Post by "The Hottest Shit Going" on Feb 16, 2009 21:23:14 GMT -4
Just outside a local Starbucks, seated at a small circular table the JESUS, and current world champion Michael Lively sits. The man drinking coffee from a small white mug. He sips it slowly trying not to scald his mouth as the brewed fresh drink enters his his body. Across the table sits his mother. The women leaned back in the chair with a magazine in hand. She flips through it very impatiently, and soon gets to the end. As she places the magazine down on the table her eyes turn across to the table at her son.
Now when most mothers look upon their children they have love, compassion, and pride in their eyes. Ms. Lively on the other hand isn't most mothers. Her relationship with her son even if she wanted to simulate that, is never going to be close. They put up with each other, well I'm not sure why they put up with each other. I mean he is a brutal cuss to her, and she's infuriates him with every action, obviously holding things against her from his child hood.
The JESUS looks up and notices his mother gazing toward him.
Lively: WHAT??
Ms. Lively: Nothing, just thinking. I was wondering had I done things different when you were younger, if we would be in a different place.
Lively: Of course we would...I mean had you ripped the wings off the butterfly, I would be a rocket scientist...or turned right instead of left...we could be in California living on a beach with surf boards, and sun tans. What a stupid ass comment....I really wish you would save the bullshit philosophy for one of your many cock hooping sessions with random dudes. I mean a world champion of a prominent wrestling organization can't sit and wonder what if. I mean what if I missed the fucking Prelude, or sneezed during the final pin fall, or slipped of the top rope...would I still have the title...YEAH...cause I'm the fucking man!
Lively then stands as he finishes his cup of coffee. He shakes his head in disgust walking off leaving his mother at the table. He makes his way down the street back toward the arena. Wearing a pair of jeans and a tan t-shirt the JESUS dressed casually for the press conference today. With about five hours to go before the show, the APW sets up a press conference for the local media where they are about to perform in.
As he gets closer toward the arena there are a few hang around APW fans trying to catch a glimpse of their favorite wrestlers. It seems the people recognize the JESUS, and begin moving his way. Seeing this coming the man snaps into full attention.
"Lively---JESUS---Hey Champ...Mike..." The fans scream as they then surround the man moving toward the arena. He pauses for a moment and signs a few autographs.
Fan: Hey Michael...are you pissed that your facing John Green tonight.
Lively: I'm fighting John Green!? Just kidding. Pissed, nah. I was pissed that last week I had to fight Royce. This week the only thing that disturbs me is that it was booked as Rick Stevens one on one against the Heavenly One. I guess thats why it's always stated card subject to change.
Another Fan: What about War Games?
Lively: Well I guess Rick Stevens will get a taste of the JESUS inside that fancy shit called War Games. I suggest you people tune in, I'm going to put on a hell of a show for you people. It's just a shame though that Trevor pulled out. With him officially retired, it seems my job ended way to soon. Leave it to me to be the Career Killer. I mean in my time here in APW I have sent Justin Job, Vin E Lambardo, Jake Ruby, Dita Von Amora, and plenty others packing. I gave Doctor Phate his last loss, and Trevor Blackwell caught the mighty exit pass just like I said I would. War Games would have been a lot more interesting had the Blackwell Bomber not bowed out. I expected more fight from him.
Another Fan: But Streets Wilson and Rick Stevens steeping up has got to have you concerned.
Lively: (With a devilish smirk on his face) Concerned please. A couple of mid card nobodies, trying to make a name for themselves by stepping up. Well, like I said you people tune in to watch the JESUS due what it is that made me so damn successful....piss on their grip on the rungs of success. Drop a load of shit that cause them to loose finally releases that grip and tumble down that ladder.
A female fan: What about Level One.
Silence then drew over the fans surrounding Michael Lively. He pauses for a moment looking at the female. He then points to her, and ushers her toward him with a finger motion. The woman moves toward the champion kind of cautiously.
Lively: No worries...just come up here, so I can answer you question with out all these people in your way. Now what was that you asked?
Female Fan: I asked about Level One.
Lively: What is it that you wish to know.
