Final Battle PPV Card and TTs

[Danny]

Live July 4th, 2021





G1 Climax Finals

AJ Styles vs CM Punk





UWF Championship

No Disqualifications
Bray Wyatt(c) vs Randy Orton





Intercontinental Championship

WARHORSE(c) vs Drew Galloway





Prime Time Medal

Eddie Kingston vs LA Knight





Television Championship

Rob Conway(c) vs Super Dragon vs Apollo Crews





Tomasso Ciampa vs Billie Kay




Seth Rollins vs Kazuyuki Fujita





Chad Gable vs Matt Sydal vs John Cena




*Card subject to change

[Dres]

The scene opens up in the backstage area where Renee Young is standing by.



Renee Young: Ladies and gentlemen, my guest at this time, the, “Demi God” AJ Styles.

The fans boo as the camera pans out and AJ enters the shot with The Will to each side of him.

Renee Young: AJ, whether they like you or not, you’re one of the things the world is buzzing about right now along with CM Punk and your upcoming match at Final Battle. So my question is, where’s your head at with all of this?

AJ smirks and shakes his head before answering.

”The Demi God” AJ Styles: Well first and foremost, you can drop the unbiased journalist crap, because that’s exactly what it is. You think I don’t pay attention and therefore don’t know that you’re buddy-buddy with CM Punk and his lackey Samoa Joe? Please. Where’s Scoops or one of the other interview monkeys Ethan’s got in the revolving door he calls a payroll? I’d even take Yikes popping out of another trash can for Rhino here to make goo-goo eyes at over you. What answer are you looking for anyway? Are you wanting me to express surprise? Because when it comes to myself, it’s no surprise that I swept the bracket and made it to the finals. You could’ve put Punk himself on my side of the bracket and I’d still be standing here but things didn’t go down that way. But when it comes to how things did go down, I’m not surprised about that either. I don’t like Punk as far as I can throw him but I’ll give him his due for once, when he puts his mind to something, there’s almost nothing he can’t accomplish. However, things can still be boiled down to what I told him the first time: he can run through everyone else on this roster but every time he gets back to me, he’s going to fail.

You want it to be one way. You want it to be like the good old days where just the name CM Punk sends an, “Oh shit” shockwave up and down the spines of the collective roster, those that have one anyway. You want to be so successful and go on such a tear that no one ever conceivably thinks your opponent is going to beat you regardless of stakes or stipulation. You want it to be Punk’s UWF again, it’s the very reason you came back in the first place but the fact of the matter is, while you want it to be one way, it’s another way entirely and you can thank one man: the, “Demi God” AJ Styles. But you’ve forgotten just how you fare against me, and that’s one reason this upcoming match puts a smile on my face and it’s why I’m talking about it before we’ve even put pen to paper to make it official. Because it’s time to humble you again. That Intercontinental Championship victory you’ve been touting since it happened was a fluke and you know it, you wouldn’t have won the match or the title if it wasn’t for Bray Wyatt sticking his nose in our business. But this is the Renaissance, right? This is the straight-edge retcon of everything past that’s lead to our present. Well you can paint it how you want, and you can put whatever spin you want on it, and you can view it how you choose to: that doesn’t make it the truth.

You call this the, “Summer of Punk”. Pretty sure I’ve heard more than a few guys run with that gimmick but alright, that’s fine, you overblown caricatures of human beings can call the world around you the “Renaissance” or the, “Summer of Punk” or the, “Firefly Fun House” or whatever you want. For you, summer’s cancelled. The lemonade is getting poured out, the food is getting trashed, the grills are getting turned on their sides, the slip-n-slide and inflatables are getting popped, it’s all coming crashing down. Because something else remains a constant, Punk. Not only can you still not get past me on your best day, you still deserve the worst that life can throw at you. And at Final Battle, that’s going to come in the form of another beating.

