Post by alycestarchylde on Apr 28, 2017 18:35:59 GMT -5
Limerick was an Irish city, and it resembled one, old buildings where the architects had done their best to infuse an ‘Irish’ look just to give the finger to the Brits that were running the country at the time now dwarfed by massive metal and glass monstrosities that looked like America ran the place now. Out in the countryside, however, were the green fields and ancient woods of Ireland proper. Here were a cluster of houses, looking like they might have looked a hundred years ago. There was a public house and except for the electric light spilling out the doors and windows, they didn’t look out of place either. The odd gas station or convenience store seemed almost grungy and faded by comparison...as if the modern world had somehow invaded an ancient time. If dusky naked warriors, skin dyed blue and hair dyed white clambered shrieking out into the roadway waving spears and calling for Death, it would not have looked amiss here in the Irish countryside as Thena drove the sputtering car through the Gaelic back country as twilight deepened into the blackness of True Night.
‘Carpe Noctus,’ Alyce said cheerily.
Thena responded with a loud and rather wet sounding fart.
‘Dear Bunny,’ Alyce cried out, ‘was that fooking necessary?’
‘As necessary as the Carpe Noctus crap that rolled out of your mouth,’ Thena responded, ‘You are in the Irish cotswolds, and around here, people still leave a bite of food and a wee cup of something for the Wee Folk in their gardens. We are on a fence between the old and the new...and having you on with things like that just garner attention we’d rather avoid!’
Alyce merely spun her finger in the air lazily.
‘I may be the eternally lost one, Thena,’ Alyce replied, ‘but at least my parents aren’t a mad Norse God and a mad Greek Goddess!’
‘Odin isn’t mad,’ Thena replied, ‘he just doesn’t understand what happened to the Vikings and Athena isn’t really mad either, she just Has a hella case of PTSD.’
Alyce sniffed and gagged.
‘It’s like a vinegar fart died in a rotten egg in here,’ she said, rolling down her window.
‘Too little, too late,’ Thena replied as she steered the aging car off the road onto something that looked like an unhappy cross between a gravel road and a cow path. The car groaned and growled and jostled along bouncing it’s unhappy inhabitants like popcorn as it pops. The ‘road’ stretched in a long semicircle that continued to make the car sound even unhappier than it had. Finally, after what seemed like minutes of bouncing and jostling the car entered out onto a gravel covered drive area where two or three other ancient looking vehicles were resting before a rather run-down looking country house. It’s cheap tile roofing threatened to slide out of place, the wood appeared as dark and dusky as ancient bone, the gambrels and moldings seemed to be about to fly apart. Alyce and Thena looked at it for some moments.
‘He’s painted it,’ Alyce remarked, ‘looks better.’
As if in response, an ancient looking shutter first spun upside down then fell to the ground entirely.
‘The power of positive thinking,’ said Thena. Both ladies laughed fiercely as they approached the ancient wooden double doors of the old manor house.
Arm in arm the ladies threw open the door and went inside. The smell that wafted out to great them was equal parts old sweat socks, rancid bacon, old bourbon and cheap tobacco. Alyce drew to a halt as Thena stopped to look at her. Somewhere a clock chimed ten times...Alyce looked down at her watch and realized it was 9:47 local time. The double doors opened on what used to be a family room but which had become a room for a giant couch that followed the wall. A giant recliner sat in the room’s center. Both recliner and couches faced towards a giant counter that separated the kitchen from the ‘drinking area’ and Alyce noted that the walls, the counter and any open space of furniture was festooned with hats. Hats of all size and description, tophats and tams, bowlers and bonnets, fezzes and fedoras and every other form of headgear you could imagine filled the room. A rather drunken looking Harry stood at the bar, a gauze bandage wrapped around his head. He looked at Alyce, smiled and said ‘I used to be a hatter, but then I ran out of heads!’ He laughed and drained a tumbler of some amber colored liquid. He sent the empty tumbler back on the counter as he wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve.
At the counter sat a man in a business suit that had seen better days, he had a large pint glass in front of him. He had large ears and buck teeth. He was very pale. ‘I dare say,’ he began with a thick Irish accent, ‘there’s a girl who doesn’t live in a shell!’
In a chair, a curious dwarf in a red smoking jacket wearing a fez snored loudly, he was seemingly curled around a bottle of whiskey. He snorted loudly waking up just long enough to speak.
‘...the eternal stranger, doesn’t belong fully in any world...not even this one,’ he mumbled as he drifted back to sleep.
