Tell me, Lester, and I want you to be honest here…how do you feel about your chances?
Pretty good? Pretty confident?
Maybe you think because you’re such a big man that you’ve got the advantage?
You know what they say, Lester…the bigger they are, the harder they fall.
I’ve got a lot to get off my chest coming off of two losses in a row, and I am absolutely relieved to be taking my frustrations out on the most delusional man in High Octane Wrestling.
People have called me delusional for having faith in something they don’t understand, but that pales in comparison to a man who literally thinks he hasn’t lost a match despite the record books saying otherwise.
Imagine standing backstage and having the absolute gall to say “that wasn’t a loss, that match didn’t even last a minute” when addressing getting your ass handed to you by Clay Byrd.
Lester, you are a physical specimen to behold and by all rights you deserve to talk as much trash as you’d like…but as of right now you are in no position, logically, to be having such delusions of grandeur.
The only person you’ve managed to beat since joining the ranks is Sean Stevens, but it seems to me like it’s almost a requirement to beat someone with the surname Stevens in this company as of late.
I sure as hell hope that four losses in this company is enough to spark a fire under your ass to actually make a statement for once, to wanna do as much damage as someone of your size and stature is capable of…because it’s only taken two for me to get back my killer instinct and wanna tear right through you.
You know what makes this even worse for you, Lester?
This is HOFC.
That means I’m back in my zone now. I’m a dangerous man in any scenario, but inside that cage I’m a force of nature.
And I am looking forward to wrecking the hell out of you come Saturday.
As far as I’m concerned big boy, this is my home…and I will defend my house against all invaders, big and small.
Just ask the Steves, Solex and Harrison. They’ve seen what I’m capable of when I step in that cage and do my thing.
I’d tell you to ask Simon Loveless and Hannibal Frost, but they ran off not long after I revealed their hearts just weren’t in it.
What about you, Lester? You got a sizeable heart befitting of that frame?
Or are you a coward deep down, hoping to shock and awe folks into overlooking your ineptitude?
Because that won’t work with me, buddy. I see right through your little façade, and I will dismantle it for the whole world to see.
I’m gonna size you up and tear you down, all for the glory of my goddess.
I’m gonna cut the legs right out from underneath you, and work my way up from there.
Bring you down to your damn knees, making you far more manageable as I expose you for the wasted space you really are.
And when that’s over with, I’m coming in with the final strike that keeps you down and out.
The best part will be knocking you out cold, as quickly as possible, so I can collect whatever bonus I can get at the pay window and go home to regroup and refocus.
Because frankly, Lester, that’s what this is to me…a turning point.
This is my chance to turn my fortunes back around, at your expense.
I’m gonna be the one to make you regret ever buying that raffle ticket. When I’m through with you, you’ll be searching for the one that sold it to you demanding a refund.
I’ll be the latest in a string of losses, and you’ll be all out of excuses. There’s nowhere for either of us to run or hide, and there will be no escape from what I have in store for you.
And when I’m done, I can focus on the next step. I will get my revenge for the embarrassment I’ve faced, one match and fight at a time…and you’re going to be the first.
My goddess will get her sacrifice. The first of many, this I promise you, and she will smile upon me, allowing me to reap the fruits of my labor.
My toiling will soon result in a bountiful harvest, at your peril.
Hail Eris, hail Discordia.