So you learn something new everyday.  Three days ago I learned that Spice is a retard.  Two days ago I learned that the XWF is in fact a happier place with Hunter Ryan unemployed.  Yesterday I learned that Spice is a bigger retard than I could have ever imagined.  Today I learned that I’m dealing with a scholar on Sunday. 

First thing’s first, Dante, on the eighth day God was still resting – he made me on the ninth day.  I hear he also made training bras, thong underwear, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, and the Shamwow.  What?  He was bored that day.  It’s alright though, I’m fine coming after the initial seven days; at least I made it through Genesis.  I could have fallen through the cracks and not been created like other some things.  You know?  Like your sense of humor, your chances of winning on Sunday, someone who actually gets impressed by you?  Meh, God’s been busy – he’ll get to you eventually.  Just keep praying, I’m sure you’ll weasel your way ahead of the people of Haiti, the people of Africa, and black people in general on his list of ‘things to do.’

By the way, if you thought the English quote was cliché but a guy named Dante referencing scripture wasn’t then you’re not only on drugs, you’re on fucking brain thinner.  By the way, thanks for that Mr. Alighieri (just Google it…retards).  I’m serious, they literally must have JUST invented a new form of element that committed genocide on every one of your brain cells.  Market that shit dude, not only will you be rich, but there might even be people dumb enough after some recreational usage to think you’re a legit XWF Superstar.

Well, at least Spice will buy it.

Honestly though, I saw your promo and I’m pretty flattered.  I mean, I’m not gay or anything so you can stop slobbing on my Bigger Shank anytime now, but you said some really nice things about me.  Hell, some of your comments were borderline revolutionary.  Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen countless promos where my opponents essentially ran off a numbered list of my accomplishments like they were groceries before, but I’ve never actually watched a promo done by someone who actually was proud of them.  Seriously dude, you trying out to be my campaign manager or something?  The job doesn’t pay great, but I guess you can have it if you really want.  No sex though, I’m no Clinton.

Somewhere in that silly little promo of yours you also threw out some words to describe me.  What were they again? 

Psychotic?  I’m not sure how that hurts me really.  If you’re saying I’m willing to go absolutely insane in and out of the ring to accomplish whatever I feel I need to, then thanks, I guess.

Crazy?  There’s a difference between psychotic and crazy?  Who knew.

Degenerate?  No thanks, THAT’S cliché.

Stupid?  Now that one hurt me.  Not in the sense of ‘Oh my God, he made fun of me’ but more in the sense of it hurt my gut from laughing so hard.  Face it Dante, I could have the IQ of a fruit fly and still look like I’m capable of doing quantum mechanics and study empty matter compared to the retards like you that I work with.  Let’s face it, Dante, intelligence isn’t exactly on overstock around here.  Too many people like you couldn’t pass a coloring test unless it was color coded.  I swear to God, sometimes I think paint by numbers is too complicated for some of the morons around here.

Here’s a hint thought, Dante, use RED where the number looks like two circles..err…two round things stacked on top of one another.  That’s an eight.  The more you learn, right?

The point is, words can hurt my friend.  At least they can when they’re used properly.  For instance, some words and phrases that come to mind when I think of you include:  retard, failure, nuisance, Peter Gilmour, the best reason to use birth control, obnoxious, retard, and the part of your father that didn’t roll down your mother’s leg.  Though I’ll argue that the BEST part did in fact roll down her leg and land on the floor of whatever hourly charging motel she was working that night.  (For the intellectually challenged I just called Dante’s mother a whore…teehee.)

…Fine, I am immature.

Although I won’t lie, I’m genuinely excited for your rebuttal to that little statement.  Sure we can argue all day that you don’t think you’re a retard and your mother wasn’t a whore etcetera etcetera, but the fun part is there’s an iron clad word in there that you absolutely cannot argue.

You sire, are a bona-fide fucking failure.  You can argue all day that you never had a chance in a match like this so we don’t actually know for sure if you’re capable of ‘stepping up’ and taking me down.  You can go Chad on us and say you’ve been overlooked.  You can go Rage on us and say that other people have caught every break and you’ve caught none.  (By the way, I beat both of them.  Just giving you some talking points for your next Shank-For-God campaign rally.)  But I will counter all of the above and more with two simple fucking words.  Two words that will cut you deeper than anything else I could say ever could:

Hunter.  Ryan.

Yeah, that’s right moron, I remember, and you’re welcome.  I mean you were kind enough to run off every big match I’ve ever been in, so what kind of person would I be if I didn’t bring up your biggest failure…err match?  Remember that day, Dante?  I remember my last appearance as XWF GM taking place some time in August and actually naming you as the number one contender for Hunter’s World Title.  I thought you could do it, Dante.  To be fair I thought ANYONE could do it, but that’s another story.

