Post by Your JESUS on Jan 27, 2010 1:01:15 GMT -4
We catch up with the Irish Hammer as he sits on a plush chair in the a remote studio the APW has set up in Las Vegas. The man seems to be involved in a video shoot that the production team will use to promote the match between himself and Michael Lively.
Sabur: As you arrive home from a great evening out, your sense are peaked from the enjoyment that you have just under gone. Your emotions on high from a movie or taste buds satisfied from a gut stuffing meal. You pull into the driveway and walk toward your front door. Suddenly your high of thrill and happiness quickly swings into another direction. You see what seems to be the door to your home kicked in and your gut begins to tie into knots as you get closer.
Carefully you push the door fully open not sure if the intruder is still inside. As you get past the fear of confrontation you must swallow the lump in your throat as you realize you have been taken. The place looks trashed, furniture flipped, glass picture frames smashed to bits. Memories all destroyed for what, then your mind begins taking an inventory. You realize that valuable possessions where inside the house, priceless family heirlooms and such might have been the focus of the break in. Suddenly like a ton of bricks dropping on your head your realize anything of any value has been stripped from you. You are faced with the agonizing realization that all you cherish and love has been ripped from you. There isn't a thing you can do, not cure to problem. You begin to feel the sorrow of helplessness as the reality of your situation sinks in deeper like a choke constricting your lungs.
I know these feelings all too well. I cherished the APW world title. I was proud of my accomplishment, yet there was another thing I took far more pride in then leather and gold, my career. You see I was a spoiled kid fresh from high school about two years ago. I had a privileged life, went to the best schools, and had the best trainers to turn me into a genetic powerhouse on the mat. I dominated Junior high and High School wrestling turning out to be one of the nations top prospects for Amateur wrestling. The world was mine for the taking, the only thing I needed to do was decide which direction I began my takeover. Many people showed up offering many different things. College's wanted me to bring them glory while promising the sun, moon, and stars in return.
These things sounded good at first, but I was warned that I should be careful. You see having the best growing up also meant that prior to becoming a man my parents decided that I must also have the best advice with my future. I took the things this guy said with a grain of salt. I knew what I wanted hadn't landed on my lap just yet. Then came the day Professional wrestling as an option came strolling into my life. We got calls from a couple of organizations but one stuck out. This one stuck out because of it's owner/President. Other companies sent business men to discuss my finical future, the talked of many things all of which seemed like their best interests where all the real concern. President Jeff strolled to my house in Las Vegas and sat down in my families livings room. He made no promises, he never spoke of money. The only words that left his mouth were opportunity, and a challenge. He knew he was talking to an athlete with a highly level of competitive nature. This man simply talked about the challenge of professional wrestling, and what a rush he had spending his career inside a squared circle.
This stuck out to me, and well helped make my decision. Against what my parents thought was their better judgment I decided to fly to APW headquarters and talk over the deal offered to me. Little did I know what would come from this. Shortly there after I was put into a developmental fed in Las Vegas. Thats right the home town boy returns to start the journey. I was taught the In's and outs of the business so I thought. I mean the in ring stuff came fairly easy, but cutting a promo, working the crowd, and dealing with political bullshit was a world I had yet to venture into. I excelled in Las Vegas and was soon called up to the big time. I felt I would run through the people in APW like butter knife scooping up cream cheese. I honestly thought with in two months I would be at the top of the mountain holding the APW's finest prize.
I found out the hard way that I was just wet behind the ears. I was showed the ropes by a few people, and learned another lesson on jealousy which no one can prepare you for. That jealousy I thought stemmed just from Trevor Blackwell. After Christmas Chaos I was robbed. My valuables where taken from me. I'm not talking about the world title, simply referring to my career. I had grown to love every second of this business. You know how many people struggle through life spending their days doing things they can't stand. I was a fortunate one, I was a man that had found his niche, and wanted nothing more then to ride it out as long as possible.
