Wrestlemania X Card and TTs

[Rikishi]

Rikishi looks Father Mitchell up and down for a moment. He raises the microphone to his mouth.

Rikishi: It's strange to hear you talk a big game about what the monster's ball is and what it means to survive. After all you're not the one stepping into the ring with me, he is. And trust me I'll bring a beatdown he's never had before. But hey, at least you'll have a front row seat to the action.

Rikishi scowls and moves his face closer to Father Mitchell's.

Rikishi: I can't wait for you to stand by helplessly and watch me destroy your monster. I think it's about time I pay him back for what happened during my debut match here. But don't forget you're not off the hook either. After all you had a helping hand in his little attack. Just because you're not stepping into the ring with me doesn't excuse you from getting a beat down either. Your time will come soon after.

Rikishi pulls back a bit and turns his attention toward Abyss. Rikishi begins to smirk.

Rikishi: You can explain to your father what I've got in store for him. Remember, you got up close with my monstrous ass the last time we stepped into the ring together. Are you ready for another Stinkface? Because I've been itching to get my hands on you once more, and come WrestleMania I ain't holding a damn thing back. I've tried playing nice and fair, but obviously you had other plans last time we went toe to toe. So now that we are on equal footing you're in for one hell of a beatdown.

Rikishi drops his smirk, lowers his microphone and keeps his eyes locked on Abyss.

[ultrainstinct]

An exasperated look just shines over Seth’s face as he shakes his head in utmost disgust. Seth looks away from Sami, he can’t even stomach the thought of looking at his after that response. After a few long moments, Seth finally stares back at Sami and raises the mic to his face.



Seth Rollins: Sami you are truly an amazing character, I’ve really got to give it to you. That long winded, nonsensical rambling that you would call an actual response, was littered with your abhorrent imagination. Obviously, I’m no hero righting the wrong doings of others. I have no desire to be a cop or some pretend superhero in a cape and a costume. I am just the one and only; SETH --FREAKING --ROLLINS!! I CAME BACK to prove to myself that I still got it! I CAME BACK to make more legendary and breathtaking moments inside this squared circle! I don’t want anything easy, that’s never been my M.O. I’ve always been a man that fought hard, tooth and nail, for everything. I only want the things that I truly deserve, I could never take a handout. You thinking that I returned because I thought this federation—the BEST organization in the world—was going to LIE down on their back for ME?



Seth points to himself, asking the question out loud once more even though everyone knows the answer except Sami.







If an ounce of you genuinely believes that, then you really don’t understand the force that you’re going to be up against at WrestleMania. A slightly educated person is intelligent enough to understand that there are plenty of things that they do not know. An idiot is a person that’s so ignorant that not only do they lack the ability to understand the world around them, but they also lack the ability to truly decipher their own incomprehension and short comings in whatever subject there may be. And then folks-- there’s Sami Zayn—a man drunk off the stench of his own bullshit, swerving and speeding on the wrong side of traffic. He’s on the I-95, going about 95, he passed the hall marks of dumbass and drunken idiot about 15 minutes ago. He’s out of control and he’s about due for a crash. Will it be from another vehicle? Or will it be from the inevitable curb stomp that you are past due to receive?



Seth pauses, glances at the crowd, then back to Sami.



That is the million-dollar question and the million-dollar answer will be delivered at WrestleMania, where I plan on EMPHATICALLY beating you. Before that ensues, I must ask, is it the ear wax that’s clogging your ears? Or is it that stupid hat and moronic beard that’s not allowing that body of yours to get enough blood circulation? I don’t know who you speak of when you refer to ‘destroying,’ but it’s not me. Since I have returned, I’ve been about steady improvement and progression leading to perfection. I’m about answering my higher call from the Universe and the stars and if I were a betting man—I’d say it’s my destiny to WHOOP your red headed ass at WrestleMania. Even if you’re too naïve to get it, you WILL be EMBRACING THE VISION soon enough….



Seth lowers his mic and stares at Sami, as if daring him to speak again.