Female Fan: Well, are you nervous that he is going to take your title. I mean he is undefeated in APW. I mean on the website Level One is ranked higher than you.
Lively: WHAT...he's ranked higher than ME. I'm the fucking world champion...the fucking man. As for him taking my title, NO. I will deal with him when the belt is on the line. I mean, it's already set. Management has things set up for Rasstlemania cause the draw will be huge. As for him being undefeated, and what ever. We wrestled before, and I tested the waters with Level One. I learned quite a bit of things while in the ring with him.The second go around will be much better outcome for the JESUS. I mean the setting will be perfect, the biggest stage of all.
Female fan: Wow, you acting like he's just going to lay down for you, or your going to walk right through him.
The men in the crowd all smile, take a few steps back as Lively's eyebrow raises. He then kicks this female in the mid section, scoops her into a pile driver and drops her head first on the pavement. The woman's body limps out as Lively then stands up.
He looks at the men standing around as they cheer. A chant of Woman Hater then breaks out as the JESUS pulls out his cell phone.
Lively: Yes...we are just south of the main entrance of the arena. The woman was assaulted by a man. I don't know, she's out cold with a huge lump on her skull. Yeah...I saw it happen.
Lively then looks to the right at one of the male fans. As he looks the man up and down, he describes to the 911 operator the mans apparel.
Lively: Yeah, and a red shirt and loose fitting cargo pants. No...he didn't get away, I stopped him.
The other fans know what is about to happen, and they all step back leaving.the man just described to the 911 operator there all alone.
***CRACK***
Lively: No, he might need medical attention too. Yeah well hurry up...theres a mob of angry fans out here ready to kick his ass for whooping up a female.
Lively hangs up the phone as the men surrounding the mayhem Lively just created cheer his departure. The man enters the lobby of the arenas offices. Lively sees the entire set up for the press conference. He stands there for a moment and turns around almost running into another man.
Shane West: Lively sir, sorry about that. I'm Shane West, and interview specialist for APW television and we.....
Lively: WHOA...what happened to Phil?
Shane West: He was promoted to website news.
Lively: Sounds like a demotion. So let me guess, your the guy taking his place.
Shane West: Yep, and I would like to get a few comments about later on tonights match with John Green.
Lively: I bet you would like my thoughts, but maybe I would rather discuss my thoughts with Cindy Shannon...that is unless she was fired or demoted as well.
Shane West: Well I would think maybe you would not like to interview with Cindy Shannon. You would possibly kick her in the mush, then take the mic to do your own segment.
Lively: So your a fan, and know the ways of the JESUS...NICE!
Shane West: It's called doing your homework. Typically a Michael Lively spot involves a a woman kicking kicked, or abused. Possibly some humor, then finishes off with you spitting into the microphone about your over all greatness which by the way totally true. Then you top it all off by getting under your opponents skin with brutal words for them to stew over toward the ring prior to you overwhelm them inside the squared circle.
Lively: Wow...you do partake in getting to know your interview subjects. Tell me more about me-self.
Shane West: Well some think of you as arrogant, rude, vulgar, and obnoxious. I also know that every one of those things are justly earned, and you are proud of them. You work very hard in pissing people off, getting under their skin, and totally mind fucking people before wrecking them in the ring. It all boils down to the fact that you think about every thing you do. It's all in the strategy.
Lively turns his head looking very surprised like his secret has gotten out. Lively then punches the man in the throat. His microphone hits the ground. Lively then pulls the mans tongue out from his mouth lightly, then pounds his fist atop the mans head like a 3 Stooges manor clamping his teeth down on his tongue. Lively then gives the man a double poke to the eyes, and back flips kicking the man under the chin sending him to the ground unconscious.
Lively smirks toward the camera as he tells the man very sternly to make sure that footage was deleted. Lively then head off through the arena possibly heading to his locker room to grab his world title for the press conference.
HOURS LATER
The press conference over, and the show ready to begin. Lively heads to the back walking through the hall. The man opens the door to the exclusive champs room. With the world title tucked in his pants dangling between his legs, he has a seat on the plush overstuffed chair set up against the wall. As he does the title lays perfectly on display between his legs as he makes himself comfortable. Suddenly a lone cameraman enters the champs room accompanied by Ms. Lively.