Regardless, I personally put you in the biggest match of your career…

…and Hunter Ryan bitch smacked you like a red-headed step child. 

See, we’re back on the Annie thing again.  This worked twice, that’s a pleasant surprise.

THAT Dante is why everybody thinks I’m going to beat you on Sunday.  Because I’ve NEVER lost a big match in my career and you’ve never fucking won one.  I’m undefeated in Universal Title matches and I only lost the World Title because fucking with Raven took precedence over sixteen pounds of gold.  Bad news, Annie, I don’t feel like fucking around this weekend.

To be honest with you, I do expect this match to be a walk in the park, the last month has done nothing to prove to me otherwise.  But realistically, what do you expect me to say?  Do you want me to come out here and say I respect you as a human being?  I don’t.  Do you want me to come out and say that I’m impressed b your ability to run through the mid-card every week?  Well, you HAVEN’T run through the mid-card ask those new guys who kicked your ass last week, and even if you had I still wouldn’t flinch.  Getting in the ring with me is a totally different experience than what you’ve ever been through.  Even if you think you’re ready for it, I promise that won’t be enough.

You see, you think you have some advantage because I’ve never been in the ring with you before.  I didn’t think I was as stupid as you thought I was, but I’m missing a pretty important detail that might be enough to convince me otherwise.  I don’t totally understand how my inexperience with you could be an inconvenience for me when you’re just as inexperienced with me.  Uh-Derrrr I no speak English very good.

No Dante, you have no fucking idea what you’re getting into this week.  Me?  I have every clue because I’ve been there a thousand times before.  You’re absolutely no different than any other hot-shot who luck-sacked a title shot and thought he had what it took to make something of it.  When I see you I see Dr. Emo, I see Famine, I see Spice, I see Cady, I see GILMOUR.  I see every scrub in the XWF that is simply a class below mine.  I don’t see potential, I see a black hole of success literally sucking out any hope any of you have of getting anywhere. 

By the way, if you mean to tell me that ‘wanting it more than they do’ puts you above them then you’re fucking loopy.  I REALLY want Jessica Alba, I want her more than Cash Warren does; you still don’t see God hanging on to her panties and dropping her on a stripper’s pole in my house now do you?

Wanting something isn’t enough, Annie, sometimes you actually might be asked to earn something.  Let me know when you think you have that part figured out.  Pro-tip:  you won’t figure it out.  Ever.

Regardless, Dante, I have a request to make.  I think it’ll help us both out.  You see, a few weeks ago you asked me to show up at Snow Job at full force.  You wanted the Shank that beat Ranma at X, the Shank that pried the Universal Title away from his best friend in Bigg Rigg.  You wanted to see me at my best.  A few weeks ago I also said something, I said I wanted to prove to the mid-card that they would be better suited staying where they are.  This is where we can help each other.  This Sunday I want YOU to bring that tough guy that you’ve been bragging lives inside of you.  I think it’s more of a woman, but that won’t help me, moving on.  I want the version of you that is too stupid to know when to quit.  I want the version of you that is man enough to kick out of the Shankstopper, stand up, and take another.

Why you ask?

Well it’s not because I want a challenge…even if I did you wouldn’t have one to offer.

I want that version of you because I’m going to use you as a martyr to the mid-card.  I want the bastard that steps up and challenges me in February (there will be one, I’ll still have the belt) to know that I’m as psychotic as you claim I am.  I want them to see that I’m as blood-thirsty as you are pathetic.  I want them to see that getting in the ring with me means putting your fucking life on the line.  I want them to KNOW without a doubt that I am the golden standard of professional wrestling and I have no qualms about beating a man within an inch of his life to prove it. 

This will work out well, Dante.  You’ll get the match of your dreams with the man of your dreams (I’m still not gay, dream on) and I’ll get to beat you so badly you’ll never have another dream again.  Face it, douchebag, there’s only one way this can end – the only variables are how badly I beat you and how long it takes. 

By the way, just so you know, the whole ‘being somebody’s bitch’ thing sort of belongs to Jem Williams.  He was a winner…you?  Meh, you’re not.  Catchphrases should stick with people of similar talents.  If you want something that works for you check out a Hunter Ryan promo.  Oh wait, he beat you too?  We’ve covered that already?  Fine, fuck you then.  How’s that?  Good, I like it too.

You see, Dante, I DO live in my own little world.  It’s a fun place where I shit on anybody who gets in my way, use sophomoric humor (and big words) to make my points and have my fun and I literally rule this world in between bells on any given XWF evening.  I remain on top of this world by making examples out of shitheads like you and being the metaphorical windshield to their fly on the highway.  I am universally feared, respected, and utterly fucking dominant.  I call this world reality Annie, everybody else does too.  You’ll be experiencing it on Sunday. 

…And for every fucking day that follows.