[Deleted]

The Truth Reigns by CFO$ playing throught the arena, a kind of mix of sirens and a chopper battling against eachother as we see a new face, a tall, dark young man standing in the UWF ring. Dressed in black cargo pants and his Head Of The Table t shirt, like a general, this man is an impressive physical specimen. Tall and built, the mans long black hair is wet and curly, falling far below his shoulders as he cracks his knuckles, a microphone in hand. Whoever this impressive, intimidating newcomer is, we're about to be told. Slowly and methodically, the newcomer raises the microphone slowly up to his mouth.







Roman Reigns: "Well, well, well...As I stand here, I can tell that you people gathered here tonight have NO...IDEA...At just what your witnessing. Your witnessing something that's going to be talked about by generations after generations...After generations. And FRANKLY...It's a GOD..DAMN, CRYING SHAME...That you morons have no idea just who I am. I am the PERSONIFICATION...Of pure, raw INTENSITY...At it's finest. I am the latest and greatest in a long line of samoan heritage to step foot inside this sacred..squared...circle. This specimen, this WARRIOR that stands before your eyes...Goes by the name of Roman...Reigns.



(There’s some slight murmuring around the stadium, some fans obviously not familiar with the name talking amongst themselves before their attention is grabbed by a deafening roar.)



Roman Reigns: Did you all get that? Was that all received LOUD...and...Clear. I want to ensure that you all remember that name, my name, because from here on out that is ALL THAT YOUR GONNA BE HEARING! I am the FUTURE of pro wrestling, and that's not just me running my mouth, that is the TRUTH! This business is being pumped around my veins as I stand here right now, the wrestling industry is in my BLOOD! And when you consider that I'm a 6 foot 3, 281 pound HUMAN...WRECKING BALL...That's one unstoppable, unforgettable combination. And from tonight, every single WANNABE back in that locker room is gonna experience it first hand! The fact that they all have contracts and I have to come in and work my way up is nothing more than a complete TRAVESTY! But luckily...It's one that I quite ENJOY! Y'see, that's what sets me apart from every jackass back there, your John Cena's, your Roddy Piper’s and whoever else back there who is nowhere near IMPORTANT enough to be on MY RADAR. The difference between me and them is that I LIVE FOR THIS! Competition is what gets my blood PUMPING! It gets my veins FLOWING! Wrestling, competing, FIGHTING...MAULING, MAIMING, DESTROYING OTHER MEN...Your average star in the back is here because they have some kind of 'look'...They're here to entertain, to throw out a smart, funny catchphrase, to put on a show for you morons and then want no part of things when they get ugly...THAT is this industry in the year 2021 and its something that I AM HERE TO...CHANGE! I'm here to FIGHT, to make this industry that’s in my blood, I'm here to make it GREAT AGAIN! The men who run this company, John Cena, Dolph Ziggler, they are PRIME EXAMPLES...Of everything that is wrong this industry these days...And the fact you people look up to them, adore them, cheer for them...It's a joke. But furthermore, the fact that I...Am NOT the head of this company and keeping this industry REAL...Keeping it how it was for my FATHER...MY BLOODLINE...It's nothing but an INJUSTICE!!! And I am here to BE THE JUSTICE! To right the wrongs... And I will tear through every single, over-hyped, fake so called superstar this company can throw at me! GIVE ME JOHN CENA! I'LL BREAK HIM INTO PIECES! And I...WILL...LOVE IT! And EVENTUALLY...You all will grow to love it. I am Justice, and you ALL...WILL EMBRACE IT! And tonight is the night it begins, this the date that you all will MARK on your calenders, that you will ALL tell your grandkids years from now...This is the night that this Samoan WARRIOR...Became the answer to the prayer of professional wrestling! The clock is ticking UWF...Time is melting away for your roster...So as far as I'm concerned...STACK...YOUR STARS...UP...HIGH! The higher? THE BETTER! And one by one I will tear them apart and toss them aside and take their place, their standing in this company until I have BROKEN AND ENDED YOUR CHAMPION...And until I come to this ring, holding YOUR Holy grail and can stand here as not only the living breathing personification of INTENSITY...BUT THE LIVING...BREATHING...SOUL...OF PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING! You boo me? YOU ALL BOO ME? Your all stupider than you look, cause in a few weeks time you'll be CHEERING ME, THANKING ME...BEGGING ME TO NEVER...Ever leave, or allow things to go back to how they used to be! You'll ALL...SEE...And you will ALL LEARN TO LIKE IT! BELIEVE IN THE TRUTH! ROMAN REIGNS...IS THE TRUTH! ROMAN REIGNS IS PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING...AND ROMAN REIGNS...WILL BE...UWF’s JUSTICE!