Lively: CHUBS...good to see you. I didn't think they would let you in here.
Chubs: Apparently since I'm an independent contractor hired by you, all is possible. So you ready to shoot.
Chubs is Lively's personal camera man hired under a strange circumstance that someday we will get into, not all that matters is he is here, ready to shoot a modern day promo for the match scheduled tonight. The man sets the piece of equipment on a tripod so the picture can be steady and crystal clear.
Chubs focuses it, then begins recording motion to the JESUS that he's on.
Lively: APW...once again it's your champion. A Hired Gun that always completes the job. The last one rather easy. Ridding the APW of Trevor Blackwell. If you ask me, it was highway robbery taking Max Carter's money to perform that easy task. So you all are tuned in to another edition of Overdrive. Now, things have changed quite a bit around here. Who knows if there is a Pure Innovation, but four people will be getting there asses whooped in a heavenly manor, thanks to ME. Also, I was supposed to face with Rick Stevens tonight. Apparently he just found out from his doctors that he may have a serious case of the HERPS. Now if this is true then it means Stevens didn't get the memo about Cindy Shannon. None the less, I hope his prescription of Valtrex will calm his sores down in time fro the JESUS to whip that ass at Carnage.
So when one man bows out, another steps up. John Green, what a change usually it's you management is scrambling to replace when you vanish.Anything is possible, and maybe tonight they will still have to do so. I don't give a shit either way. HERPS or no HERPS the JESUS never no shows, backs down, or cause's card to be changed. Just as long as APW dresses some one in some gear, shove them through the curtain, and let me do what I'm here for....make my opponent look like trash.
John Green, with you that task is almost as easy as ridding APW of Trevor Blackwell, or possibly beating Jason Royce for three hundredth time. Green you are sort of a running joke around these parts. You come, you go, then you come, and go again. Now you back...itching and ready to mess with people some more. Some of us take this shit real serious, and make a fucking good living out of it. While others take it like a sixteen year old boy getting some down time from homework, go out back and try to become an on line superstar. Well Green I'd say your about two more disappearances from being the next Youtube hit sensation. You walking into a match with man so much better then you. A man who is more skilled on the mic, and in the ring. Sure your all beefed up, and feeling good about yourself. Well thats just how I like it.
It makes it all the sweeter to piss on you. Bring you down to zero. Theres only room in APW for one man with an intense ego...and I have that filled just fine. Last week you spoke about Fyre Angel and called it an easy win. You counted your eggs before they were hatched. If you two weren't such lower level talent I would have ran to the ring, and cost you the match just to prove to you that your easy to work. I mean please you small cocked prick, you are entering a world that you can't handle. We in the main event operate way above the levels of your skill. It's OK, I'm taking the match, and making the best of it. I'm sure it will bring your name back to the spotlight. People will tune in a say...Damn...John Green returned...not realizing your have been back for about a month. A month of lower level job like competition. Thats what management has to do to keep you around. They make you feel like a real bad ass. Try to push that Retribution Killer you claim to be. If any man needs Retribution it's you. I mean how many times have you crawled back to Jeff's office begging for another chance, another shot. Your jaw must unhinge, allowing Jeff to proverbially stuff your envelope by taking in his balls and package. Why else would he constantly let you return, let you cost him money by building you up only for you to split tail.
Things change, and maybe so do you. Maybe this is the full time John Green that ran the APW in the beginning. The John Green that took charge of a roster full of Jobber level talent, and took the top prize. Well things do indeed change Green, as did the talent level. You can't hack it up here where the big timers dwell. You can come to the ring, flex your muscles...and except the punishment I will be putting you through. The embarrassment you will endure is second to none. I mean this match will be a nice warm up for Carnage. Sadly for you, it will spell a loss for you waltzing into the PPV.