The lesson of jealousy slapped me in the face. I was blinded by the man who had carried out the act, and the relationship I thought we previously had. Little did I know how deep the roots of jealousy really dug in. In Las Vegas I was trained at the NWC. While there I ran across this young guy about my age. He was high flyer, the student of none other then Sabu. The biggest name in Las Vegas's NWC was Sabu, hell in Indy wrestling for that matter. The higher ups of the fed loved Sabu and everyone in the place thought his protege would be the next big thing to to sprout from the training grounds. He was lighting fast, had charisma, and skill. He wasn't afraid to preform the high flying, death defying moves that Sabu loved to attempt. Thats right the talk of the underground was how this kid who was groomed since the age sixteen was going to explode onto the scene. "The White Lion" Michael Lively was wrestlings next big thing.
Along came this powerhouse of a kid with skills that could have made him an Olympian, and the strength and natural athleticism that would project him anywhere he wanted to go in professional sports. I'm sure people weren't expecting me to make the decision I made. Hell the Review Journal a Las Vegas publications was almost solely convinced that I was going to the UFC and run the MMA circuit.
So with the back story spoken now, you people can only imagine the rest right. Well Michael Lively and myself sparked up a decent friendship. One thing Sabu told us is that true friends are hard to find in the wrestling business. This business has it's way of staying in between everything. Little did I know how much truth that man spoke. We both respected Sabu. Hell I even changed the spelling of Saber to Sabur as a tribute to the man when I moved up to the big leagues. Everyone knew that Lively was his boy, everyone thought that when they called Sabu would be announcing his protege was the one moving up to the main roster.
Shocked was everyone in the gym that day except me. Calling confidence, arrogance, or whatever you wish to say it was but I knew that the APW wanted me. That moment is when I think the whole story started to unfold. Not long after I got here I realized that what I thought was going to happen was surely far from the truth. There was a pecking order for new guys and world title matches weren't just handed out to people just because they were the man in a small Indy fed in Las Vegas. APW saw something in me, and offered me a shot at the Overdrive title. The level of talent here was far beyond insane and it took some adjusting before I realized how to operate. The mind games were insane people threw me off my game almost at every turn.
Quickly good news came that Michael Lively had been called up to APW as well. I was thrilled that not only did he get what he had been working for, but the fact that I might have a friend to roll with in this difficult adjustment was a bit comforting. It's was natural for the production team to pair myself and Lively up on camera. We worked well together, and Lively dazzled the shit out of people when he arrived. The man mad one hell of an impact when he was booked to take on Kenny Lambardo.
It's funny, because Lively and I watched Kenny Lambardo wrestle in another big time fed aligning with Hurricane Jeff who had opened APW. I remember when the match was booked, I was little nervous for Lively. This son of a bitch had a sadistic grin on his face as if someone had just unlocked a door for him. The kid took the ball and ran with it. You talk about bringing the heat, Lively did just that. I remember the backstage drama when Michael burned Kenny's Sons of Carthage leather jacket in the ring. Lively mocked his entrance, mocked the Ego, hell Lively almost turned into Kenny Lambardo for a moment while cutting that promo. Inside the ring when the two faced off Lively snagged the victory, and people weren't only shocked but amazed.
Here was a man that was sure to become the face of the company and some new punk from the developmental fed just got the best of him not only in the ring, but outside of it prior to the match. Psychology, that was what I lacked and took some time to develop. When I did there seemed to be no stopping me. My friendship with Michael Lively turned sour as he felt that Kenny Lambardo was his key. I know thats what Lively thought, and that is what he displayed in his every action. I on the other hand found friendship in Trevor Blackwell. He helped me sort things out, and get my mind right for this sport. Once that happened I excelled. While I stumbled Lively advanced, and it seemed he loved it. I mean to be groomed for the sport like he was, and to get passed by like he was when I got called up before he did must have stung.