(Reigns pauses, breathing heavily for a few moments after his latest intense outburst. The audience boo's and jeers continue to rain down upon Reigns, as he licks his lips, running his hands through his hair before continuing.)



Roman Reigns: Rome wasn't built in a day...And it couldn't be brought down in a day...But this ROMAN WARRIOR...will bring this company CRASHING TO IT'S KNEES...Sooner...Rather than Later. That clock that was ticking? It's running down, AND DOWN...AND DOWN...JUST LIKE UWF'S ROSTER...WILL BE CRUSHED DOWN...INTO THE DUST! Take this as your warning. And if I were any of you sitting in the back? I'D BELIEVE...IN ROMAN REIGNS!! And most importantly, to my opponents, YOUR HELPLESS SOULS. I'D SURE AS HELL...BE...PREPARED!!! At Wrestlemania, I will win this ladder match, and become number one contender for the TV Championship. I’ll prove why IT’S MY YARD, AND WHY I’M THE HEAD OF THE TABLE.



Reigns slams his microphone down to the mat with a static thud, staring intensely out at the sea of UWF Fans gathered in attendance booing this newcomer and his first words. With a small, dry smirk, Reigns flips his back and makes his way towards the ring apron, as we fade to a commercial break.

[ដានីយ៉ែល]

(King Hornswoggle takes the microphone from some random guy at ringside and starts talking.)


KH: Bravo to all of you. Boys and girls of all ages, we got a damn winner out of all my opponents in this arena tonight. Now, I would insert myself out of this match so easily, but I am not a damn coward. I may be drunk all the time, but I am still going to wrestle in this match, because I want to and there is not a damn thing anyone of you can do about it. I don't care what skills set that you all have that are better than my own. I am still going to step in that ring and fight all of you singlehandledly.


(He then pours some of his beer on some random people's head at ringside before speaking again.)


KH: Am I suppose to be afraid of anyone of you now? No, I am not afraid to fight for my own well being. I don't need the luck of the Irish to help me for this match. I will still drinking and partying like nobody is here after I win this match. Yes, I am a damn midget that managed to win a championship on his own.  I don't re if noe of you people respect me or not. I don't mind playing dirty in this match to win. So I will do whatever it takes to win. There are no allies in this match If I lose, I will leave the Wrestlemania X with no complaints coming from me. I will stand tall and move on to the next path. While most of you will moaning and groaning about how you won or lose this important match. Heck, you do you and I will do me. Do I got people that support me and love me for who I am? Yes. So, buckle your seats and strapped on tight. This ride is going to get ugly. Ladies and gentleman, King Hornswoggle is coming to rule this town at the biggest stage of them all and that is Wrestlemania!


(He then goes back to sit on a random fan's chair in the crowd, while taking a huge gulp of his alcohol down his throat.)

[George]

The Warhorse lifts his microphone yet again to his mouth, not his ass, surprisingly.

WARHORSE: IT’S FUNNY THAT FOR HOW INTELLECTUAL YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU CAN’T EVEN COUNT MATCHES, PUNK. I MEAN HELL, IT’D TAKE A FOOL TO THINK THAT THE WARHORSE IS ON A DOWN AND OUT STREAK, NOT HAVING A GODDAMN SLITHER OF FIGHT IN THESE BONES OF STEEL. IT’S FACTS THAT IT'S PRESENT. I KNOW YOU WATCH THE SHOWS BACK, AND YOU SEE THE WARHORSE TAKING ACTION WITH YOUR OWN EYES. YOU'D SEE THE WARHORSE DOING THE THINGS YOU DENY. WHEN YOU WANT TO RAKE BACK THE PAST IT'S ALL GOOD AND ALL, BUT DON'T TRY AND IGNORE PARTS, THEY COME AROUND THE CORNER WITH A VENGENCE.  THE WARHORSE CAN AND WILL HURT YOU, PUNK, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU WANT TO FACE IT. I MEAN HELL, IF THE WARHORSE WASN’T A THREAT TO THE GREAT CM PUNK WOULD BE ABLE TO WALTZ ON OUT HERE BY HIMSELF.

