November: Alright I'll make this easy for you then Twenty-One. You name a date and I'll make sure I'm there to smear your face across the canvas. 

((The bitterness spills forth from his lips as his arms push his chest away from the sweat stained concrete. The camera stays locked in position so with each push up he dips below our view. His back remains straight and every time he pushes up his blue eyes focus on the lens...))

November: Suddenly you have a back bone...suddenly you're trying to be someone,...

((He drops out of view and his voice grows fainter...))

...and have finally dropped that "nice guy" mask you've been... 

((He starts to push back up, and his voice grows louder as he comes back into view.))

...throwing up in my direction ever since I stepped into the JWA.

((Thunder rattles outside as he remains fixed in the up position. Letting the silence spill across the airwaves for a moment, and then finally he pushes up to his feet, and the camera pans back and up...))

((We look at him now from a worms eye view...him looking down at us. It's metaphorical for the way he wants the world to be. Unfortunately there are birds overhead... ))

Or maybe you're just jealous...jealous that I finally made my decision to go with Mirage and Chronos instead of listening to you tell the world how confused and misguided I am? Jealous that I didn't step back in line behind you so that YOU could "help" lead me down the right path? Jealous that while you've aligned yourself with just another clone I was making the real thing look like a first-year rookie straight out of the indy feds? Yeah that might have something to do with it...

Regardless...I like the hate I'm hearing in your voice...feed me some more.

((The camera pulls back even further, but he doesn't move an inch. Another metaphor for what he thinks about his opponent for this week.))

((Once upon a time he would have thrown out words of respect, but he's done with that now.))

I've got an idea Jackson Santee...why don't you stop pretending like you mean anything to this sport or this community and just fade away again. You've never been anything but third-rate. You're the generic brand of the generic brand. Your stitching is always coming undone, and you're always falling a part. Your claim to fame is that you were William Collins' last student, but I can guarantee Collins hasn't thought of you in over two-years. You've always just been that annoying guy in the corner begging for attention...trying to find some way to break into the spotlight.

But with that butter knife wit of yours you'll be lucky to break into my shadow. Turn that over in your mind a few times, and just maybe you might see where I'm coming from. I doubt it though because your ring name is Extreme Warrior...which would make sense if you were someone who enjoyed "extreme" and or "hardcore" matches, but you were always that guy who was constantly reminding us that you were not an "extreme" or "hardcore" wrestler.

And that's why you changed your name...so that you could get a fresh start ont he community.

((He shakes his head, but there's no joy on his face. He'd rather not be doing this right now. In fact he'd rather be seeing her right now, and that was wrong he knew, but he needed to right now...))

And you know the only problem with that line of thought, Jackson? Yeah, despite the name change it was still you, and your poor grammar, spewing out the same asinine rhetoric. And for that reason I pity you Jackson...because you're absolutely clueless when it comes to the world around you.

So now you'll try to exchange words with me, and with each syllable you'll reveal to the rest of the community why you really don't belong in front of a camera...and you'd think it'd all stop there, and embarrassment would end, but then in a cruel, cruel, joke worthy of Satan himself I get to dismantle you in the ring. 

((That's what this is all about in the end right? It's all about wrestling. About being the best. About out shinning everyone. He's sure that's what it's  all about, but then he still can't stop thinking about her. And he hates himself for that because now she's become a distraction...))

And you'll be amazed with just how quickly I drop you to the canvas, and with simple moves at that. An armbar here...a Russian leg sweep there...a precision elbow...a butterfly press...because in the end it's all about the basics. It's about the ring, and the hours of training you force yourself to hammer out. And if you really were trained by Collins then you'd be in a gym right now bleeding a sweating for this sport.

But instead you're in a park looking at little kids...

Pedophile.

((black...))