Renee Young: I’ll be honest, AJ, you might not be surprised but I am. I don’t think I’ve heard you genuinely give anyone their just due since being back.

”The Demi God” AJ Styles: Well if you’re smart, that’s the only thing about this that’s going to surprise you. But you’re not, even the idiots that hate CM Punk’s guts like him more than they like me. And as a result, you’re all hanging your hat on him in hopes that not only will he beat me in the finals, but he’ll go on to beat Bray Wyatt for the UWF Championship. But what’s really going to happen is that underestimation is going to motivate me, like it always does, and I’ll be right in that ring following Final Battle with a smile on my face saying I told you so. But since ol’ AJ did the uncharacteristic thing of giving a compliment to a douchebag he doesn’t agree with and that tickled your fancy til it peed its pants, let’s play fantasy booker. Let’s say that Punk beats me at Final Battle and gets his UWF Championship match. He’s not getting the belt. The only reason I don’t have it is because Bray got desperate and The Fiend got involved. You think he’s not going to try something underhanded against Punk? Not only that, but you think when he does, it’s not going to get Punk’s shoulders pinned to the mat? Punk’s not untouchable and the wrench fiasco proved he can’t fight fire with fire.

That alone deserves mockery, by the way. Not only did you lose to WARHORSE but he made you desperate for an easy way to victory. WARHORSE shouldn’t make anyone desperate or panic or look for the easy way out, especially someone that’s supposedly of your caliber and talent level. For Christ’s sake, you may not be better than me, but I thought for sure you were better than WARHORSE. But you’re grateful to him for taking that title off of you, which means you’re probably grateful in some way to him for kicking your ass because it motivated this whole, “Summer of Punk” campaign. Well I’ve already put him in his place, now all that’s left is to put you in yours.

Renee Young: But what about Samoa Joe?

”The Demi God” AJ Styles: I don’t care if he’s got Samoa Joe or Cotton Eyed Joe with him, Renee. Joe proved during Resistance’s existence that he doesn’t have what it takes anymore when he up and disappeared and by taking a backseat to Punk, he’s accepting that fact and admitting it to the world at the same time. What, you want me to get all giddy because someone else I was in TNA with has made their way back to the UWF? Samoa Joe is less of a concern than Abyss was, and Abyss was no concern. The way I see it, he can stand there looking bloated and stupid as I take away his G1 meal ticket or he can bull up, catch a Phenomenal Forearm for his troubles, and watch the highlights later. Makes no difference to me.

Heath Slater steps forward.

”The One Man Band” Heath Slater: Besides that, he’s got us. So Joe better stay on the sidelines where he belongs.

Rhino steps forward now.

”The War Machine” Rhino: Gore.

AJ leans forward.

”The Demi God” AJ Styles: If we’re done here, it’s off to the ring for us.

AJ and The Will turn and walk offscreen as Renee watches them leave.

[George]

The bewildering sounds of "Raining Blood" blast through the PA, with the wailing distortion echoing through our ears. The spooky sounds continue to flow, until we peak up and then we hit the strong, driving riff coming through the speakers, as the current UWF Intercontinental Champion, Warhorse pumps through the curtain, standing off with menacing head bangs and championship held in hand with a strong grip with microphone in the opposite hand. The Warhorse sympathisers in the crowd bang their heads with ultra enthusiasm through the whole of the first two verses, as well as the MAJORITY Slayer fans, throw 'em up brother.



The Warhorse finishes up headbanging up at the top of the ramp, and then starts walking down the ramp with a bit of a limp. He slides up onto the apron, swinging his championship belt up, holding it in tight and stands, climbing right through the ropes, and standing in the middle of the ring as we hit the chorus:

RAINING BLOOD,
FROM A LACERATED SKY,
BLEEDING IT'S HORROR,
CREATING MY STRUCTURE,
NOW I SHALL REIGN IN BLOOD.