Alyce looked at the man behind the counter with a smile and merely said, ‘Uncle Harry.’ Harry swept out of the kitchen and to Alyce whom he hugged fiercely.
‘Well I must have done something right during my time in the States,’ he said with tears in his eyes, ‘My other American daughter is here.’
She laughed, ‘You are a drunken lout, as always. I’ve missed you.’
After several long moments the two ended their embrace.
The jug-eared gentlemen spoke again, ‘You’re an American? Did ye know they have lakes their so big, anywhere else, they’d be oceans?’
Harry glowered at him for a moment. Alyce merely responded, ‘It depends on which America you go to.’
‘North or South,’ Jug-Ears asked.
‘Real or Imaginary,’ she responded.
Harry swept his hand towards the jug-eared gentleman, ‘and this blithering twit is Mister Cassidy Giorria...’
‘That’s PROFESSOR Giorria...’ Jug-Ears interrupted.
‘You’re NOT a FOOKING Professor, ya dirty HOO-ER,’ Harry thundered.
‘Maybe not in a traditional sense,’ Cassidy replied, ‘but I do PROFESS that I am a fountain of knowledge both common and uncommon!’
‘YOU’RE A BLOODY TWIT, IS WHAT YE ARE,’ Harry yelled back, then turned to Alyce and pointed to the gentleman asleep in the recliner, ‘and this far less irritating gentleman is Mister Tiberius Maus.’
The man in the recliner twisted about in the chair somehow keeping his fez atop his head. This elicited a prodigious snore in the midst of which he appeared to say, ‘...charmed, I’m sure.’
Harry shrugged. ‘There really isn’t a public house around here so these two come share the cheer here,’ he explained.
‘Speaking of which,’ Cassidy said happily, ‘We were discussing time before this young lass and her accomplice wandered in and it just occurred to me that right now is the best time of all!’
‘Time for family,’ Alyce suggested.
‘No,’ Cassidy replied, ‘time for another beer!’
‘Yes, have some,’ the sleeping man muttered.
Harry turned back to the kitchen. Alyce and Thena followed. ‘How are Dee and Dim,’ Alyce asked.
‘Bloody disturbin’,’ Harry replied prying the tops off a couple bottles of Burren Red, ‘I swear they are on something...but neither I nor Thena can figure out what.’
Alyce kissed Harry on his cheek. ‘How about Thena and I go check on them, and you take care of your guests,’ she asked. He smiled and nodded. She grabbed Thena’s hand and turned to go. They made it two steps before Thena stopped. Harry’s hand was suddenly upon her shoulder. As she turned back to face him, his open eyes were solid white, like a shark in mid-feeding. The jug-eared Cassidy and the formerly sleeping Maus also stared at her with the same alabaster white eyes. She turned to address Thena and noticed that Thena, too, was looking at her with eyes of solid white.
‘If you cannot solve the riddle,’ the collective group spoke, ‘then you lose control of your soul.’
And just like that it was over. Mr. Maus sank back in the recliner with a grunt, but not before nabbing one of the bottles of Burren Red that Harry proffered. A hitching snore followed almost immediately. Cassidy took a bottle of the Irish craft beer as well, taking a quick pull on the bottle while Harry turned away opening a third bottle for himself. She looked to Thena who looked back with a smile.
‘What the fuck was that,’ Alyce cried. Everyone (with the exception of the sleeping Mr. Maus) looked at her questioningly. Having some experience with unnatural moments like these. She shrugged.
‘I’m sorry, I thought I saw a bug,’ she announced and then she and Thena trundled off towards what she hoped were Dee and Dim’s rooms.
Thena led Alyce through an open doorway into a darkened woman. Lying on the disheveled circular bed in the center of the room was an almost stick figure of a nude woman wrapped haphazardly in a sheet. She stirred and moaned slightly, a moan that was echoed down the hallway. Some people had trouble telling the twins apart, but Alyce had no problems doing so. She turned to Thena with concern on her face.
‘Is Dim this bad,’ Alyce asked. Thena only nodded in response. Even in the slim light from the hallway, Alyce could tell Dee was pale, except for her eyes and cheeks which were both dark sunken holes making her face resemble a skull more so than anything else. Alyce gently inspected the inside of the girls elbows and in between her fingers and toes. She turned to Thena.
‘If it’s drugs, she isn’t injecting,’ she whispered.
Thena rolled her eyes.