The man quickly took advantage of his success as he brought down the Overdrive title under one hell of a reign. The man then won the tag titles while I yet was able to capture any slice of gold. It came and came big. Much to the dismay of Lively he was none to pleased that I won the world title. During our on screen and backstage run-ins we both bickered. I knew that me winning the title chapped his ass. I knew every accomplishment I was to make would be like a knife twisting in Michael Lively's side. What I didn't realize that he was a rotten thief in the shadows. This son of a bitch stole from me everything that had become important in my life. The roar of the crowd as I entered the arena, the thrill of competition, and the overwhelming surge of excitement that happens when you control the crowd by simple words on the microphone.
That filthy bastard snuck in my house and stole what meant the most to me. That son of a bitch has been jealous ever since we met. I didn't realize at the time, but it's is crystal fucking clear as I sit here speaking with you. That arrogant bastard had an agenda and played his cards perfectly. What happened shortly after was something I think he didn't expect to happen. Lively became the victim of his own doing and watched his world unravel. I'm sure he didn't realize that his dirty little secret would come out.
His jealousy cost me a year of my life. It kept me from the sport I love, the fans I adore, and the chance I competing inside the APW. Lively stole a piece of my life, and there is not getting it back. His jealousy exploited the mind of Trevor Blackwell. His actions will not go unpunished, you can mark my damn words. I made Trevor Blackwell pay for his sins, and now the JESUS will be forced to do the same. This arrogant self absorbed son of a bitch will be faced with a monster in likes he has never faced before. I will not rest until I have ripped the spine from Michael Lively's back. I will not be satisfied until he suffers the agonizing pain that stifles his voice so he can no longer scream out in misery. The poor bastard will only be able to shed tears, shiver in mind numbing pain. They say I can't get the time back, but I can start from here. During that match, at that moment I will surely try to recover what was ripped from me by taken the very same from Michael Lively.
I really don't care about this title he carries. The only thing on my mind is driving his skull into bits as I extract the mush inside that he calls brains. I will squeeze the juice from that pile of Grey matter so that never again will we have to be subjected to the plots and schemes of Michael Lively. I plan on crushing this mans spirit, while exposing his ever present weakness...that sensitive ego. Level One seems to be one of the few people that know how Lively operates, and gets in his head like shrink would a patient on a couch.
With a tilt of the big mans head he seems to change gears with his expression. It's almost as if he has begun shooting straight toward Lively
Sabur: Well Lively, I know you just the same, if not better. I plan on inflicting serious damage on your body. I will break your will, and crush every ounce of that so called fighting spirit you have inside of you.
You used to be a hell of a talent, but have become more of waste as time ticks on. You have found ways to manipulate situations to your advantage and constantly walk out with damn near everything you want. Well the free ride stops at New Years Retribution Lively. I will bring about your suffering, and make sure that if you ever wish to step back in the ring you will have to fight with every fiber of your existence like I had to. You will be tested like your never have been before. The world will find out if Michael Lively is all talk, they will find out if your are just the opportunist that people claim you are. We will find out if you are a wrestler, a warrior. We will know once the dust settle over the next few months to come if you in deed have the fight inside of you.
I know I do. When faced with the dilemma that I may never wrestle again I chose to fight. I clawed my way back to better then I was prior to the thieving injury I suffered thanks to your snake in the grass, flimsy ass. The way I see it Lively the world is a giant circle, and it seems we have come back around haven't we. This time it's your turn to be tested, it's your will to continue on that will be put on the line. Can you face demise and still make the comeback. Lively I promise that you will fall to my hands. I will be the man who slams the fucking door shut on your career. Living in Vegas I know odds, and I'm willing to bet the house that your heart is weak. You don't have the stomach for what I'm going to do to you let alone the will to make it back. It's on Lively, it has been for a long time you just didn't realize that I was lurking in the shadows. I have watching your every move waiting, and plotting the end of you my friend. We have our history, but who knew it was so deep huh. It's about to get a little deeper you asshole. I will be the bane of your existence, and be the reaper of your grim future. Michael Lively you know my name, you know me very well, but things between us this time will be far more different then ever before.