The Warhorse headbangs quite softly but as much as he physically can as we get a bewildering Kerry King guitar solo, a true assault to the senses. As the song finishes the Warhorse stands more on one leg and raises up his microphone to speak some goddamn words on this defense against McIntyre tonight, baby.

WARHORSE: THE G1 HAS PASSED US, IT’S OVER, IT’S DONE. REDUCED TO ATOMS, NOBODY SHOULD EVEN BOTHER PICKING UP THE SCRAPS OF IT BUT THE IMPACT IS SURELY FELT. WE ALL LEARNED FROM THE TOURNAMENT THAT ETHAN CAN’T GET ENOUGH NAMES TO FILL AN A BLOCK, CONWAY’S STREAK WAS A GODDAMN SHAM, THE WARHORSE RULES ASS AND DREW MCINTYRE IS A MASSIVE COWARD THAT NEEDS TO PRY ON INJURING PEOPLE BEFORE THEIR MATCHES TO WIN.

THE MAN PRIDES HIMSELF ON THE PURITY OF THIS SPORT, THE TRUE BOLD FACED MASCULINITY OF IT ALL, YET WHEN IN PRACTISE… YOU SEE I DON’T THINK MCINTYRE ISN’T AS MAN AS THE WARHORSE, ISN’T AS TOUGH, BRAVE OR ANY POSSIBLE ADJECTIVE AS THE WARHORSE. HE’S PROVED HIMSELF TO BE A FIGHTER IN THE PAST BUT THE PRESENT IS FAR FROM IT. AS MANY A MAN HAS PROVED FROM FALLING OFF THE MAP THEN FALLING BACK ON IT, IT CAN OFTEN SHAKE SKILL. SOMEHOW, WITHOUT EVEN GOING AND COMING BACK, DREW MCINTYRE HAS PROVED HE CAN DO THAT MID RUN.

The Warhorse backs up as he feels like he’s being unfair to McIntyre, his ability and what he’s brought to the plate thus far.

MAYBE HE CAN DO BETTER IN THE TELEVISION SCENE, MAYBE TRY AND FINALLY BEAT CONWAY. MAYBE JUST DO THAT IN THE BACKGROUND, BECAUSE GIVEN THE TIME AND THE PLACE, HYPOTHETICALLY, IF HE DOES SOMEHOW TOPPLE THE WARHORSE, HOW LONG DOES THAT GRIP LAST? HOW LONG TIL SOMEONE JUST WALKS ALONG AND BEATS HIM? PRIME TIME MEDAL IN HAND I DON’T KNOW IF THERE’S A LOT MORE TO IT. I KNOW HE’S HELD IT BEFORE, AND HE’S FOLLOWED THROUGH WITH THE SAME HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION BEFORE, SO WHAT? “WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, WARHORSE?” - I HEAR YOU ASK.

IT MEANS THIS BELT GOING INTO HIS HANDS AT THE END OF THE NIGHT WOULD ONLY BE MET WITH BUTTERFINGERS. YET THAT’S ONLY IN THE HYPOTHETICAL SITUATION WHERE HE HAS HIS EYES ON THE BALL FOR ONCE. A LOT MORE OF A MAN WOULD BE CALLED OUT FOR BEING NOTHING, BUT HELL, I’M NOT EXPECTING A MAN TO BE A GOD, A DEMI-GOD OR A GODDAMN GOAT. I JUST WANT YOU HERE AND NOW FOR A FAIR FIGHT.

I FIGHT WITH ALL THE PAIN LASTING. I FIGHT FOR THE DAY, I FIGHT FOR IT’S MY ONLY WAY FORWARD AND I’D DO IT WITH EVERY BONE IN MY BODY SNAPPED.

The Warhorse stands and lowers his microphone awaiting a response from Drew McIntyre.

[Fauche]

THE SUMMER OF PUNK

The titantron flares to life again as those softly strummed chords hum through the PA. Florence's verse kicks in, but even as the spotlight zeroes in on the curtain and all attention is drawn towards the stage, there's nobody there. A cue missed? A no-show? The fans murmur among themselves, wondering...