NO, THE MAN HAS TAKE THE ACTION TO BE THE WORLD’S BIGGEST MOTHERFUCKING PUSSY?!

YOU CALL IT PROTECTION, BUT YOU KNOW DAMN WELL IT’S JUST YOUR BUTTON TO CLICK WHEN YOU WHEN YOU WANT TO THROW ALL YOUR TOYS OUT OF YOUR PRAM AFTER YOU REALISE, AFTER ALL, WHAT LITERALLY EVERY SINGLE LIVING SOUL ON PLANET EARTH KNOWS, THAT THE WARHORSE IS CLOSER THAN YOU’D LIKE TO ADMIT TO TAKING THAT CHAMPIONSHIP RIGHT OFF YOUR SHOULDER WITH A 1-2-3.

The Warhorse eyes down the championship with a vague look over Punk for the billionth time tonight, he cares more for that. He doesn’t care for Punk’s bullshit prehistoric roleplay.

SEEING AS YOU SEE ME AS SOME BRUTE, SOME SLOBBERING DOG FOAMING AT THE MOUTH LIKE CUJO WAITING FOR A HEFTY BITE. WELL, IT’S ALL GOOD YOU CATCHING THAT IMPRESSION, BECAUSE WELL, I GODDAMN KNOW AND I LOVE IT WITH ALL MY BEING! I’M LIVING IN REALITY, IN THE SAME REALITY ANY NON PRIVILEGED PERSON LIVES IN. ANY PERSON WHO HAS TO WORK FOR WHAT THEY GET. ANY PERSON WHO DOESN’T SPEND THEIR TIME DROOLING AT RENAISSANCE GALLERIES AND GROOMING THEIR BEARDS. PEOPLE THAT DRINK BEER, PEOPLE THAT LOVE A GOOD TIME, PEOPLE THAT KNOW THE INEVITABILITY THAT FACES THEM WHEN THEY FALL DOWN TO THE GROUND AND DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ASS. WHY? YOU GOT A PROBLEM WITH IT, SUBURB BOY? YOU LIVING UP THAT GENTRIFIED CHICAGO LIFE?

STAY MAD FOR ALL I CARE, FRANKLY, I’D RATHER YOU TO, BECAUSE THEN YOU’D HAVE SOME EXCUSE WHEN IT ALL CRUMBLES DOWN. I BET YOU LOVE TO COVER ALL OF YOUR THOUGHTS, ALL OF THE IRRATIONALITIES WITH WORDS, WITH LITERATURE, WITH A STEP ABOVE WHAT YOU CAN ACTUALLY COMPREHEND. WITH MORE WORDS, I BET IT PATCHES THE HOLE IN YOUR SOUL THAT GAPES SO EMPTY, THINKING ABOUT SHOVELLING SOME MORE GRAPES INTO YOUR CRACKED, GENTRIFIED MOUTH.

IT’LL HELP YOU ACCOMPLISH YOUR GOALS, LIVING THE DREAM OF A REAL, REAL, REAL RENAISSANCE WHITE MALE. I BET IT REALLY RUBS YOU UP THE RIGHT WAY, GREASES YOU UP FOR YOUR PUBLIC NUDITY AND CLOTH WEARING. HELL, IF YOU’RE SO INTO THE CULTURE WHY DON’T YOU LIVE INTO YOUR DEEPEST PASSION OF JUST FORCING SOME GIRL TO LIKE YOU, SEEING AS YOUR WIFE HAS GONE FULL COLD TURKEY ON YOUR SCHTICK.

The Warhorse laughs, but still keeps looking across in the same direction.

I DON’T HAVE THAT PROBLEM, I HAVE LOVE ON MY BACK. I HAVE THE PASSION AND THE WILLPOWER TO PULL A DOWNED ARMY BEHIND ME RUNNING A MARATHON. THE KNOWLEDGE THAT I CAN FIGHT, THE KNOWLEDGE I WILL TO DO WHAT’S RIGHT. NOT ALL THIS POSER, WANNABE INTELLECTUAL BULLSHIT. FRANKLY PAL, IT READS OFF LIKE SNAKE OIL SELLER CRAP, AND NOT A PERSON IS BUYING IT. DON’T GET PISSED KNOWING YOUR PRODUCT IS THE SHITS.

