No, Please, Tell Me More About Your Military Service. I Swear I’m Interested.

I knew you’d fire first.

And I knew you’d say I was a communist and question my patriotism.

Do you know why?

Because it’s the same bullshit everyone else does. Look at all the other shitty promos people made for War Games.

Same shit you said.

BECAUSE YOU’RE FUCKING BORING!

But, you know what? I’ll entertain you.

You asked a question: “Who the fuck are you?”

I’m a World Champion. Three times over. A former LSD, ICON, Tag Team, Stable, and HOFC Champion. I’m one of only a few people who have beaten Mike Best in HOFC. I’m a Hall of Famer. And yes, I am a three times War Games winner. And yes, I’ll stack that resume up against your wrestling resume any day of the week.

Also…let me stop you on half the shit you’ll say.

WE ALL FUCKING GET IT.

You’re a soldier.

You served.

WHO GIVES A SHIT?!?!

It has nothing to do with NOW! Your military service has done fuck all to help you in wrestling. Look at what you did for War Games. While I was actually training for War Games, you got your little stever hard blowing away a couple of Russians. La-de-fuck-dah.

As for my military service? No, I didn’t serve. And yes, you’re right, you did. But tell them why. It wasn’t because your country needed you. The only reason you joined the military and were handed a gun is because no college would hand your dumb ass a diploma instead.

You survived real war? Great. Then why couldn’t you fucking survive in a wrestling match, you fucking quitter? You got your ass pinned. You survived how many fire fights? How many battles?! How many skirmishes?!?! And what the fuck did it get you?

FUCKING NOTHING AT WAR GAMES! FUCKING NOTHING AT EVERYTHING ELSE!

You’re a disgrace. You’re a fucking joke of a wrestler who hoped to coast on his military laurels.

You complain that you got attacked from behind. What do you think happens in war? Everyone stands on the hill, weapons at the ready, waiting for the order to charge down the hill? It’s fucking War Games, douchebag. Get your fucking head on a swivel. Start being the alpha male and stop bitching about what happened to you! Otherwise, I’ll take your tears and sour grapes and make myself a nice glass of wine. Or, since you’re so “toxic male” maybe I should take some grain, hops, water, and some yeast from your fucking man-gina and use it to make a Solex Beer – now with 75% more estrogen!

You are a curse upon HOW.

Everything you touch you make worse.

You made the Best Alliance worse. You made your War Games team worse. You make the Highwaymen worse. So, I’ll be damned if I let you touch the HOW World Championship so that you can make that worse.

On top of all of that, you also make our shows worse.

You and your shitty “Leave It To Stever” segments. Everyone hates them because they serve no purpose.

It’s just you.

Talking into the void.

Bigging yourself up.

Because no one else will, not even the Highwaymen.

You answer questions from Steven’s Sack…. Oh bravo! Golf claps all around. Clever name. I assume you named it that because like your actual sack, it has no balls in it.

To the Highwaymen, you’re a mascot. A charity case. Look at everything you’ve done with them. Clay Byrd had to drag your ass through the Invitational this year. And every time your team lost, you ate the pin because you’re a fucking loser. And no matter how many “Leave It To Stever” segments you do or how many medals you earn in the military, it still translates to you being a shit wrestler.

Just to qualify for War Games, you beat MDM. I beat a former two time HOW World Champion while shitting all over his marital problems. Byrd and Fuse put you against MDM because they didn’t feel that you could handle anything tougher. I was purposefully put against Bergman to take him out of the fucking equation.

Our match on July 3^rd is about putting you in a cage, one on one, with me, the GREATEST American of all time.

So bring your medals, bring your military service, and do what you’re good at. Eating another loss because someone better isn’t there to drag you to a victory.