man who picks his spots and takes you down when the timing is perfect... and Sunday will be the night where he puts it into full swing. You see, while most of you may look at yourselves and believe that you will be the champion come the end of the night... I look at myself, and wonder if I'll walk out at all; champion or not.
The Wicked Clown is going to unleash as much hell on us all as he possibly can, and the pain everyone will have inflicted on each other by the end of the night will radiate throughout us all week long-- if not for months to come.
The hero always wins in the end...
Even when he's stepped into the mouth of hell itself.
My name is Dominic Pericolo, and long ago I was called a hero. For some time, I fooled myself into thinking that I wasn't.. but finally, I've accepted the truth.
The hero always wins in the end, and there's nothing that's going to change that.
I am a hero, even when I don't try to be. I am a hero, even when I don't know that I am. I am a hero, because I am Dominic Pericolo.
And the hero I hold inside of me survives because of the ones I love. It's time I started being their hero... instead of trying for the world itself. Let the fans call me what they will-- they'll make me their hero on their own, I'll just keep giving them who I am.
Kindred London. Alex Jay. Shane Perry. Bucky Skyler. Frank Merritt. Violent A.
Six men stretching their arms, ascending that mountain for the greatest prize. Not to take it back down, but to hoist it up for all the world to see.
Six men fighting for what they believe in, fighting for the dreams held in their eyes-- or perhaps the greed churning in their hearts-- until they simply cannot fight any more.
Six men... one hero.