Until the chorus hits and business picks up! CM Punk bursts through the curtains, arms thrown out at his sides like he's opening up for a big hug. The explosiveness, the smile on his face, and the simple fact that he isn't AJ Styles finds the capacity crowd in better spirits than usual to see the Straight Edge Superstar. A decidedly pro-Punk reaction overtakes the arena, and while many of the fans aren't ready to forgive and forget yet, there's no denying that Brooks is the majority's chosen champion heading into G1 Climax finals.

Punk finds his way to center of the stage, where he takes a knee for the first time in a long time. He checks his watch, nods, and with a mob miming him, he announces loud and proud...

IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME!




On that note, he heads down the ramp, with Samoa Joe coming outta nowhere to follow him. The stoic Submission Machine doesn't exude the visible enthusiasm that his partner does, but the palpable intensity that vibes off him like an unspoken threat is as apparent as ever. Maybe even more so, tonight. These fellas mean business.

Some of the fans reach over the rail for a high-five, or just to get a bit closer to greatness. Except Punk's not here to make friends or kiss babies. His focus is dialed in on in the ring. He's energized in a way he hasn't been in months, or arguably since he's been back. The Second City Saint snags a mic left on the steel stairs before sliding under the ropes. Joe takes the steps up into the squared circle, grabbing a stick of his own. The Samoan scans the arena, making sure there's no blindsides coming before giving his partner the go-ahead nod. Brooks hums along with the chorus-line a little longer, giving the moment some room to breath before finally lifting his mic to speak. When the music fades, the crowd goes silent and he gets started.

Punk: Just when I was starting to think you guys didn't like me any more...

There's a strange cacophony of cheers and jeers. Is the applause in agreement or not? Are the boos from people who just want him to shut up? Is it an ironic hate like the Angle "YOU SUCK" chants? Whatever the opinion of the UWF Universe, it's loud. Punk hears it out before going on.

Punk: I've never had a problem breaking eggs for the sake of the omelet. And I know I can be a little... uh... well... "prickly" sometimes. Fair to say that I don't cultivate a lot of close friendships in the locker room. I've never been the guy that's happy to sign an autograph on my lay-over, or to take a picture while I'm walking down the street with my wife. I've been fired from pretty much every wrestling promotion I've ever worked for, my inbox is constantly full of death threats, and as recently as last month, this ol' mug of mine was slapped all over pay-per-view posters and promotional material because the idea of CM Punk getting beat up in a cage match was considered to be this company's most profitable property.

Sure, I might have some sore feelings about that, and I know you people aren't exactly ready to sign up for my fan club. There's maybe fifteen, twenty guys backstage right now who wouldn't mind stabbing me in the back to take this spot I have right now. So yeah... not exactly "Mr. Popular". But that's nothing new.



Punk: Sometimes I can't help but feel like I bring out the worst in people. The vitriol, the ill will, whatever you wanna call it. We're all here to wrestle, but I think when it comes to me, these guys don't just wanna compete. They wanna hurt me. I get under their skin. And why is that? Am I that much of a prick? Or is it jealousy? I see it... I see it manifest in different ways with different people. Like with WARHORSE, come two months of back and forth and locked up behind those blue bars together, that guy sold out every value he lorded over me just to get his hand raised. He despised me so much that is changed him. With AJ, it's a little bit different...

Joe nods in agreement while Punk carries on.

Punk: They say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. He's up on the big screen stealing my catchphrase, he's got his buddies dressing up like me and Joe, he tries to take credit for being the indy darling who broke through and built up the UWF into a mainstream company but he sure as shit wasn't the guy headlining that first Wrestlemania. So what? Does AJ Styles wish he was CM Punk? Shoot, I dunno. Don't care, either. But his idea of himself can't co-exist with me. It's that "this town ain't big enough for the both of us" kinda deal. His story - the lie he lives and breathes about being a "Demi-God" is a cheap imitation of the success I've found without all that fuss. AJ Styles looks at me... and it must piss him off a lot to know that I can do everything he can and then some.