The Warhorse gives an even more vague point of view look upon the not-so-dynamic duo.

IF YOU NEED YOUR BOUNCER TO BUNDLE UP SOME MORE GRIT POWER FOR YOU, STAY DOWN THAT LANE, FANCY BOY, BUT DON’T CRY WHEN THE WARHORSE BREAKS ONE OF THOSE OH SO PRECIOUS NAILS. THE ONLY NAILS THE WARHORSE CARES FOR ARE THE ONES THAT THE WARHORSE EATS FOR BREAKFAST, SOLID STEEL.

YOU WOULDN’T KNOW ABOUT THAT THOUGH, A LIGHT MAYONNAISE IS A LITTLE TOO HEAVY FOR YOUR FRAGILE LITTLE TUM-TUM. THE WARHORSE SEES THAT PUSSY SHIT AT ITS CORE, BUT WELL, YOU’VE ALREADY PROVED YOURSELF TO BE THE BIGGEST ONE IN THE WORLD. THE WARHORSE COULD NEVER MATCH YOUR LEVEL OF BEING THAT COWARDLY, NO. THAT’S A CHALLENGE THE COWARDLY DOG WOULD STRUGGLE TO CHASE.

THE WARHORSE LOVES REALITY, THE WARHORSE EVERY DAY FACES WHAT CARDS ARE IN THE WARHORSE’S DECK AND HE GOES FOR THE TOP HAND, WHILE YOU’D SETTLE WITH A PAIR SEEING AS YOU... LACK A PAIR. AND YOU CAN’T EVEN DENY IT, YOU CAN’T EVEN HIDE BEHIND YOUR FACADE AND BRING A SHIELD UP AROUND IT, THE WARHORSE HAS BEEN AN OPEN BOOK SINCE DAY ONE, AND I THINK WHAT SCARES YOU THE MOST ABOUT THE WARHORSE IS THAT YOU KNOW THIS TRANSPARENCY IS TRUE.

AND IT SHOWS A GRIM FUTURE FOR ONE PEPSI DRINKER… IN THIS RING… HOLDING THE UWF INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPIONSHIP.

Warhorse laughs.

BUT YOU SAY YOU DON’T SEE IT. YOU SAY IT YET ARE SO OFFENDED BY THE MERE CONCEPT OF THE WARHORSE. YOU DON’T SEE THE MAN, THE FIGHTER, THE PERSON WHO FUELS THE HORSEPOWER. YOU’D THINK THAT YOU’D BE TRYING TO GET MY GOLD, PUNK. WELL, THAT’S IN MY BACKYARD, AND YOU AIN’T GETTING NEAR IT, BESIDES, THAT’S NOT WHAT WE’RE FIGHTING FOR. THE WARHORSE IS HERE FOR WHAT IS YOURS. THE WARHORSE IS THE REASON YOU DON’T FEEL SAFE. THE WARHORSE IS THE REASON YOU FACE YOUR WIFE WITH THE SAME SMILE YOU DID BEFORE YOU DECIDED TO GET OFF THE COUCH AND HEAD BACK HERE AND FIGHT.

AND IT’S CRUEL FOR YOU TO LIVE THAT WAY, PUNK. LIVING ON THE FEAR OF YOUR FAILURES, REACHING UP FOR SOMETHING JUST BEYOND YOUR SPACE OF MIND. AND THE WARHORSE THINKS YOU SHOULD CONSIDER SOME PROFESSIONAL HELP FOR YOU TO FIGHT YOUR INNER CONFLICT.

YET THAT COMES FROM THE WARHORSE, THE MAN YOU’LL SAY HAS NOTHING MORE TO SAY THAN WHITE NOISE. THE MAN WHO YOU SCOFF AT SIPPING YOUR BORDEAUX PEPSI COCKTAIL. THE MAN WHO HAS MORE WILLPOWER THAN YOU COULD EVER.