I saw your little fancy ass shoot. If we ant to shoot then we can shoot. Pure Innovation were a bunch of talentless hacks one Trevor Blackwell tried to create into something. He thought he might have it in himself to create another Sabur in the likes of Carl Cage. Shoot style Cage is a pussy ass bitch that doesn't deserve to like my shit up off the floor. Shoot style everyone knows just what Jason Royce is...and had you stuck around long enough for someone to actually commit to you in APW as a roster member there is no doubt in any ones mind it would be You, Royce, And Cage in a three way headlining the mid-card extravaganza. You have enough nerve to not only try and bash me, but insult your self at the same time. While you bring me down you also brought APW with your insults. Doing so makes you look like the fucking half brain dead retard that everyone knows you are, but for political correctness juts wont say to your face. Well Uncle Mikey isn't scarred...Green your three steps away from playing in your own shit. How you make it past the physical is beyond me. None the less you booked, and running your mouth. Lets see ass face, I'm the champ something you wish to be, yet I have accomplished nothing. Wow I must need to go back to school to figure that one out. Listen Green simply put...stop running your mouth. You look stupid with each time it opens, not to mention a pile of shit falls out and you seem to step in it each time you do so.
So in shoot style fashion the world knows you can't be counted on. Tonight what everyone can rely on is the JESUS shoving my foot up your ass. Taking a fat shit on your face, then pissing on your chest all while making you look like the half cocked amatuer that you really are. I'm the fucking man. I'm at the top. You looking up at ME...bitch boy. So when you walk to that ring, lean against those ropes waiting for greatness to arrive....think real hard...do you want to go through with it.
You do...I know it...cause once I enter that ring and stare a hole through you...you and I both know thats as close as GREAT you will ever be...face to face with it. When I fold up that there title that you couldn't hang on to...you and I both know...thats as close as you'll ever be to it again.
You speak of Level One taking my title... what do you know Green you drop every one within two to three weeks after winning them. So you worry about just simply winning a match against a real opponent, let us big timers worry about things like championship gold. So Greeny...I expect to see you out there...and can't wait to make you look like the bitch everyone knows you are. Live on national TV, John Green can eat a dick and die...fuck for all I care he can eat six dicks and die...the point is FUCK JOHN GREEN..before he fucks himself....the human time bomb.
Lively then stands from the chair dragging his thumbs across his throat telling Chubs to shut her down. The feed is then lost.
Now when most mothers look upon their children they have love, compassion, and pride in their eyes. Ms. Lively on the other hand isn't most mothers. Her relationship with her son even if she wanted to simulate that, is never going to be close. They put up with each other, well I'm not sure why they put up with each other. I mean he is a brutal cuss to her, and she's infuriates him with every action, obviously holding things against her from his child hood.
The JESUS looks up and notices his mother gazing toward him.
Lively: WHAT??
Ms. Lively: Nothing, just thinking. I was wondering had I done things different when you were younger, if we would be in a different place.
Lively: Of course we would...I mean had you ripped the wings off the butterfly, I would be a rocket scientist...or turned right instead of left...we could be in California living on a beach with surf boards, and sun tans. What a stupid ass comment....I really wish you would save the bullshit philosophy for one of your many cock hooping sessions with random dudes. I mean a world champion of a prominent wrestling organization can't sit and wonder what if. I mean what if I missed the fucking Prelude, or sneezed during the final pin fall, or slipped of the top rope...would I still have the title...YEAH...cause I'm the fucking man!
Lively then stands as he finishes his cup of coffee. He shakes his head in disgust walking off leaving his mother at the table. He makes his way down the street back toward the arena. Wearing a pair of jeans and a tan t-shirt the JESUS dressed casually for the press conference today. With about five hours to go before the show, the APW sets up a press conference for the local media where they are about to perform in.
As he gets closer toward the arena there are a few hang around APW fans trying to catch a glimpse of their favorite wrestlers. It seems the people recognize the JESUS, and begin moving his way. Seeing this coming the man snaps into full attention.
"Lively---JESUS---Hey Champ...Mike..." The fans scream as they then surround the man moving toward the arena. He pauses for a moment and signs a few autographs.
