No music. No interviewers, no hype men. None of that. I just want to talk to everyone involved in this DreamScape match on a more personal, intimate level. I just want everyone to understand that although some of you are taking this thing a little personal I’ve already seen what I needed to see. My points have been made and with all the bullshit I’ve seen here over the last few days and weeks, my victory is all but assured.
Let’s just break down who all is involved. A bunch of people I’ve never heard of or have heard from. Relics that were frozen in 1988 and thawed out in modern day. Another relic from the last decade who dares to show his face in my ring. A couple of washed up MMA fighters. One ragweed that thinks she’s a flower, and one flower who is too busy playing on obstacle courses to see the harsh reality of what’s about to unfold in front of her.
TJ Thompson, I’ve managed to not even think about you most of this time getting ready for this match. You know what you are to me, personally speaking? You are another silly little boy who thinks just because you win some matches here or there that you’re in my league. You won a six pack challenge too? Great. I won mine by dropping a man almost twice my size on his head and I don’t think that he’s recovered yet. I don’t know why you think you’re such a lock to win this but you would be advised that Lillie is not your competition: I am. You throw around stupid terms like jobbers like you aren’t the most bland, untalented man in this match. And considering that people like Tony Gun and The idiot with the Knife are involved, I would say that’s an almost impressive accomplishment. Whatever delusions you’re falling under, I strongly suggest you snap yourself out of them because the prize doesn’t have your name on it, kid, it has mine.
Now that I think about it, I don’t understand you people. Most of you have kept my name out of your mouth, very wise, but there are a handful of you who just love, love, LOVE talking about me! It’s like I’m a shit magnet or something because all your bullshit comes back to me. Jensen, look, sweetie, I don’t really care about your transformation one way or the other. And my opinion wasn’t meant to be some disrespectful put-down. I don’t know you and don’t really want to. What you want to do in your life is all up to you, babe, and if you want to play a third-rate Mean Girl extra then by all means do so. Also, don’t get it twisted that I think you’ll surprise some people that I think people are paying money to see you or give a damn about you. We are in some clusterfuck gimmick match, girl, not the main event. Nobody paid a dime to watch us kill ourselves. They are there to see Sabretooth, Oz-man, Matsuda and Song, Nas...you know, all the relics. If this match didn’t have a prize worth fighting for, I wouldn’t even be bothering to show up for it, but since they do have a pot worth winning, as Sir Alex used to say, I’ll win it. You’ve got some talent and you may even be somewhere close to half my skill level, but right now? You’re probably the 10th or so person on the list of people I find myself concerned with in this match. Just keep a low profile and stay out of my way in this match. I like pretty girls and it would be a damn shame if something were to happen to that pretty face of yours.
Nathan Quinn is another one. Oh boy...are you a piece of work or what, Chicken legs. Oh, come on, you make jokes about me being a thot and having a flat ass? Like you don’t suck in your beer gut or wear that stupid chest protector to hide your love handles. What part of you doesn’t understand that this is work for me, not something that I hold so near and dear like you and some of these other jokers, huh? What is it that you don’t understand about I don’t give a shit about wrestling. I’m here to work, get paid, and move on and hopefully be able to walk away unlike all those old geezers you used to hang out with backstage. People like you, you really think that love makes a difference in something like this, don’t you? Well, dude, there are millions of football washouts just like you who love football...that doesn’t mean they’re playing in the NFL or winning a Super Bowl, does it? Shit, I love Water Polo but I never amounted to anything in it. Love doesn’t pay the bills. Love doesn’t put food on the table, does it? Love is just an emotion that idiots like you feel for something so you can get fleeced out of money. That’s what love is. And do you really want to know why I have a belt already made for a title I haven’t even officially earned the right to challenge for yet?
Because everything I say comes to pass.
I told you all I was going to win my debut, I did.
I told you all that I wouldn’t be beholden to some giant robot-cosplaying motherfucker as a tag partner and that I would take off when I went solo. I have.
I told you all that I would win that six pack challenge that I was involved in. I did.
Who is going to stop me from making what I say true? You? Please. You and MIYOJIN couldn’t stand up to me before, what do you think is going to happen now that we’re in a match with something on the line, huh? You really think that cow of a wife of yours is going to fill you with enough “LOVE” to beat me? You’re full of something alright….shit.
As far as that blue barbie wrestling for the American Dream title goes, I’ve got much bigger fish than her to fry when it comes to my belt ambitions. She’s probably going to lose anyway but if she did, I’m not sure if she would rate high enough for me to even bother with. Sure she’s a “double world champion”, but can you honestly tell me the names of people she’s beaten? She’s like those old dudes in the sixties who magically won belts in Rio De Janeiro or some shit in tournaments absolutely nobody remembers. She’s a False Queen.
Don’t get me wrong, the other two in that match are just as useless, old and broken down. But at least Claudia realizes she’s a total bitch while the other two are sneaky about it. I never liked that.
I am the evolution of Strong Style, whether you want to admit it or not, Quinn. Your love isn’t going to save you when I bash your skull in, is it? So please, give me all the attention that you’re not home to give your wife. You look like you’re in dire need of a good release anyway...and by release I mean a thorough beating. You want to compare me to useless old cows, big boy? I’ll put you out to pasture just like I did your anime-haired friend. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made someone bigger than me behave.
Lillie, I don’t know what you’re plotting doing all this parkour crap. Maybe you think you’re going to Spiderman your way out of the cage when I’m not looking, huh? Oh no, princess. Out of all the people in this match, I hold you in the highest regard. I’ve felt your strikes and have seen your fighting spirit. You have more balls than most of the people who dare to call themselves men in this match. Just don’t disappoint me, okay. I like my challenges interesting and complex, not straightforward and lame like Nathan or Hull Kogan or Ran D Savage. Don’t be a letdown like Nasir is to his children and wife. I don’t love this business, but I do love competition. Give me everything. Every little quirky counter, every sassy strike. I want to know if you’re as good as I have been hoping you to be. For your sake I hope you realized that we’re going to be wrestling, not climbing a jungle gym or shooting an action movie and that even though I like you, I will not hesitate to snap your spine to get what I want out of this match. It’s not personal, it’s just how it is.
I demand for all of you to understand something: you people claim that I’m all hype, that I’m just a beginner to this. Hype is something that’s exaggerated, made up. Less than promised.
I’m none of those things.
I’m all real. All Woman. The savior that this sport doesn’t deserve...but the one that will deliver it from the Dark Ages anyway.
After DreamWorld, I’m going to turn this company into my own world. One belt at a time.
And for the fourteen unlucky punks standing in my way, you know how it goes. You get in the way of my cash flow?
I make sure your blood flows.
End. Fucking. Scene.
Sat Dec 03, 2022 4:36 pm by 
Subject: A Message to the Losers 