GO BASK IN YOUR ART RIDDEN MASTURBATION SESSION ELSEWHERE, PUNK, BECAUSE THIS IS THE LAND FOR MEN AND FIGHTERS. I DON’T SEE EITHER OF THOSE IN YOU. OOH BOY, I SURE SOUND LIKE YOU NOW?! UNDERESTIMATION AFTER UNDERESTIMATION, IT COMES RINGING OUT YOUR MOUTH LIKE A SIREN, BUT THE FACT OF THE MATTER IS I KNOW YOU GOT THAT FOR SOME REASON, CALL IT FATE, CALL IT LUCK, IT DOESN’T MAKE A DIFFERENCE TO THE WARHORSE. BUT YOU’VE GOT IT. YOU WANT ALL CHALLENGERS YOUR WAY, SO HERE I AM, THE MAN YOU CAN’T BEAT. TELL ME I’M WRONG, PUSSY.

The Warhorse lowers his microphone glaring across at the duo of Punk and Joe.

[Danny]

I forgot to put a timer for the deadline so I just added one. There’s only a little over 18 hours left before deadline. No more new rounds should be started.

[Fauche]

CM Punk lean up into and against the ropes, facing towards the ramp, contemplating just walking away. It's tempting - to put some distance between his eardrums and the ceaseless screaming. He can't do it, though. He just can't let someone else have the last word. That's never been an option.

Brooks turns back around to face down his Wrestlemania opponent. His expression says it all - a marked disappointment, if only it had been anyone else. But this is it. This is who he's stuck with. Samoa Joe makes the slightest gesture towards the contender, silently asking if Punk wants him to lay some smack down. The Champ shakes his head and waves his partner off before lifting his mic one more time.

Punk: See that? Joe's ready to rip your head off. Can't say I blame him. I'm about at that point too. But that kinda violence... here, now... that would only be a distraction. And an excuse. You can't afford the one and you don't deserve the other.



He stops and looks back over his shoulder, a hesitant pause like maybe now he can leave. Not quite yet, though. There's still something left to say.

I want to tell you something. I'm done arguing - done wasting my breath trying to reason with you. This fight's happening and you're set in your ways and everything you think is going to save you is exactly what's gonna cost you everything. So what? Whatever. We're past that now.

What I wanted to say was that a few months ago... this would be... December, I guess. Yeah. December. Slammiversary. I was actually in the building for that show. They wanted to bring a bunch of the old guys back to do some interviews and segments and just to hang out, but I just wanted to watch the show. So I got a private box and me and AJ and some pals just sat down and enjoyed.

Long story short, at some point, I think it was after the tag team match, one of the agents comes up to say "hi". I'm not gonna name drop here because I don't wanna bring him into this. But he's been around awhile. He was there in 2016 when I was on NXT, and we got to know each other pretty well. Naturally, we butt heads cause back then head-butting was my resting pulse. Water under the bridge. Anyway, we start catching up and we're talking about the fights and this guy's telling me all about how great WARHORSE is.

Punk points his finger right at his opponent's chest.

How great you are.

There's a quiet few seconds before he continues.

Now I had just seen you mix it up with Cedric Alexander and I thought it was okay. Nothing to write home about, but a good effort. This agent, though, he can't stop raving. Even when I bring up the big losses to Suzuki and Brock, Money in the Bank. He says "Punk, you don't get it. You don't see the hustle. You don't see the spirit."

He was right, too. I didn't. At that point, I was already in talks to come back. I met with EC3 after the show to has out my contract, actually, and next thing you know, well... here I am again. I don't know if you remember, but that first week they threw a press conference for me and I kicked things off by saying I wanted to face every single person on this roster. Threw out a few names, hinted at some others, but in the back of my mind, I was really curious about matching up against you. That agent I mentioned? I trust that guy. He's got a good eye, and I was surprised he saw something you that I didn't. I wanted to find out for myself.

Fast forward a few weeks and I get my chance. Right off the bat, I was honest with you. I told you that I saw unrealized potential - the discrepancy between my experience as a fan and a viewer against the word of man I counted as an expert. Word was that you were the future of this company and I invited you to live up to the hype. To bring it. No denying it, you hit a little bit harder than I thought you would. There was more gas in that little tank that I thought possible. And all that anger? It isn't just for show. When that bell rang, I felt it. But from thirty seconds into that match up until that double count-out, I had you figured. My friend was right. You had that hustle. You had that spirit. Just no focus, or discipline, or craft, or depth.