Like he just said, we're probably the two best guys here. We just had a tournament to prove it. Both of us, undefeated in three against the top talent EC3 had to offer. As far as we are above the rest, though, I'm still one or two rungs higher than him. Now you see him ripping me off again, criticizing everything I've done and said that he wish he'd figured out first, pretending that he's capable of my level. And he just... isn't. That's why he sounds like a fucking maniac - it's driving him craaaaazy. It's been turning his screws since my first night back - when after years on the couch, I pushed him to his breaking point. I outshone him in the Royal Rumble and that insecurity carried on for ages - when I took his Intercontinental title and when he got humiliated at Wrestlemania and the losing streak that spiraled out of that.

The last time we squared off, I rattled this southern-fried dipshit so hard that it took him months to get back on course. That's the effect I have on people. All that hate they've got, crashing against me like the big bad wolf huffin' and puffin' at a brick wall. When their best effort leaves 'em walking off empty handed, they break - because answering the question "How come I wasn't good enough?" is a big ask for egomaniacs.

The crowd's like "OOOOOOH". The Chicagoan just keeps going.

Punk: AJ Styles needs to beat me. AJ Styles needs to win the tournament I've already won and am about to win again. AJ Styles needs to get another crack at that UWF Championship before I do because he knows if I get my hands on Bray first, I'll take it, and that'll be on more punch I beat him to.

What you've got here is a man possessed by and obsessed with a disdain for how god damn good I am. You might think that that would make him more dangerous than ever, and in thinking that, you might be surprised that I don't seem even a tiny bit worried. Cause I'm not. I look at AJ and I see a terrified, insecure, fragile man on the verge of collapse. Proverbially, he's on death's door. All this effort to stay relevant but in the back of his mind, that whisper of retirement sings a song sweeter and sweeter by the day. AJ is ready to let go - ready to be done. That competitor in him won't go down without a fight. Okay. I don't mind that. It might be a knee to the face, or his head in a vise, but at some point, the levee will break, the flood will come and it will all be wiped off the face of the earth. AJ Styles as a viable contender... the notion that he can beat CM Punk... his will to even attempt to keep up... all of it, gone.

He caps off with a cold-blooded emphasis, starting straight into the hard cam with an unwavering gravity. After a few moments, he smirks slyly and turns back towards the entrance ramp.

Punk: Why don't you get your ass on out here and let these people get one last look you, AJ?

Punk and Joe stand back, making room in the ring for AJ and his pals to come out and join them in the squared circle one more time.

[rawisrey]

GReyphics Updated.

[ada2]

That is amazing work right there.
You have gone above and beyond my friend.

[Fauche]

brah that’s the raddest poster

[George]

That shit is fyah

[Dres]

Suddenly the lights go out and the titantron screen begins to play a familiar clip.





After Goku says, “even further beyond, the screen goes black and all is silent for a moment until a familiar voice breaks the silence.

I HAVE ASCENDED!

The crowd boos but they’re drowned out by pyro shooting from the stage. At the end of it, the screen says two words, Demi God, as a new theme begins to play.



The song is, “Element of Surprise” by Lloyd Banks as AJ walks out to the instrumental, his hood covering his head as he’s hunched over. He straightens up quickly, throwing the hood back and his arms out to the side as the vocals begin.



AJ continues down the ramp and enters the ring, motioning for a microphone until he’s granted one. He then raises it to his mouth as his music fades out to silence.