‘If it was that easy, would I have called you,’ she asked. Alyce shrugged in response and then saw Dee’s computer humming away to itself on her desk in a far corner of the room. The monitor itself was black but the tower had lights on by which she deduced that the computer was on but in ‘power-save’ mode. She crept towards it. She gently took seat in front of it, unsure of why she felt the need for secrecy. She moved the mouse and the computer woke to life but demanded a password before it would let her access anything. Alyce smiled. Years ago, she, Thena and the twins had talked about computers and passwords. The Twins had suggested their choice years ago. Alyce carefully entered the name ‘Thing2’ and with a beep the monitor came to life. Alyce surfed around for a moment not seeing much of anything alarming other than Dee had virtually abandoned her social media accounts for the past couple of months and seemed to be spending all her time on a chat program called ‘Shimmerdark’. Alyce clicked the program open and behind her, Dee sat up in a start. She looked around the room warily and smiled at Thena...then she noticed Alyce at her computer and her face distorted in a grimace of hate and fear before she regained her composure.
With a smile that was more grimace than grin, Dee disentangled herself from her sheets and threw on a sports bra and pair of panties. She finished the ensemble off with a dirty pair of shorts and a grimy t-shirt that may have been pink or white judging from the meager light available. She came up behind Alyce and hugged her and as she did, her hand brushed the keyboard causing the Shimmerdark chat program to close...but not before Alyce had a brief glimpse of part of the last conversation that was used on the program.
‘I missed you,’ Dee whispered hugging her around the neck with a scary strength. Alyce grabbed her forearm lovingly.
‘Missed you too,’ she replied. Dee kissed her cheek with dry lips. It was like being kissed by a lizard, Alyce thought. Dee drifted over to her closet, opened the door and ran her hands through some evil smelling laundry and exclaimed loudly as she removed something from the odoriferous mess within. She shut the door and thus blocked the worst of the stench as she came next to Alyce.
‘Dim and I have discovered a new pleasure,’ she cried out setting a small bottle on the desk next to her.
‘Smoking Opium,’ Alyce asked jokingly.
‘Absinthe,’ Dim replied, who had just entered the room in an outfit that matched her sisters.
‘You simply MUST try it,’ Dee added. The twins looked at one another and shared evil-looking grins. Almost as if in a trance, Thena walked over uninvited and poured herself a shot glass full and swilled it down greedily. Her eyes seemed like black holes in the darkness.
‘Piggy, piggy,’ Dim and Dee crooned simultaneously...the sound inadvertently sending a shudder through Alyce.
‘How about I try it later,’ Alyce responded, ‘I’ve barely had anything to drink yet.’
Dim poured another shot of the dark liquid, which looked like liquid night in a shot glass. Alyce swore she could almost see stars within it.
‘Oh you simply MUST try it,’ Dee responded.
Alyce took the glass and set it down next to her.
‘Let me check my e-mail, and a couple of other things, if you don’t mind,’ Alyce smiled in response, ‘I’ll drink it as a chaser!’
Dee and Dim chortled in agreement and then went to speak with Thena about two men they had been speaking with online. They often made lewd comments followed with almost Hyena-like laughter. Alyce took the absinthe and dumped it down the inside of her shirt, touching the last drop of it to her bottom lip. Where she poured it on her bare skin, it felt like worms wriggling and sliding their way down her form. Where she touched it to her bottom lip, a cold numbness spread.
She sat the empty shot glass down and began to check her e-mail more out of form than out of any real need to do so. Once she was finished, she shut down the computer and stood up. As she did, Dim looked at the shot glass and seeing it empty, smiled. She turned to Dee and nodded in Alyce’s direction. Dee looked at the shot glass and smiled as well. Alyce pretended she didn’t notice. She loved Dee and Dim but they were not bright and even did sinister poorly. She crossed over to the Twins and hugged both deeply allowing herself to feel just her connection to these two beautiful (if not bright) young girls; her would-be sisters if things had worked out a little better than they did. She loved them, even if she did not often see them, she loved them. They sat on Dee’s bed and played catch up. Dim and Dee knew what they learned on the streets of Shannon (not much), what they saw on television (they were fascinated with Kaitlin Jenner and Donald Trump), and the things they saw on the internet. The pair claimed to be dating twin brothers with the last name Mortean. They did not say much else in the way of description of their suitors, but echoed their opinions endlessly. That the world had been ruined by the internet. That technology was a bane to mankind. That the planet could simply not handle the life teeming upon it’s surface. That man ‘needed to know his place’ and that most men preferred a slap in the face to having any say in leadership. So much of the rhetoric was scary and painful. So much sounded like it had been written by a psychotic Koch brother who longed to return to almost a modern feudal age. As the clock leaned towards 11:30 pm Alyce noted Thena (who had long been a night owl and more often than not was up and going at night and asleep in the day) drooping, her eyelids drifting down. More and more Dee and Dim looked at her as if not seeing something they were expecting. So as Thena toppled backwards onto the bed with a protracted snore, Alyce pretended to drop as well. Dee and Dim looked at each other with triumphant smiles. Alyce watched the twins as best as she could through mostly lidded eyes.