You are the one with the back against the wall. You are the one with everything to loose Lively. Your new title is up for grabs and I know how desperately you wish to have that leather and gold. I know because I used to thrive for the very same thing. The thing is Lively, Sabur told us not to get caught up in the pursuit of titles. He told us the damage that comes with the gold. He explained to us that if it comes then so be it. Neither one of us listened, and unlike you it finally makes sense to me. Michael, listen close because I haven't a thing on the line. The way I see it is that I'm a dead man walking. I shouldn't be here, and every second that I get is just a bonus if you will. What happened to me should have put me down for good, and thats what you were hoping for. Uh-Eh, not his big bastard, no sir. Lively you are fighting a man that wished for nothing more then your demise. You will be fighting for the sake of your title, the sake of your reputation, and most importantly to survive.
This will be a serious bout of intensity, and a match up people will tune in to watch. Not because we are two of the very best this sport has to offer. Not because of this seedy history between us. They will tune in because they will know just as I predict, it will be nothing short of a car wreck live on PPV. People will stare on in wonder and amazement hoping to catch a glimpse of the gruesome spectacle I plan on presenting. Lively that time has come, the bank is here to cash in on the loan you took out. Times up, no more people to borrow from, no where to turn. Just stand up like a man and deal with your debts. You owe me one year, and with interest I'm thinking your career should just about pay off the deficit. It's the House of Pain Michael, no escaping, no where to run, just a boat load of misery to endure to the bitter sweet end. Trust me when I say it will be bitter sweet Lively, I wish for nothing more then your blood spilled on the cold concrete floor and your lifeless carcass to be carried out from the warehouse after I'm through. It's new year, and time to pay up bitch.
Sabur then stands from the chair, ripping the lapel mic clipped to his t-shirt Obviously irritated by the thought of Lively Sabur storms off.
Sabur: As you arrive home from a great evening out, your sense are peaked from the enjoyment that you have just under gone. Your emotions on high from a movie or taste buds satisfied from a gut stuffing meal. You pull into the driveway and walk toward your front door. Suddenly your high of thrill and happiness quickly swings into another direction. You see what seems to be the door to your home kicked in and your gut begins to tie into knots as you get closer.
Carefully you push the door fully open not sure if the intruder is still inside. As you get past the fear of confrontation you must swallow the lump in your throat as you realize you have been taken. The place looks trashed, furniture flipped, glass picture frames smashed to bits. Memories all destroyed for what, then your mind begins taking an inventory. You realize that valuable possessions where inside the house, priceless family heirlooms and such might have been the focus of the break in. Suddenly like a ton of bricks dropping on your head your realize anything of any value has been stripped from you. You are faced with the agonizing realization that all you cherish and love has been ripped from you. There isn't a thing you can do, not cure to problem. You begin to feel the sorrow of helplessness as the reality of your situation sinks in deeper like a choke constricting your lungs.
I know these feelings all too well. I cherished the APW world title. I was proud of my accomplishment, yet there was another thing I took far more pride in then leather and gold, my career. You see I was a spoiled kid fresh from high school about two years ago. I had a privileged life, went to the best schools, and had the best trainers to turn me into a genetic powerhouse on the mat. I dominated Junior high and High School wrestling turning out to be one of the nations top prospects for Amateur wrestling. The world was mine for the taking, the only thing I needed to do was decide which direction I began my takeover. Many people showed up offering many different things. College's wanted me to bring them glory while promising the sun, moon, and stars in return.