”The Demi God” AJ Styles: This really is an interesting dynamic you’ve got going on here. Not you and Joe, because best I can figure you’re only keeping him around because he’s secretly a genie and rubbing his belly helps you keep your wishful thinking alive because even someone as delusional as you has a finite imagination. Congratulations, by the way, Joe, you’ve gone from drawing a dick on your face to hanging out with one. No the dynamic I’m talking about is how you’ve got all these sheeple comfortable even as you cry wolf. Then again, these people probably wouldn’t know they were in danger if it was staring them in the face, and with that I guess I’ve answered my own question: they’re eating out of the palm of your hand because you all buy into the same fantasies. Well, like I’m taking a saw to a pirate’s wooden limb, it’s time to bring you down a peg again.

If this is anyone’s last look at AJ Styles, it’s because they’re either about to turn away from the product cold turkey or covering their eyes whenever I’m present, because I’m not going anywhere. So send back the retirement cake, sorry Joe, and the balloons and streamers and all that and pump the brakes on celebrating because it’s a lot like I’d say you are when you’re intimate with your wife: premature. But I understand, if I was someone whose stock had gone down faster than Eva Marie on Randy Orton and I didn’t have anything to back up my talent except all the times I talked about how vast and widespread it was, I’d be bitter about someone like me sticking around and constantly showing me up too. You’d love nothing more than for me to call it a career, as would guys like WARHORSE, and for the same reason as you, because then you would never have to step in the ring with the, “Demi God” and try to do anything but get your ass kicked ever again. Hell, WARHORSE would probably be UWF Champion if I retired because he’s already gone through you and has a win over Bray so who’s standing in his way if I’m not here? No one.

But again, don’t get excited over a hypothetical, because that’s all it is. Just like you winning at Final Battle is a hypothetical, because the tools you’re counting on to not only hand me a defeat but retire me? You had them at your disposal the other three times we faced off and how did that play out? Oh right, you lost your return match and the Royal Rumble and the only reason you beat me the third time was because of someone else’s involvement, Bray Wyatt’s, and you didn’t even want that damn Intercontinental Championship in the first place so what do you have to brag about or hang over my head? What do you have on either of your ridiculously tattooed sleeves that’s going to make this encounter go any differently for you? Because Joe was a non-factor before, but now that this is going to be Pure Rules, he’s even more of one. Really throws a wrench into things, doesn’t it?

All your retconning and Renaissancing hasn’t changed a damn thing, Punk, you still don’t write the story and you don’t control destiny, sure as hell not mine and not even yours, I do, and your destiny is losing to me at Final Battle. But let’s get back to what you entertained, me supposedly wanting to let go and hang up the boots and ride off into the proverbial sunset. It’s like I told WARHORSE: if I wanted to retire, I could. In fact, I was, but I came back because I saw something I love, the UWF, in disarray. But you’re not the first to gun for that outcome and make a match my swan song. As early as Lesnar in my first match back and as recently as Oldberg, they all thought they were going to put the nail in my coffin, especially when I was on a losing streak, but they didn’t because they can’t! Don’t you get it yet, you dumb son of a bitch? AJ Styles lives by his own rules which means I stay and go on my own terms, and why the hell would I leave now when my stock has never been higher as far as the hot streak I’m on goes?

I wouldn’t. It’s not happening. But I agree with you on one thing, I’m obsessed with and possessed by something, but it’s not how good you are: it’s vengeance. I’m going to make things right against Bray Wyatt and hold that UWF Championship again, because to hell with him and The Fiend and to hell with you and your Renaissance and Summer of Punk.

AJ lowers his microphone now, opening the floor back up to Punk.

[rawisrey]

The titantron lights up as we enter the Firefly Funhouse which is entirely empty, the camera pans to the old Television Set. Suddenly it buzzes to life, as the image burns onto frame showing the image of Randy Orton in the middle of speaking.

"You know that I have sacrificed everything to do whatever it takes to get to the top."

Before anything else is replayed, the T.V set shuts off. The screen begins to glitch and the feed suddenly cuts to a different place where all is heard is the creaking of wood from a rocking chair as Bray Wyatt begins to speak.