‘Finally, she sleeps,’ Dee said in a fierce whisper.
‘Yes,’ Dim responded, ‘and the coachman will arrive soon.’
‘It’s a shame that she, too, must lose her soul,’ Dee said.
‘True,’ Dim answered, ‘but a small price for the love we have found.’ Dee nodded in response. Dim stood and flowed out of the room. Dee followed behind her like a shadow. Alyce did a slow, leisurely count to 100 in her head. Then she rose and warily followed after the twins. She thought she heard them heading towards the front door. She followed behind them and as she peeked out of the hallway, she heard a commotion outside. Looking out the hall window, she saw a black coach with a small driver hitched up to four coal black stallions pulling into the semicircular driveway. She heard the front door open as the twins darted outside. Alyce leapt out into the main area just as the girls disappeared outdoors. At that moment an ancient clock struck twelve. As Alyce looked around the front room she saw ‘Professor’ Cassidy Giorria sprawled upon the floor, his face still recognizable even though his head had become that of a large rabbit, his giant brown furred ears twitched as he slept. In the recliner, Mr. Tiberius Maus had apparently become a midget-sized mouse, curled up asleep in the chair, it’s pink tail shivering across his chair. The mouse was still curled around the bottle of whiskey, although there was much less than there had been earlier.
Harry, dear Harry, lay on the floor of the kitchen, his worn leather boots protruding into the sitting room as loud snores echoed into the ceiling.
Alyce knew she was seeing their true selves. She had told Mr. Giorria that there were two Americas, the Real and the Imaginary and that was true but it was also true of the larger world. As one who had been born on the in-between, she could see both worlds at certain times. It was part of why she had such a tough time fitting in. Midnight was one of those in between times. Neither night nor morning, but a border between the two. There was magic to it and she woke to that magic in a way that most did not any more in the modern world. Still, she had no time to dwell on it and so exited as silently as she could to keep Dee and Dim in view.
She came outside to see Dim disappearing into the coach. The coach itself was dark grey with a design in black metal upon the door that Alyce could not make out. It was hitched up to four coal black stallions that champed and stamped eagerly. There was no rear window in the coach, only side windows and these were kept veiled. Quickly, Alyce crept to the rear of the coach where she saw and ornamental wood fringe at the bottom of the coach and a black metal rail at the top of it. Thinking of every medieval story she had ever read, she grabbed the metal bar, put her feet up on the wood fringe and prepared to hang on for dear life. The coachman, a tiny shriveled, wizened man-thing clad in a tiny suit with a cloak and a top hat rose to it’s feet and cracked the whip and the carriage began to ride. As the carriage moved, Alyce was surprised to discover that it moved easily, no bumps or bounces. This, however, began to worry her when she looked down and realized that the wheels were not quite making contact with the road. She realized the same had to be true of the horses. Her stomach dropped slightly, however, this was not the first time she had seen artifacts that answered to the rules of other words. She only clung tightly to the coach as it diverged from the semi-circular driveway and headed through the woods. There was no road or track that the coach seemed to follow, and yet the coachmen goaded the otherworldly contraption through the woods without making a single scuff on tree bark or snapping a single branch.
Before long, the coach emerged from the woods onto the shore of a lake. At the muddy edge of the water, the coach turned following the coast of the lake for some minutes before coming to a large cave mouth beside the ancient lake. With a cry and a crack of the whip, the diminutive coachman drove the four horses towards the cave and in they charged. There was a moment of total blackness and Alyce felt her stomach flop, like it would going down a hill in a very fast car and suddenly they seemed to be emerging from the same cave onto the same shore in the very same woods. But as Alyce looked around she realized some differences. The moonlight here was much brighter and the light was silvery, like radiant metal, the trees too were different, Birch trees with bright white bark were everywhere her eyes could see. Even the lake itself seemed illuminated as if lit from some internal source. Even the coach had changed, the black metal growing silver once they emerged from the cave mouth. As she looked at the metal rail her hands gripped, she noticed something else...she could see through her hands. She seemed to have little more substance than a shadow and was as transparent.
