Gaz' thread of unused promos

The lights go out in the arena, the fans aren't sure how to react. After nearly 30 seconds of the lights being out, a too familiar pyro flys through the arena and hits the stage causing a huge outburst of pyro on the stage. A theme song begins to play.



The theme song of The Dudley Boyz hits as the fans go absolutely nuts! There is an amazing pop for the 23 Time Tag Champions finally making their debut in XWL. The theme plays for nearly a minute as the fans grow anxious. Suddenly the lights come back on and the music stops. After a few more seconds, Bubba Ray Dudley walks onto the stage alone. He's wearing a black shirt, jeans and has shades on. His hands are in his pocket as he walks down the aisle to no music, the fans are cheering him but he doesn't acknowledge them at all. He picks up a microphone that's on the steps and once he gets into the ring he orders the ring announcer to get out.



[Bubba Ray] I'm sure you were expecting to see me and D-Von burst through this curtain, full of energy, didn't you? Well I'm sorry to dissapoint you but The Dudley Boyz are DEAD. You can hear the fans collectviley gasp in unison. Yeah, I had that same reaction too. Let me tell you a little story, alright? Myself and D-Von were inseperable, we were without a doubt the very best thing in the tag division in any company we were in. We had the most hard hitting finisher known to man, we could put anyone out with that one move. Screw Ric Flair and his 16 title reigns, D-Von and I had TWENTY THREE Tag Title reigns. We conquered, ECW, WWF/E, TNA, we even had the WCW Tag Titles. Fact is, everywhere we went, we dominated. Now this new company surfaced a while into our retirement, XWL. I've seen a lot of punk tag teams coming up here thinking they're the best thing since sliced bread and it ticked me off. I had people like Evan Bourne and Dolph Ziggler, or R-Truth and The Miz saying that nobody can stop them. When we all knew that if any of those chumps came up against us, they'd be dead meat. I felt a motivation in the past few years to get back in the ring, I got myself in the best shape of my life and hand on heart I'm keeping it this way. And when I talked to Mick Foley, my good friend about bringing us in for one last run. You know what D-Von had to say about that? He didn't want any of it.



[Bubba Ray] So how the hell am I supposed to react? I trained for about a year getting into ring shape again, let's be honest, I was a big man and I've trimmed down and I'm proud. I felt that we had one last run in us. But when we got the contracts, D-Von chickened out. You know what he told me? That he didn't think we had it, he thought we were washed up, he would rather spend his time at home with his family. That's the thing about him, he's soft. I've always been the brains of the tag team, I carried him around the whole world. If it wasn't for Bubba Dudley, there would be no D-Von Dudley. The fact that we were tag partners was just a lucky shot for him, I could've chosen any of my brothers but I chose him. Little did I know he would be the anchor that held me down for so long, he stopped me from showing my true self. But my true self is here. So when D-Von told me all of this, I was angry. I can't believe that my own brother would stab me in the back like that. I thought about talking about it to him, talk to his family about it and see what they think. But I went with who I really am, I slapped him in the face. I told him that I've had enough, I told him that I'm sick of his SH*T!!

The fans have become dead silent, they're consumed with his speech.



[Bubba Ray] I tried to be a nice guy, I tried to will him back in to doing what he was born to do but he's done. But honestly I couldn't give a damn, because all he's done is make himself fade into obscurity while I get my chance that I've always deserved. The D-Von I locked eyes with when we had those contracts was not the same man I teamed with for 16 years. That ruthless son of a bitch is gone, and a plain ass family man is in. So I ripped up his contract, I threw it in his face, I haven't spoken to him since. And I've never been happier, so I signed that contract. I kept on with my routine of being in the best shape of my life. Now that I'm back and ready, I can finally put The Dudley Boyz behind me. After 16 long years, I'm going to do this dance solo and I'm going to do a damn fine job of it. Because there's not one frickin' "Superstar" that can stop me! I say superstar because being a Pro Wrestler is a rare breed now... You've got your Ted DiBiase's, Dolph Ziggler's, Justin Gabriel's all running around posing, doing flashy moves. That's not wrestling? That's some boring ass Twilight crap to get some girl fans you sick freaks!! On the other hand, I... am a PRO WRESTLER. I'm a born bully, I'm BULLY RAY!