Punk lists off each of his opponent's perceived faults with harrowing emphasis - indictments delivered with extreme prejudice.

Every week after that, you've been gunning for me and I've outclassed you the two times we've matched up again. There's a simple explanation for that - I've solved the problem. I know how to beat you. Come Wrestlemania, you're gonna hit me hard again. You'll probably beat the living hell out of me because you're angry and that's what angry men do. You won't beat me, though. Not for this gold. Not when it matters. That's what champions do - and you'll never be one of us.



When you take your latest humiliating, big match "L" on the chin, there's a good chance Carter finally has the sense to terminate your contract and kick your ass to the curb. You know that, right? And in knowing that, you had to know that everything you just said was tantamount to a dead man's last words. And what did you have to say for yourself? BEER. PUSSY. METAL. All capped off with that tired old note - that you're a FIGHTER and the are no FIGHTERS who FIGHT like you FIGHT. A boring, uninspired, vague evaluation echoing out over and over until it fades into nothing. Meaningless. Like your career will be after I end it.

There's no sense in us arguing anymore. I'm dealing in concepts and philosophies that are beyond your pay grade and well outside your grasp. The best you can counter with is that you're proud to be the best representation of this country's trailer trash culture and that that somehow makes you a threat to me because I'm on of those "intellectuals" who has the audacity to read books or think outside the box or whatever. I'm not scared of you. I'm not mad at you. I'm just so, so sooooooooooo fucking annoyed at this point. I'm done giving you the platform that even hints that we're equals just like I'm done hoping that I'll find the correct combination or words that will convince you that you're a doomed asshole in way over his head.

What happens next is just going to have to happen. I'm the tornado tearing though your trailer park. A force of nature, unstoppable and unnegotiable. Whatever hustle or fight or spirit you bring to the table isn't going to matter because I'm a threat you can't just stomp through. When the dusts settles and the wreckage is laid bare for everyone to see, you can look up at me holding this hunk of gold and you can wonder why you ever gave up on crushing cans to come chase after me. You were so safe and sound among your peers at the bottom. The biggest and last mistake you'll ever make in the UWF is challenging CM Punk at Wrestlemania. See ya there, and uh... good luck.

Punk slings the belt over his shoulder and turns to go. He makes good on it this time, quickly heading up the ramp while boos over his departure soon morph into cheers for his opponent. Joe lingers behind a while longer, a threatening glare focused in on WARHORSE before he departs to follow the IC Champ to the back.

[Jimmy Uso]

[when everybody was fussing and complaining about the match they all heard some noise in the back area which it was The Marching band playing there instruments into the arena and after they stopped playing the drums they all started playing the time is now hit's in Cena comes out wearing a Cincinnati Bengal shirt and cap and he remains standing on the ramp while starring at them]

John|Cena: Yo Yo everybody knows that we in the ancient art of thug-a-nomics.
so you all better to learn to love it, because there's no replacing us the Buccaneers are queer, I'd rather cheer for the Bengals face it, me and Roman, a re- arrange I'm half rapper, and I'm half sports-entertainment you in danger, you from Florida, I'm from Boston new law enforcement like the three horseman Assortment, you need a cavalry to battle me I beat you down brutally and watch you die tragically I beat your father's family I beat your mother's your Cousin calls me a leprechaun always after my lucky charms {grabs area} physical storm prepare to throw down your keys yea, we back just like bell bottom jeans

John|Cena: Roman I see hit here glued to the screen, punching these keys,
watching everything you do on these internet feeds I download high speed all the files I need to make your hard drive crash, and to make your face bleed
you can't erase me
I'm gonna make you taste me
I'm a virus; I kill you the next time you face me
I'm jealous, you stole my shot at the brass ring
everybody knows that I'm the next big dog
you all bark, and no bite
you stole my spotlight
I'm the great white hope
you're the great white hype

if you an animal, then I'm going on Safari
I'm rocking PlayStation two, you can't figure out Atari
Look at these eyes, Roman, don't think that I won't shoot you
I'll leave you worthless, like a nerd with no computer
show the world that you can't even walk in my shoes

your finisher's the spear? Well mine's the FU

John|Cena: Dolph, I'm walking again
I'm back on my feet
and I'm holding down the streets
like a new pair of cleats
sacrificing sleep
so that in a few weeks,
I'll look you in the eyes and unleash the Showoff
above to prove you,
the unusual
things I can do to you
like take my fist and drive it right through you
I take you down Dolph
at any and all costs
You're Microsoft
I'm a Heavy hitter
when I stop, I don't back off
the king around here, you just another jack-off
you seen me before, Dolph, but never intense,
I'll fill you full of holes, like a chain link fence
Word, Life.