Now, too, vibrations thrummed through the frame of the coach as the wheels touched the loamy surface of the shore. So, of course, the wheels did not touch in our world because they were not made in our world. Alyce smiled to herself. The solution to this mystery was becoming clearer.
TO BE CONTINUED
Welcome to Wonderland
Alyce stands in front of a black, starred background. She has a smirk on her face as she looks into the camera. She smiles and begins to talk.ALYCE: Wrestlewars! Wrestlewars 11! The Big Dance! The Night of Stars! The Showcase of the Immortals! Unless, of course, you happen to be wrestling for the Intercontinental Title in a series of matches leading to a ladder match. Then, it’s like a bunch of social outcasts going to the prom hoping for one night they will get accepted by the posh kids! It’s one of the biggest collections of losers and fucktards I have ever seen, myself excluded. I mean you look at the folks competing at WrestleWars and you see a significant collection of losers and rejects who haven’t and don’t matter. But before I deal with my opponents, I just want to drop a line to Velvet and Circa. Hey, ladies, you guys are going at it like angry fucking cats over the fact that there should be some sort of Women’s title or other award for the best female wrestler. Wake up, this is the 21st Century ladies and I intend to be the greatest performer this company has ever seen; man OR woman and I have ZERO interest in furthering the folie a deux you two seem to be sharing that we should exist in some sort of shared universe where we are separate yet equal to male wrestlers and we wrestle in our own little world. Eff THAT, ladies! It’s a great big world out there ladies, put on your big girl panties and at least try to kick it’s ass!
Now moving on to my fellow competitors for the Intercontinental Title. It will be a series of Ladder Matches leading to an even bigger match and looking across the metaphorical ring the collection of opponents I see are mostly, a sad looking bag of shit that will do nothing and accomplish nothing and how they got in this tournament is quite a bit beyond me. Apparently Flash Rotten had a God-damn dartboard and tossed out a bunch of darts and whatever name it landed on, THAT person was put in the tournament!
Let’s start with John ‘New Breed’ Cable. Didn’t you used to be Darian Dream or something like that? You wrestled under a mask and teamed with Terry Borden and eventually disappeared after a feud with the idiotic Lunacy? Dude, I get it, you took off your old mask and now you are trying to put on a new one. You decided to do what the other aging Goth kids did and shaved your head and started listening to harder music because you think it makes you ‘evil’ and you think evil is ‘cool’.
*makes honking noise
*
ALYCE: You are wrong, you ain’t cool and while you might have done well, this fed is one bowl flush away from being shit splat. Man if you were riding high in this fed even two years ago, that might mean something. Here lately as I look around I see most of these people are mid-carders on parade. And THAT’s the top echelon! That’s you and Tristan Slater...the best guys in the fed are barely mid-carders. Well, I am here now and I promise you, guys like you, Cable, are about to be pushed down to the mid-card where you belong. And I know a guy of YOUR mentality is probably about to say something about ‘HUR-DUR You are a girl! I will beat you!’ Well before you even get to that point let me just say I dare you, I God damn DOUBLE dare you to get close to me because I am going to embarrass you and rip your head off on national television. But hey, you are almost talented compared to SOME people in this match. *
For example, Nick Ryan. Dear God, where the fuck did Flash dig YOU up from? I mean, I know Hunter is knocking around here because his brain is scrambled and he hasn’t realized he sucks like Jodi Arias trying to get an extra prison desert. But you…! I mean, I get it, you were World Champ for 4 months at a point when this fed was soooo bad off it makes the current incarnation of this fed seem like a collection of Greek Gods by comparison. Since then you keep trying to make comebacks only to have the latest mid-carder trying to jump to the top spot beat you like you owe them money! You are a joke, you have always been a joke, your title reigns have been jokes. Most people laugh directly to your face that is how little respect they have for you. I swear, you are the biggest reason I believe that participation in this tournament was determined via dart toss! Look, I will make you a deal, stay the fuck away from me and I won’t embarrass you. You seem to think that someone beating you is accomplishing something. FACT: No, they aren’t. Beating you is the wrestling equivalent of swatting a fly. Everyone can do it even, most likely, infants and that makes doing it forgettable and meaningless. I’d rip Flash a new asshole for your inclusion in this match but hey, he can’t get everything right. Go pound sand up your ass.