Fan: Hey Michael...are you pissed that your facing John Green tonight.
Lively: I'm fighting John Green!? Just kidding. Pissed, nah. I was pissed that last week I had to fight Royce. This week the only thing that disturbs me is that it was booked as Rick Stevens one on one against the Heavenly One. I guess thats why it's always stated card subject to change.
Another Fan: What about War Games?
Lively: Well I guess Rick Stevens will get a taste of the JESUS inside that fancy shit called War Games. I suggest you people tune in, I'm going to put on a hell of a show for you people. It's just a shame though that Trevor pulled out. With him officially retired, it seems my job ended way to soon. Leave it to me to be the Career Killer. I mean in my time here in APW I have sent Justin Job, Vin E Lambardo, Jake Ruby, Dita Von Amora, and plenty others packing. I gave Doctor Phate his last loss, and Trevor Blackwell caught the mighty exit pass just like I said I would. War Games would have been a lot more interesting had the Blackwell Bomber not bowed out. I expected more fight from him.
Another Fan: But Streets Wilson and Rick Stevens steeping up has got to have you concerned.
Lively: (With a devilish smirk on his face) Concerned please. A couple of mid card nobodies, trying to make a name for themselves by stepping up. Well, like I said you people tune in to watch the JESUS due what it is that made me so damn successful....piss on their grip on the rungs of success. Drop a load of shit that cause them to loose finally releases that grip and tumble down that ladder.
A female fan: What about Level One.
Silence then drew over the fans surrounding Michael Lively. He pauses for a moment looking at the female. He then points to her, and ushers her toward him with a finger motion. The woman moves toward the champion kind of cautiously.
Lively: No worries...just come up here, so I can answer you question with out all these people in your way. Now what was that you asked?
Female Fan: I asked about Level One.
Lively: What is it that you wish to know.
Female Fan: Well, are you nervous that he is going to take your title. I mean he is undefeated in APW. I mean on the website Level One is ranked higher than you.
Lively: WHAT...he's ranked higher than ME. I'm the fucking world champion...the fucking man. As for him taking my title, NO. I will deal with him when the belt is on the line. I mean, it's already set. Management has things set up for Rasstlemania cause the draw will be huge. As for him being undefeated, and what ever. We wrestled before, and I tested the waters with Level One. I learned quite a bit of things while in the ring with him.The second go around will be much better outcome for the JESUS. I mean the setting will be perfect, the biggest stage of all.
Female fan: Wow, you acting like he's just going to lay down for you, or your going to walk right through him.
The men in the crowd all smile, take a few steps back as Lively's eyebrow raises. He then kicks this female in the mid section, scoops her into a pile driver and drops her head first on the pavement. The woman's body limps out as Lively then stands up.
He looks at the men standing around as they cheer. A chant of Woman Hater then breaks out as the JESUS pulls out his cell phone.
Lively: Yes...we are just south of the main entrance of the arena. The woman was assaulted by a man. I don't know, she's out cold with a huge lump on her skull. Yeah...I saw it happen.
Lively then looks to the right at one of the male fans. As he looks the man up and down, he describes to the 911 operator the mans apparel.
Lively: Yeah, and a red shirt and loose fitting cargo pants. No...he didn't get away, I stopped him.
The other fans know what is about to happen, and they all step back leaving.the man just described to the 911 operator there all alone.
***CRACK***
Lively: No, he might need medical attention too. Yeah well hurry up...theres a mob of angry fans out here ready to kick his ass for whooping up a female.
Lively hangs up the phone as the men surrounding the mayhem Lively just created cheer his departure. The man enters the lobby of the arenas offices. Lively sees the entire set up for the press conference. He stands there for a moment and turns around almost running into another man.
Shane West: Lively sir, sorry about that. I'm Shane West, and interview specialist for APW television and we.....
Lively: WHOA...what happened to Phil?
Shane West: He was promoted to website news.
Lively: Sounds like a demotion. So let me guess, your the guy taking his place.
Shane West: Yep, and I would like to get a few comments about later on tonights match with John Green.