These things sounded good at first, but I was warned that I should be careful. You see having the best growing up also meant that prior to becoming a man my parents decided that I must also have the best advice with my future. I took the things this guy said with a grain of salt. I knew what I wanted hadn't landed on my lap just yet. Then came the day Professional wrestling as an option came strolling into my life. We got calls from a couple of organizations but one stuck out. This one stuck out because of it's owner/President. Other companies sent business men to discuss my finical future, the talked of many things all of which seemed like their best interests where all the real concern. President Jeff strolled to my house in Las Vegas and sat down in my families livings room. He made no promises, he never spoke of money. The only words that left his mouth were opportunity, and a challenge. He knew he was talking to an athlete with a highly level of competitive nature. This man simply talked about the challenge of professional wrestling, and what a rush he had spending his career inside a squared circle.
This stuck out to me, and well helped make my decision. Against what my parents thought was their better judgment I decided to fly to APW headquarters and talk over the deal offered to me. Little did I know what would come from this. Shortly there after I was put into a developmental fed in Las Vegas. Thats right the home town boy returns to start the journey. I was taught the In's and outs of the business so I thought. I mean the in ring stuff came fairly easy, but cutting a promo, working the crowd, and dealing with political bullshit was a world I had yet to venture into. I excelled in Las Vegas and was soon called up to the big time. I felt I would run through the people in APW like butter knife scooping up cream cheese. I honestly thought with in two months I would be at the top of the mountain holding the APW's finest prize.
I found out the hard way that I was just wet behind the ears. I was showed the ropes by a few people, and learned another lesson on jealousy which no one can prepare you for. That jealousy I thought stemmed just from Trevor Blackwell. After Christmas Chaos I was robbed. My valuables where taken from me. I'm not talking about the world title, simply referring to my career. I had grown to love every second of this business. You know how many people struggle through life spending their days doing things they can't stand. I was a fortunate one, I was a man that had found his niche, and wanted nothing more then to ride it out as long as possible.
The lesson of jealousy slapped me in the face. I was blinded by the man who had carried out the act, and the relationship I thought we previously had. Little did I know how deep the roots of jealousy really dug in. In Las Vegas I was trained at the NWC. While there I ran across this young guy about my age. He was high flyer, the student of none other then Sabu. The biggest name in Las Vegas's NWC was Sabu, hell in Indy wrestling for that matter. The higher ups of the fed loved Sabu and everyone in the place thought his protege would be the next big thing to to sprout from the training grounds. He was lighting fast, had charisma, and skill. He wasn't afraid to preform the high flying, death defying moves that Sabu loved to attempt. Thats right the talk of the underground was how this kid who was groomed since the age sixteen was going to explode onto the scene. "The White Lion" Michael Lively was wrestlings next big thing.
Along came this powerhouse of a kid with skills that could have made him an Olympian, and the strength and natural athleticism that would project him anywhere he wanted to go in professional sports. I'm sure people weren't expecting me to make the decision I made. Hell the Review Journal a Las Vegas publications was almost solely convinced that I was going to the UFC and run the MMA circuit.
So with the back story spoken now, you people can only imagine the rest right. Well Michael Lively and myself sparked up a decent friendship. One thing Sabu told us is that true friends are hard to find in the wrestling business. This business has it's way of staying in between everything. Little did I know how much truth that man spoke. We both respected Sabu. Hell I even changed the spelling of Saber to Sabur as a tribute to the man when I moved up to the big leagues. Everyone knew that Lively was his boy, everyone thought that when they called Sabu would be announcing his protege was the one moving up to the main roster.
Shocked was everyone in the gym that day except me. Calling confidence, arrogance, or whatever you wish to say it was but I knew that the APW wanted me. That moment is when I think the whole story started to unfold. Not long after I got here I realized that what I thought was going to happen was surely far from the truth. There was a pecking order for new guys and world title matches weren't just handed out to people just because they were the man in a small Indy fed in Las Vegas. APW saw something in me, and offered me a shot at the Overdrive title. The level of talent here was far beyond insane and it took some adjusting before I realized how to operate. The mind games were insane people threw me off my game almost at every turn.