{John sits there and climbs up the ladder and waits for Reigns or Matt and Dolph Ziggler to respond back to him]

[gunn]

Mitchell looks at Rikishi, a mix of fear and anger on his face, looking up at the bigger man and then his monster he develops a small smirk.

Rikishi: You want to know how many times i’ve heard that Mr Fatu, “Watch out Mitchell, you’ll get yours eventually, but its never happened, I understand that eventually i’ll get my comeuppance but its not going to be at the hands of someone like you, someone who see’s a threat like Abyss and looks past them focusing on me.

Putting a hand on Abyss’s arm Mitchell’s smirk grows.

James Mitchell: Many people assume that Abyss is a mindless monster, that he only does this because I demand him to, truth is Abyss has one of the most cruel and calculated minds that i’ve ever seen, he knows how to make people suffer, he doesn’t need me to tell them that, his actions explain it clearly, he just needs me to give his future victims warning, that if they continue down this path they deal with him.

Mitchell motions for Abyss to follow him and they go towards the ropes, Abyss climbs over and goes to the floor. Mitchell climbs onto the apron and continues to speak.

James Mitchell: If what i’ve been trying to tell you these past few weeks and my lessons on hubris haven’t got through that thick skull of yours yet Mr Fatu then I guess a practical lesson will be needed, this Sunday at Wrestlemania I hand my duties over to Abyss and maybe then you’ll finally understand what it means to survive and if not, well at least Abyss will have some fun.

Mitchell smiles one more time as he jumps down from the apron and walks with Abyss up the ramp, however at the top Abyss takes the mic.

Abyss: RIKISHI. WRESTLEMANIA, CLICK DOOMSDAY

The two then leave Mitchell audibly cackling as they do.

[Rikishi]

Rikishi hangs over the apron as he watches Mitchell and Abyss make their way backstage. Once out of sight he walks into the center of the ring and raises the microphone to his mouth.


Rikishi: Do you see how quickly Mitchell wanted to leave the ring once he realized that he's an actual target in all this. This whole time he's hid behind Abyss slowly pulling at his strings, while hiding like a coward. Those are clearly the actions of one who's not fit to stand in the ring, much less be a manager. In a way I feel sorry for Abyss.


Rikishi shrugs for a moment before making his way back to the apron.


Rikishi: But at the end of the day Abyss is a man with his own consciousness. Which means I won't be feeling sorry when I hand him a beatdown this coming Sunday. I just want to assure all the fans who are still a little skeptical about me that you're in for one hell of a match. So far here in the UWF I haven't really shown a violent side, but think it for over a second. I've always fought fair and stayed within the confines of the match. But with a monster's ball I have free reign. Which means I can finally cut loose.


Rikishi smirks as he makes his way over to the corner.


Rikishi: And trust me, I will destroy Abyss at WrestleMania. It's about time we set this little feud. And when I'm done breaking Mitchell's monster I don't plan on winning with a pin. The only way I'm winning that match is by having Abyss tap out. You all remember how I won my match against Lance Storm last week, right? Well I can assure you that Abyss is in for the same fate. And once I'm done with Abyss, I'll be coming for Mitchell.


Rikishi begins to laugh as he begins to gyrate his ass against the turnbuckle as if performing a stinkface. After a few moments he slides out of the ring and slowly makes his way backstage. He stops at the entrance. Rikishi takes a moment to stare out into the crowd of fans before raising the microphone back to his mouth.


Rikishi: Mark my words. I'll be the one left standing once the match is over.


Rikishi lowers the microphone, shakes his massive ass for the audience to see. Rikishi gives his backside a few smacks before finally heading backstage.