Lively: I bet you would like my thoughts, but maybe I would rather discuss my thoughts with Cindy Shannon...that is unless she was fired or demoted as well.
Shane West: Well I would think maybe you would not like to interview with Cindy Shannon. You would possibly kick her in the mush, then take the mic to do your own segment.
Lively: So your a fan, and know the ways of the JESUS...NICE!
Shane West: It's called doing your homework. Typically a Michael Lively spot involves a a woman kicking kicked, or abused. Possibly some humor, then finishes off with you spitting into the microphone about your over all greatness which by the way totally true. Then you top it all off by getting under your opponents skin with brutal words for them to stew over toward the ring prior to you overwhelm them inside the squared circle.
Lively: Wow...you do partake in getting to know your interview subjects. Tell me more about me-self.
Shane West: Well some think of you as arrogant, rude, vulgar, and obnoxious. I also know that every one of those things are justly earned, and you are proud of them. You work very hard in pissing people off, getting under their skin, and totally mind fucking people before wrecking them in the ring. It all boils down to the fact that you think about every thing you do. It's all in the strategy.
Lively turns his head looking very surprised like his secret has gotten out. Lively then punches the man in the throat. His microphone hits the ground. Lively then pulls the mans tongue out from his mouth lightly, then pounds his fist atop the mans head like a 3 Stooges manor clamping his teeth down on his tongue. Lively then gives the man a double poke to the eyes, and back flips kicking the man under the chin sending him to the ground unconscious.
Lively smirks toward the camera as he tells the man very sternly to make sure that footage was deleted. Lively then head off through the arena possibly heading to his locker room to grab his world title for the press conference.
HOURS LATER
The press conference over, and the show ready to begin. Lively heads to the back walking through the hall. The man opens the door to the exclusive champs room. With the world title tucked in his pants dangling between his legs, he has a seat on the plush overstuffed chair set up against the wall. As he does the title lays perfectly on display between his legs as he makes himself comfortable. Suddenly a lone cameraman enters the champs room accompanied by Ms. Lively.
Lively: CHUBS...good to see you. I didn't think they would let you in here.
Chubs: Apparently since I'm an independent contractor hired by you, all is possible. So you ready to shoot.
Chubs is Lively's personal camera man hired under a strange circumstance that someday we will get into, not all that matters is he is here, ready to shoot a modern day promo for the match scheduled tonight. The man sets the piece of equipment on a tripod so the picture can be steady and crystal clear.
Chubs focuses it, then begins recording motion to the JESUS that he's on.
Lively: APW...once again it's your champion. A Hired Gun that always completes the job. The last one rather easy. Ridding the APW of Trevor Blackwell. If you ask me, it was highway robbery taking Max Carter's money to perform that easy task. So you all are tuned in to another edition of Overdrive. Now, things have changed quite a bit around here. Who knows if there is a Pure Innovation, but four people will be getting there asses whooped in a heavenly manor, thanks to ME. Also, I was supposed to face with Rick Stevens tonight. Apparently he just found out from his doctors that he may have a serious case of the HERPS. Now if this is true then it means Stevens didn't get the memo about Cindy Shannon. None the less, I hope his prescription of Valtrex will calm his sores down in time fro the JESUS to whip that ass at Carnage.
So when one man bows out, another steps up. John Green, what a change usually it's you management is scrambling to replace when you vanish.Anything is possible, and maybe tonight they will still have to do so. I don't give a shit either way. HERPS or no HERPS the JESUS never no shows, backs down, or cause's card to be changed. Just as long as APW dresses some one in some gear, shove them through the curtain, and let me do what I'm here for....make my opponent look like trash.
John Green, with you that task is almost as easy as ridding APW of Trevor Blackwell, or possibly beating Jason Royce for three hundredth time. Green you are sort of a running joke around these parts. You come, you go, then you come, and go again. Now you back...itching and ready to mess with people some more. Some of us take this shit real serious, and make a fucking good living out of it. While others take it like a sixteen year old boy getting some down time from homework, go out back and try to become an on line superstar. Well Green I'd say your about two more disappearances from being the next Youtube hit sensation. You walking into a match with man so much better then you. A man who is more skilled on the mic, and in the ring. Sure your all beefed up, and feeling good about yourself. Well thats just how I like it.