His words seem more hateful more and more as he goes on, he slowly lifts his shades from his eyes and puts them on top of his head.



[Bully Ray] D-Von, do you think I wanted it to come to this? Of course I wanted to bring The Dudleyz back for one last run, kick ass and take names. But it turns out I'm just going to be doing it myself, and atleast now I realise that I'll be better off this way. I'm not here for glory. I'm here because I'm a Pro Wrestler. All I want to do is kick some ass, get paid, and get laid. That's who I am. No more "D-Von get the tables!" no more "What's up!?" It's just Bully Ray, D-Von is retired and gone. The wizards of the wicked wood are dead and buried, but what has been revitalized is MY career. D-Von can sit at home with his boring family like the Jannetty he is and he can watch as I show the whole world what I'm all about. He can watch as I single handedly weed out all of the fakes in this company, and I'm going to start with the X-Treme Division, or whatever the hell you call yourselves these days. Never in my life have I been so disgusted at a companys attempt to bring back hardcore. If you want hardcore, you bring the hardcore elitists. I sure as hell don't want to see people like Sin Cara, Spanky and Michael Freakin' McGillicutty calling themselves hardcore.



[Bully Ray] I'm a cruel bastard, I'm making no bones about it. I should've been locked up for some of the stuff I've done in wrestling. I've set people on fire, grinded peoples faces' with a cheese grater, used chairs, ladders, bells, hammers, kendo sticks, tables. You name it. Hell, I even powerbombed Mae Young off a stage through two tables. And I won't hesitate doing that to anybody else, because I will not stop until the word "hardcore" actually means something here. Believe me, that word hasn't meant jack in a long long time. It's because all of those "hardcore legends" are tucked up at home, held together by duck tape and staples because they can't handle it. Do you see Tommy Dreamer in XWL? No you do not, his fat ass is sitting at home crying about ECW dying. Do you see The Sandman in XWL? No you do not, his drunk ass is.. hell, who cares? He's probably in some jail drunk as we speak. Look at Tazz, look at Sabu! They're all gone, I'm the last of a dying breed. I'm the last man who has true hardcore background and if it's the last thing I do I'll make this place a lot more hardcore. Not to pay tribute to ECW or anything like that.. to show that I WAS ECW.



[Bully Ray] Don't even get me started on that indy crap too. When I see people like Davey Richards, Daniel Bryan, Chris Hero. Any of those guys go around claiming that they're the best in the biz' because they can wrestle for an hour? it makes me sick to my stomach, if any of those so called wrestlers stepped up to me I'd show them who is exactly the best. Even that Punk Kevin Steen, he's the fatass who goes around saying he's the Anti-Christ in XWL, right? Pssh, Steen. You don't know jack about what it's like to be that hated. No matter how hard you try, you won't be able to top me in any way. That's because you may try to piss off the fans, but let's face it, they love you. Back in my day when I was your age, I had people jumping over barriers trying to get to me because I was despised everywhere I went. Not like any fans these days would try that, because they're so fat and illiterate that they wouldn't know what to do... Man, does it feel good to get all of that out in the open. I haven't felt this fantastic in a long time, now that I have D-Von out of my spotlight I can finally be me.. And the real me, is here to stay. So deal with it.

After he finishes talking, Ray simply throws the microphone over his head and makes a sharp exit. He once again doesn't acknowledge the fans as he walks up the ramp, heavy boo's rain down on him.

{{Jim Ross}}
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Breakdown and we are just moments away from our Main Event of the evening!

{{Jerry Lawler}}
I can't wait JR! The Whole Shebang is finally gonna get what's coming to them!

{{Michael Cole}}
World title shots? Because honestly Jerry, that's the only thing they deserve besides all of our respect.

{{Jerry Lawler}}
You can not be serious! These guys are just out right jerks!

{{Jim Ross}}
Whether or not that is true doesn't matter. Once they step in the ring with the Heart Break Kid and the leader of Cenation, all the games they've played, stop.

{{Michael Cole}}
And then they beat the makeshift team that shouldn't be a team in the first place. Cena and Michaels finally get a dose of what they need from a great team!



