FADE IN...
The scene, poolside at an Aspen, Colorado resort. The players, Matt Johansson and Bryan Storms, collectively known as the tag team Second Coming. At the moment, Johansson is repeatedly bouncing off the diving board into the water below with a variety of dives, flips, and cannonballs. Opposingly, Storms is sitting comfortably in a chaise lounge sipping a cocktail, his customary indulgently cocky smile on his face.
JOHANSSON:
Hey, look at me! LOOK AT ME, BRYAN!!!!
The camera pans back over to Storms, who pulls off his tinted yellow sunglasses.
STORMS:
Yeah, good for you, Matt!
Storms laughs derisively
F*ckin' juvenile. Wouldn't tag with another man in this business, but still, there are times, see NOW, when I swear his hockey player daddy body checked him a little too hard as a kid.
Anyway...
Once again, the S-C are on the P-P-V, and as I showed when I made that little dwarf John Doe scream for mommy at Unleashed, Matt and I always make a big impact when the curtain goes up on the biggest stage in wrestling. This time, at Wrestleverse I, we dance one more time with the two freaks who are just our absolute FAVORITE people in the world by now, Golem and X-executioner.
Now, in the past, I've admittedly been a little harsh on you boys, ridiculing you for your, shall we say, unorthodox mannerisms. But, boys, can you really fault me for that? I mean, who couldn't find something eminently mockable about your little ragtag goth duo?
But, I digress, because in fact my esteemed colleague and I have yet to get a victory over Golem and X-executioner, though certainly not through any fault of our own. In Nashville, we gave Golem and X their opportunity to have a match with the stipulation of their choice. ONE stipulation. Golem, however, took advantage of our kindness to create an impossible situation where, even though we were clearly better that night, he and his partner were able to escape with a notch in the win column.
At Wrestleverse, however, we play in our element. Tables. Ladders. Chairs. High flying, exciting, hardcore action, with a shot a the tag titles on the line. The shot that was stolen from us last week by Lindsay Troy and Christian Sands. This time, there is no substitute for failure. No element on heaven or on earth will stop us this time.
That ladder is just waiting for me to climb it, to grab the contract that will seal our destiny as the greatest tag team in the world today. You should all know by now that when you give Storms and Johansson an opening, we'll rush right through it like a bullet train.
So G, X, you can bring your Lord of the Rings mysticism back one more time, and this time we'll definitively show you that there is no match for the Second Coming in EPW. If you boys choose to dignify us with a response, we'll see the both of you soon. If not, make sure to bring the A-Game to Denver.
Until then, we'll just sit back, relax, and wait for the spotlight to shine on EPW's finest duo.
Later, freaks.
The camera pans back towards Johansson, who is still completely unaware of the speech ending, as he continues to jump recklessly from the diving board. Storms simply stares and laughs as the scene comes to a close.
...FADE TO BLACK