Quickly good news came that Michael Lively had been called up to APW as well. I was thrilled that not only did he get what he had been working for, but the fact that I might have a friend to roll with in this difficult adjustment was a bit comforting. It's was natural for the production team to pair myself and Lively up on camera. We worked well together, and Lively dazzled the shit out of people when he arrived. The man mad one hell of an impact when he was booked to take on Kenny Lambardo.
It's funny, because Lively and I watched Kenny Lambardo wrestle in another big time fed aligning with Hurricane Jeff who had opened APW. I remember when the match was booked, I was little nervous for Lively. This son of a bitch had a sadistic grin on his face as if someone had just unlocked a door for him. The kid took the ball and ran with it. You talk about bringing the heat, Lively did just that. I remember the backstage drama when Michael burned Kenny's Sons of Carthage leather jacket in the ring. Lively mocked his entrance, mocked the Ego, hell Lively almost turned into Kenny Lambardo for a moment while cutting that promo. Inside the ring when the two faced off Lively snagged the victory, and people weren't only shocked but amazed.
Here was a man that was sure to become the face of the company and some new punk from the developmental fed just got the best of him not only in the ring, but outside of it prior to the match. Psychology, that was what I lacked and took some time to develop. When I did there seemed to be no stopping me. My friendship with Michael Lively turned sour as he felt that Kenny Lambardo was his key. I know thats what Lively thought, and that is what he displayed in his every action. I on the other hand found friendship in Trevor Blackwell. He helped me sort things out, and get my mind right for this sport. Once that happened I excelled. While I stumbled Lively advanced, and it seemed he loved it. I mean to be groomed for the sport like he was, and to get passed by like he was when I got called up before he did must have stung.
The man quickly took advantage of his success as he brought down the Overdrive title under one hell of a reign. The man then won the tag titles while I yet was able to capture any slice of gold. It came and came big. Much to the dismay of Lively he was none to pleased that I won the world title. During our on screen and backstage run-ins we both bickered. I knew that me winning the title chapped his ass. I knew every accomplishment I was to make would be like a knife twisting in Michael Lively's side. What I didn't realize that he was a rotten thief in the shadows. This son of a bitch stole from me everything that had become important in my life. The roar of the crowd as I entered the arena, the thrill of competition, and the overwhelming surge of excitement that happens when you control the crowd by simple words on the microphone.
That filthy bastard snuck in my house and stole what meant the most to me. That son of a bitch has been jealous ever since we met. I didn't realize at the time, but it's is crystal fucking clear as I sit here speaking with you. That arrogant bastard had an agenda and played his cards perfectly. What happened shortly after was something I think he didn't expect to happen. Lively became the victim of his own doing and watched his world unravel. I'm sure he didn't realize that his dirty little secret would come out.
His jealousy cost me a year of my life. It kept me from the sport I love, the fans I adore, and the chance I competing inside the APW. Lively stole a piece of my life, and there is not getting it back. His jealousy exploited the mind of Trevor Blackwell. His actions will not go unpunished, you can mark my damn words. I made Trevor Blackwell pay for his sins, and now the JESUS will be forced to do the same. This arrogant self absorbed son of a bitch will be faced with a monster in likes he has never faced before. I will not rest until I have ripped the spine from Michael Lively's back. I will not be satisfied until he suffers the agonizing pain that stifles his voice so he can no longer scream out in misery. The poor bastard will only be able to shed tears, shiver in mind numbing pain. They say I can't get the time back, but I can start from here. During that match, at that moment I will surely try to recover what was ripped from me by taken the very same from Michael Lively.