The crowd erupts, expecting the lights to go out, but they hesitate, as Michael Cole speaks up.

{{Michael Cole}}
Is this more of Jeff Hardy's little sound system games? I didn't even think Taker was here tonight!

As though to answer Cole...



And then the lights go out. The crowd comes fully alive, all doubt fading away as another gong sounds and the ominous theme of the Deadman begins to play over the speakers.



As the gongs sound, the stage begins to fill with smoke and the titantron comes to life with lighting strikes, the arena taking an eerie shade of purple. The camera zooms up the stage right into the smoke, searching it. And then they find it. Standing amidst the smoke... The one and only, Phenom.



Just a mere silhouette within the smoke, the Deadman stands tall, not moving, allowing the camera to get up to him. The camera spins around him, revealing the man himself from the side.



The Undertaker is obviously emotionless as he stares down at the ring, still stationary. A few moments pass then he takes off in a slowed stride, making his way to the ring.

{{Jim Ross}}
By god it is the Undertaker.

{{Michael Cole}}
He was here just a week ago! Who cares!?

{{Jerry Lawler}}
I'd watch it if I were you. The Phenom isn't one to be speaking poorly of.

{{Michael Cole}}
What is he going to do? Come after me? I am the voice of this company and I'd like to see him try.

The Undertaker has made it halfway down the ramp by now, his slow and usual stride carrying him. Once he reaches the bottom of the ramp, he halts, as though planning his next move. Behind him on the stage, fire erupts, as though signalling for him to move.



He snaps to his left, walking over to the stairs. Once reaching them, he turns to them and pulls out his trench coat, allowing him to climb them more easily. He climbs them and halts at the top, raising his hands into the air, causing the lights to come on. He then crosses onto the apron and enters the ring, holding onto his hat. He crosses the ring now, taking a mic from a ring hand and turning back to the middle of the ring as the lights dim throughout the arena. He faces the camera and brings the mic to his lips.



{{The Undertaker}}
Time and time again, I have walked into this company, and then out of this company. Never lasting for more than a month or two. It's a continuous cycle that I can not seem to break and I despise it everyday. I have conquered other places, giving myself the title of a "Phenom." A title that I think is misplaced. Something, that I do not think I have yet acquired. I can not be a Phenom in this industry, until I have done all it has to offer to me. This, includes XWL.



{{The Undertaker}}
In XWL, I have no streak. I have no legacy. All I have, is what I can bring with me. All I have, is myself. Though what I may have done in the past is great, what I do from here on out is what defines me. I can already see, some have done that. Some have moved on from their pasts and created new futures. Shawn Michaels, for one. A man I have had many wars with has come to this company and conquered. Triple H, as another. Already showing who he truly is. And countless others. People who have moved on and up over the years, climbing their obstacles with no complaints. That is what I am here to do.

The Undertaker lowers the mic, allowing this to sink in as the crowd cheers him.



{{The Undertaker}}
This time, I do not plan to continue the cycle. This time, I plan to define my legacy in this business as the one and only Phenom. My clashes before now, have been fierce. But now, it's a new level. Now, it's a new playing field. Now, I'm here to prove something. No longer the top of the mountain, but the one who is attempting to climb it. I have become that, and that is something to be very, afraid of. Next week starts the uphill battle. Next weeks starts my climb. Next week, the Phenom, begins to be reborn.

With that, the sound of lighting cracking echos through the arena, the theme song of The Undertaker picking back up again.



The Undertaker drops the mic and turns away from the camera, exiting the ring. The camera spins to ringside where the trio commentary team sits.

{{Jerry Lawler}}
The Undertaker seems to be on a mission. I feel sorry for whoever gets in his way!

{{Jim Ross}}
I'm right there with you.

{{Michael Cole}}
As if! Undertaker is losing it. He isn't half of what he use to be. Hell, I bet I could take him!

{{Jerry Lawler}}
I'd like to see you try!

*We return backstage to see Enzo Amore and Colin Cassady by themselves as Enzo talks to Colin himself.*

[Enzo Amore] So thats when I says to her, if you want some of ‘Zo, you best be ready to go. How you DOIN’?