It makes it all the sweeter to piss on you. Bring you down to zero. Theres only room in APW for one man with an intense ego...and I have that filled just fine. Last week you spoke about Fyre Angel and called it an easy win. You counted your eggs before they were hatched. If you two weren't such lower level talent I would have ran to the ring, and cost you the match just to prove to you that your easy to work. I mean please you small cocked prick, you are entering a world that you can't handle. We in the main event operate way above the levels of your skill. It's OK, I'm taking the match, and making the best of it. I'm sure it will bring your name back to the spotlight. People will tune in a say...Damn...John Green returned...not realizing your have been back for about a month. A month of lower level job like competition. Thats what management has to do to keep you around. They make you feel like a real bad ass. Try to push that Retribution Killer you claim to be. If any man needs Retribution it's you. I mean how many times have you crawled back to Jeff's office begging for another chance, another shot. Your jaw must unhinge, allowing Jeff to proverbially stuff your envelope by taking in his balls and package. Why else would he constantly let you return, let you cost him money by building you up only for you to split tail.
Things change, and maybe so do you. Maybe this is the full time John Green that ran the APW in the beginning. The John Green that took charge of a roster full of Jobber level talent, and took the top prize. Well things do indeed change Green, as did the talent level. You can't hack it up here where the big timers dwell. You can come to the ring, flex your muscles...and except the punishment I will be putting you through. The embarrassment you will endure is second to none. I mean this match will be a nice warm up for Carnage. Sadly for you, it will spell a loss for you waltzing into the PPV.
I saw your little fancy ass shoot. If we ant to shoot then we can shoot. Pure Innovation were a bunch of talentless hacks one Trevor Blackwell tried to create into something. He thought he might have it in himself to create another Sabur in the likes of Carl Cage. Shoot style Cage is a pussy ass bitch that doesn't deserve to like my shit up off the floor. Shoot style everyone knows just what Jason Royce is...and had you stuck around long enough for someone to actually commit to you in APW as a roster member there is no doubt in any ones mind it would be You, Royce, And Cage in a three way headlining the mid-card extravaganza. You have enough nerve to not only try and bash me, but insult your self at the same time. While you bring me down you also brought APW with your insults. Doing so makes you look like the fucking half brain dead retard that everyone knows you are, but for political correctness juts wont say to your face. Well Uncle Mikey isn't scarred...Green your three steps away from playing in your own shit. How you make it past the physical is beyond me. None the less you booked, and running your mouth. Lets see ass face, I'm the champ something you wish to be, yet I have accomplished nothing. Wow I must need to go back to school to figure that one out. Listen Green simply put...stop running your mouth. You look stupid with each time it opens, not to mention a pile of shit falls out and you seem to step in it each time you do so.
So in shoot style fashion the world knows you can't be counted on. Tonight what everyone can rely on is the JESUS shoving my foot up your ass. Taking a fat shit on your face, then pissing on your chest all while making you look like the half cocked amatuer that you really are. I'm the fucking man. I'm at the top. You looking up at ME...bitch boy. So when you walk to that ring, lean against those ropes waiting for greatness to arrive....think real hard...do you want to go through with it.
You do...I know it...cause once I enter that ring and stare a hole through you...you and I both know thats as close as GREAT you will ever be...face to face with it. When I fold up that there title that you couldn't hang on to...you and I both know...thats as close as you'll ever be to it again.
You speak of Level One taking my title... what do you know Green you drop every one within two to three weeks after winning them. So you worry about just simply winning a match against a real opponent, let us big timers worry about things like championship gold. So Greeny...I expect to see you out there...and can't wait to make you look like the bitch everyone knows you are. Live on national TV, John Green can eat a dick and die...fuck for all I care he can eat six dicks and die...the point is FUCK JOHN GREEN..before he fucks himself....the human time bomb.
Lively then stands from the chair dragging his thumbs across his throat telling Chubs to shut her down. The feed is then lost.
