Good evening all you ungrateful plebs—
I shouldn’t have to remind everyone about this but seems some of you haven’t committed to those New Years Resolutions of improving. Maybe everyone is stuck at the same corner Hollywood’s been trying to turn for the last 5 years. So, for all those types, let’s get the New Year started off correctly. As everyone here knows our Father and GOD Lee Best demands all the eyeballs. He knows no one gives a shit about your Shitty Side Discords, your Threads, or your Twotter Machines.
They only care about THE MACHINE and HOW. Spare us your tears, the Best Family does not need any more SALT in their diets.
Neither some annoying little pricks idea of FINGER FOOD…such a worthless FISHER PRICE move from a sad little douchebag who couldn’t even muster a single vote in the singles Hall of Fame category.
Anyways, enough fucking games, let’s get down to some business.
As a good and grateful ADOPTIVE son would do, I feel like I need to remind some third-tier 2-time Hall of Fame pleb about their spot in the GOD DAMN world.
Yes, Jason Parker Davidson; I’m talking to you fuckstick.
I’m very fluent to what’s been going down in your contract negotiations. Honestly, you’ve got a copy/paste job that only Dan Ryan and Scott Stevens would envy. You claim sitting on your ass is a smart move to value your GOD DAMN talents. You think you have the authority to retire and set your defenses even without a fuckin’ contract.
But newsflash, some dumb little video game prick tried that shit, and the BEST GOD DAMN legal team got that fucker to issue a presser in record time.
You think just because you have status means you get to fuckin’ set the rules with the great Lee Best. FUCK NO! Lee Best’s pinky toe nail is worth more money that you could net for the HOW brand in one fuckin’ year, Jace. That’s why GOD doesn’t want to get off his throne and waste his time with you Jace. You can beg like Keith Sweat all day, but you got to earn it and you fuckin’ failed.
You lost to John Sektor. You failed to run the gauntlet. You failed at your chance to wrestle with GOD himself. Now you want to go cry like one of your sad, worthless harems and fuckin’ down a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and call it a fuckin’ day.
Guess what mother fucker? That’s not how professional wrestling works, jackass. You step up and defend that belt. You acting like some edgy 2000s emo kid doesn’t draw ratings. You stepping your fat, lazy ass into a professional wrestling ring is what does build credibility.
Since you think I’m some underwhelming goon that is beneath your time; let me crank that clock up on your title reign a bit. I issue a challenge for the LSD Championship on the first show of 2024. The queue on your challengers has now officially grown by one. Surely, there’s some bylaw my father can use to expedite this match.
I damn well understand what that title means to the HOW brand and it needs to come home where it belongs; with a fighting champion. One that stands alongside the great Lee Best. It’s the only title left that doesn’t belong to the Alliance and I’m damn well gonna make sure that no other worthless pleb stakes their claim against you first.
See you soon, you little passive aggressive prick.