I really don't care about this title he carries. The only thing on my mind is driving his skull into bits as I extract the mush inside that he calls brains. I will squeeze the juice from that pile of Grey matter so that never again will we have to be subjected to the plots and schemes of Michael Lively. I plan on crushing this mans spirit, while exposing his ever present weakness...that sensitive ego. Level One seems to be one of the few people that know how Lively operates, and gets in his head like shrink would a patient on a couch.
With a tilt of the big mans head he seems to change gears with his expression. It's almost as if he has begun shooting straight toward Lively
Sabur: Well Lively, I know you just the same, if not better. I plan on inflicting serious damage on your body. I will break your will, and crush every ounce of that so called fighting spirit you have inside of you.
You used to be a hell of a talent, but have become more of waste as time ticks on. You have found ways to manipulate situations to your advantage and constantly walk out with damn near everything you want. Well the free ride stops at New Years Retribution Lively. I will bring about your suffering, and make sure that if you ever wish to step back in the ring you will have to fight with every fiber of your existence like I had to. You will be tested like your never have been before. The world will find out if Michael Lively is all talk, they will find out if your are just the opportunist that people claim you are. We will find out if you are a wrestler, a warrior. We will know once the dust settle over the next few months to come if you in deed have the fight inside of you.
I know I do. When faced with the dilemma that I may never wrestle again I chose to fight. I clawed my way back to better then I was prior to the thieving injury I suffered thanks to your snake in the grass, flimsy ass. The way I see it Lively the world is a giant circle, and it seems we have come back around haven't we. This time it's your turn to be tested, it's your will to continue on that will be put on the line. Can you face demise and still make the comeback. Lively I promise that you will fall to my hands. I will be the man who slams the fucking door shut on your career. Living in Vegas I know odds, and I'm willing to bet the house that your heart is weak. You don't have the stomach for what I'm going to do to you let alone the will to make it back. It's on Lively, it has been for a long time you just didn't realize that I was lurking in the shadows. I have watching your every move waiting, and plotting the end of you my friend. We have our history, but who knew it was so deep huh. It's about to get a little deeper you asshole. I will be the bane of your existence, and be the reaper of your grim future. Michael Lively you know my name, you know me very well, but things between us this time will be far more different then ever before.
You are the one with the back against the wall. You are the one with everything to loose Lively. Your new title is up for grabs and I know how desperately you wish to have that leather and gold. I know because I used to thrive for the very same thing. The thing is Lively, Sabur told us not to get caught up in the pursuit of titles. He told us the damage that comes with the gold. He explained to us that if it comes then so be it. Neither one of us listened, and unlike you it finally makes sense to me. Michael, listen close because I haven't a thing on the line. The way I see it is that I'm a dead man walking. I shouldn't be here, and every second that I get is just a bonus if you will. What happened to me should have put me down for good, and thats what you were hoping for. Uh-Eh, not his big bastard, no sir. Lively you are fighting a man that wished for nothing more then your demise. You will be fighting for the sake of your title, the sake of your reputation, and most importantly to survive.
This will be a serious bout of intensity, and a match up people will tune in to watch. Not because we are two of the very best this sport has to offer. Not because of this seedy history between us. They will tune in because they will know just as I predict, it will be nothing short of a car wreck live on PPV. People will stare on in wonder and amazement hoping to catch a glimpse of the gruesome spectacle I plan on presenting. Lively that time has come, the bank is here to cash in on the loan you took out. Times up, no more people to borrow from, no where to turn. Just stand up like a man and deal with your debts. You owe me one year, and with interest I'm thinking your career should just about pay off the deficit. It's the House of Pain Michael, no escaping, no where to run, just a boat load of misery to endure to the bitter sweet end. Trust me when I say it will be bitter sweet Lively, I wish for nothing more then your blood spilled on the cold concrete floor and your lifeless carcass to be carried out from the warehouse after I'm through. It's new year, and time to pay up bitch.
Sabur then stands from the chair, ripping the lapel mic clipped to his t-shirt Obviously irritated by the thought of Lively Sabur storms off.