Then there’s Jaymz Dante. Who the hell…? Where? Man, who the hell are you? First of all, either you need to kill your retarded parents because the way they spell James is criminal OR you need to look yourself in the mirror and slap your face because I find it FAR more likely that you changed the spelling because you thought it would make you cool! Pro tip: it doesn’t. How the hell did you GET in this match. Everyone else, I can see the reason. Jamie O’Hara...yeah, fine. John Cable, alright I get it. Kyle Shane, oh look another Wrestlewars appearance by the king of the douchebags! And even Nick Ryan has name recognition. But...you? You have done nothing! I guess you were trained by Sam Hain but when was the last time that douche bag was relevant? Even Mic Ferrari would have been better and that guy is a collection of broken promises and lucky victories. But you? I really am not sure who the talent ‘low point’ in this match is...I mean, I am pretty sure it’s Nick Ryan but it he COULD be a close second to you. You bounced around XWF and accomplished not much of anything and now you are going to do the same thing here. I’ve outclassed you before we even step in the ring and if you so much as plant yourself in my path I am going to give you the Rainbow Cataclysm and consider you finished. The worst part is...no matter what you say…deep down inside you know you don’t have a chance against me. You are nothing and less than nothing and you know it. Now, go choke your chicken while telling yourself you’ll be a big boy one day. I just imagine that’s what a sleazy nothing like yourself does just to get it up.
Kyle Shane. Welcome back to Wrestlewars number 5? for you. What a big deal! What a hell of a guy! What a ta-ra-ra-goondiay! Look man, I get it. It’s time for the yearly dressing down of your ego where you get into it and win a couple of matches and then your motivation burns out like the fickle ember it is and you wind up not even being able to successfully beat your meat and so you leave with a shattered sense of self and no self-esteem. You consider taking your own life while you hide out while you hope against hope people forgot just how beatable you were. Then, when you think the stench of your failure has fallen to nascent levels you return with huge fanfare just to start the whole process over again. It’s a vicious cycle and it appears to be something you are powerless against. So let me help you out. How about, I kick your ass like it’s not even a thing and embarrass you in your first big match back and then you can sneak out of the fed under cover of darkness and hopefully nobody will remember you were even involved and then next year, you can come back all over again. I swear, you are like a battered woman and the WGWF is your abuser! Or maybe a Brokeback Mountain reference is more appropriate? Maybe it’s Kyle Shane looking at the WGWF with a sore asshole saying, ‘I wish I knew how to quit you!’ in a whiny voice. Whatever the case man, you are sometimes an honestly talented guy...but you don’t really believe it and every time you face a Dante or a James Raven you psych yourself out and wind up riding the express train to Loserville. Well, let me tell you something, I am better than you ever hoped to be and I got you the Loserville express pass. Have fun on the trip home!
Finally, there is Jamie O’Hara the King of Bullets (whatever the fuck that means) a guy that I have to admit is more talented than I thought him to be and it cost me a victory. But can you blame me, man? The guy has essentially the same haircut as a poodle, where’s mirrored shades that were last in style sometime in the eighties and is every worst example of a hipster douchebag otherwise. I mean, Jamie, Kyle Shane looks at you and says, ‘Wow, what a hipster douchebag!’ It’s sort of hard to take you seriously. That being said, you have a modicum of talent and you camouflage it well. Congratulations. All that being said, you still aren’t on my level. You are good but I am the very definition of greatness. You are what’s left after a career in the mid-card, I am rising to the very top and about to shoot past you like a comet. You have a basic wrestling skill set, I am a talent unlike any other seen in this company and I simply will not rest until I have my spot. You achieved a career goal getting a win over me, but if you learned anything from our last encounter on Brawl the message was this: ‘I can get to you whenever I want’. This is payback...this is where I rightly and properly dispose of you. This is where I see you coming and destroy all that you are and all you ever hoped to be. This is the opportunity that I take away from you. You want something better than insults, how about this? I am better than you. Simple, honest and eminently provable. And this Monday, I prove it.
I will walk out of WrestleWars this Monday as the new Intercontinental Champion and there is not one of you with the ability to stop me. Step up, bring your very best but at the end of the night, this is my match and I will walk out the victor!
Welcome to Wonderland, boys...it get’s dark from here…