Bray Wyatt: Sacrificed, what do you know...About sacrifice Mr. Orton? Ya wanna talk about flesh and blood, but as obsessed over it as you may be...it's your pretty little blood that runs deep in this business. It's your blood that's afforded you the opportunities you've gotten, and now you face me and say that Randall Keith Orton has sacrificed everything. Nah man, ya don't even know what that word means. Wouldya like to hear a secret though young Randy? I can teach ya tha true meaning of that word, now I know what a pretty boy like you may think. What would someone like you have to learn from a white trash pissant like Bray Wyatt? Nah it's okay man, I get it, people like you always look down on people like me. But People like me man, we're the ones that cause the True change, that open peoples eyes and show them the real world around them. I unravel the riddles that plague the mind of the everyday working man, and while you are far from that brother I can unravel your own twisted world view into the reality that sits in front of your face. You aint better than me man, I ain't no piece of trash I am Better than you all. Because I can outwork you, I can outthink you, and I can out Philosophy you.

Bray Wyatt stands up from his rocking chair and takes his hat off putting it on his chest as he continues speaking right into camera.

So if you truly wanna know what the word Sacrifice means, if you really desire to have the whole wide world believe that you've truly sacrificed it all to get to the tippy top, I will Teach you TRUE Sacrifice. When you've got nothing left inside of ya, but you're still being pulled every which way. When you've ached and hurt and suffered and have nothing but wounds and dirt to show for it. When you've all but given up, and even giving up is too costly to even be a true relief. Then, it will be only the beginning of the Sacrifice of Randy Orton. You've played your games, You've belittled and hyped your name up for the entire world to see. But man, ya went and tried too hard. You pushed too many buttons, and instead of having your moment in the sun you've flown too close...and now the wax begins to melt from your weeks. it is a Long...Loooong Fall from the heights you're used to living in Randy, but when you've landed in the dirt...my domain...You'll find out that your little slice of the world was paradise, and you should have NEVER tried to fly above it. The best thing is, you can squirm...you can rear back...you can slither...but it's far to late for you. You've become just like the snake caught in talons of it's natural predators, unable to do the one thing that would allow every other species to survive....RUN.

The screen glitches and we are returned to the bright lights and colors of the Funhouse as Bray Wyatt smiles widely.



Hiiiii Randall! I'm oh so excited about our Final Battle, because for far far Faaaaar too long you've been getting away with something. You keep on breaking the rules, and that's how you keep hiding. Here's a little lesson for all my Fireflies, Vipers and snakes are actually just scared lil reptiles that are so dangerous because they get spooked so easily they'll bite anything. Just look at Randall, hahaha, he'll be having his wrasslin' bout and be doing a spiffy job. But then he gets mad cause he can't seem to win, the other guy he's facing is actually like...Trying, how dare he right? Don't they know who Randalls father is? why would they be so rude and try against him. So he does what any snake would do, and that's strike and slither away so no one can see how scared he was. But guess what?! I'm totally okay with who you are Randall, you're you and that's Special and I love you just the way you are. SOOOOO what would be the Funnest way to play with Randall, when he loves flipping the board the second he starts losing? Easy, make Flipping the board legal! Hahahaah

Bray starts to double over in laughter as he cackles loudly before he wipes a tear away.

Now if you get scared and want to grab a chair...It'll be perfectly fine, heck between you and me I'd say it's even encouraged. You'll be able to do all the things you've been doing to ruin your matches, and it won't ruin this one. That way there won't be an excuse for what happens, we'll get to see the True Randall Orton once and for all and see what happens when he can't run and hide. This is gonna be Such a fun time, I just can't wait to see what we can do together. Because we've had our little fun, we've played a little tag back and forth. But now you can do whatever you can think of to me to try and prove all those RADICAL things you've been saying for months...and so can I. And believe me Randall...You haven't begun to see the twisted things I can think of...Heh....but there's one way to find out...Let me in Randall.