Mike Best, you ignorant slut.
I know exactly what kind of tournament this is. If you’re gonna try to educate me, do it right. You call this a “fucking trash talk tournament” like that did Simon Loveless and Steve Solex any good. They talked all the trash their hearts desired, and what did it get them?
Three rounds in the cage with an angry disciple of chaos, who made them eat their words.
Meanwhile, you’ve bought into your own hype for so long that you’re spouting off bullshit that doesn’t even make sense. Maybe you should spend less time thinking up those clever pop culture references and more time on logic and reasoning.
I am amazed and astonished that you would make the same critical error that Solex and even Loveless made, and that is where your road to ruin begins.
Of course I’m going to call you a hypocrite. Saying you “just can’t be beaten” when MJ Flair could show up any moment just to remind you of War Games will do that. That’s one loss in nearly a year, I know, but that’s my point…there’s a crack in your armor, and now I’m going to exploit it. You want the world to believe you’re perfect, but a man holding his own appreciation month and padding his win column is anything but.
I don’t pretend to be anything but what I am, and that is a man on a mission.
I’m on a mission to overwhelm and destroy, much like I did to Hannibal Frost before running him out of HOW. I’m on a mission to take the mighty and make them humble…such as I did to Simon Loveless and Steve Solex. And now, I’m on a mission to take that which is held in highest regard…and that is your claim of perfection, O Son of GOD.
Saying something over and over and over again doesn’t make it true, Michael.
It’s a harsh reality that you’re gonna learn to accept really damn soon, because I’m going to beat that bullshit right out of you when we step into the cage. For all the grade school insults each one of you has thrown my way this tournament, it’s become clear that I’m not the one living in a fantasy world.
I am, as you so eloquently put it, paying attention to the present.
I don’t like to speak excessive fluff, I tend to deal exclusively in facts. I earned my spot in this semifinal fight, not from my reputation but from my pure talent and hard work.
But sure, I’m another fucking nobody, Mike.
Keep telling yourself that, make it will give you a sense of reassurance when we step into that cage. Since you clearly skipped it over in formulating your witty rebuttal, let me spell out in excruciating detail just what is going to happen this weekend.
That bell is going to ring, and you’re gonna put on the same song and dance you always do…and I’m gonna stop you right in your tracks. All that hype is surrounding your knee, and that’s the target. I’m going to make a beeline for it, and I’m going to shatter it for everyone in the Best Arena to watch.
And then, I’m going to destroy your body, mind, and soul. I’m going to expose you for the fraud that you are, and I’m going to tie a bow on it by knocking you the hell out of this tournament.
It’s the gift that keeps on giving. The whole world will see how far the mighty has fallen, and they will watch as I punch my ticket to March to Glory. The world will bear witness to the fall of Michael Lee Best, and the rise of Xander Azula. The head disciple of chaos will make his goddess proud, and make good on his promise.
All eyes will be on the final outsider, as he ascends to the throne he was destined for…and then they will look upon you and laugh.
The mighty king, the Son of GOD, reduced to a pile of broken bones and broken spirits in the middle of the cage, praying for forgiveness and mercy…but it will be too late for you, Mikey.
The altar will be torn down, the icons paying tribute will be burned to the ground, and the worshipers will embrace the truth that’s eluded them for so long…that Mike Best can’t turn everything he touches to gold.
All hail Eris, all hail Discordia.