*Colin looks at the camera noticing they’re on air as he nudges Enzo on the shoulder and points to the camera. Enzo freezes for a few seconds but starts talking right away to cover up.*



[Enzo Amore] My name.. is Enzo Amore. And I am a certified G and a bonafide stud. And you CAN’T TEACH THAT!

[Big Cass] How you doin’

[Enzo Amore] And this.. this is Big Cass, he’s 7 foot tall and he’s the baddest man you’ve ever seen and you definitely CAN’T TEACH THAT!

[Big Cass] How you doin’



[Enzo Amore] Bada Boom!… Realest guys in the room! Now Big Cass over here, he’s got a lil’ debut match tonight, ain’t that right big man?

[Big Cass] You got that right ‘Zo.

[Enzo Amore] Who are you up against?

[Big Cass] Mason Ryan.

[Enzo Amore] Mason Ryan?! Do they know that it’s 2014? Not 2011! He may have the big muscles but he ain’t got no brain. By the time Big Cass over here is finished with Mason Ryan he’s gonna be called Mason Cryin’

[Big Cass] How you doin’

[Enzo Amore] If Mason Ryan says he’s gonna beat my man Big Cass? He’s gonna be Mason LYIN’

[Big Cass] How you doin’!

[Enzo Amore] And I know he’ll be Mason Tryin but by the end of the match he’s gonna be Mason… DYIN’ HOW YOU DOIN’?



[Big Cass] Me and ‘Zo ain’t stoppin’, we don’t take no breaks, we-

[Enzo Amore] Yeah we ain’t no Ross and Rachel!

[Big Cass] Huh?

[Enzo Amore] Yeah you know Ross and Rachel, from Friends?! They were on a break and Ross cheated on her and-

[Big Cass] Enzo! It wasn’t cheating if they were on a break..

[Enzo Amore] Don’t start this big man, you gotta get this frustration out on Mason Ryan instead, alright?!

[Big Cass] But there’s one thing we can agree on, if you and I got our own show we’d be a WAY bigger hit than Friends.

[Enzo Amore] How you DOIN’?

Breakdown returns with the theme of Stephanie McMahon playing loud and proud. This woman, who has been hell bent on destroying careers since day one comes walking down the ramp, head held high.



The princess of the wrestling industry rounds the ring, climbing the stairs, smiling widely. She enters the ring and walks over to the ring announcer, grabbing the mic from him and turning to the crowd. She pauses, allowing the crowd to boo her. This women has spent time trying to get rid of Dean Ambrose, Shawn Michaels, and Eric Young. If not for her father last month, involving all three of these men in the world title chamber, none of these three would of seen the world title picture. The crowd seems to calm slightly, but not by much. Stephanie raises the mic, unimpressed.

[Stephanie McMahon]
Are you all done yet?

The crowd grows louder in their boos, Stephanie smiling cockily, happy with the hate.

[Stephanie McMahon]
That's fine, have it your way. I'll just talk over you. We stand, just one week away from Eye for an Eye. The event where our current world champion, and by far one of the best world champions will defend his title in an Elimination Chamber. Not only that but also the diva's title, being defended inside of the same hellish structure. Along with several other matches, but that isn't what I want to talk about currently. I instead wish to address something else however. I would like to address one, Heartbreak Kid, Shawn Michaels.



[Stephanie McMahon]
Last week, Shawn got rid of a thorn in my side, better known as Dean Ambrose. The same man who brought back the group known as the Shield and brought havoc to my company, my employees, and myself. Thanks to Shawn, now, Dean Ambrose has forfeited his rematch clause for the world title and brought about the absence of Dean Ambrose for a long, long time. So, I simply wanted to thank him. Thank him for getting rid of one of the sleaziest pieces of scum this company has ever presented over the years. Though, Shawn and I may not see eye to eye, he did the right thing.

[???]
Hey, hey, hey! Calm down with that nonsense.

Stephanie spins to the titantron, knowing this voice all too well. Her eyes meet the face of Dean Ambrose, the man who many thought wouldn't be here tonight.

[Dean Ambrose]
So are you done spreading lies out there or should I wait a moment?

[Stephanie McMahon]
What.... How?

[Dean Ambrose]
How? How am I here and not caught up in some hospital? Because you can't kill Dean Ambrose.

The crowd comes to life, cheers galore as Ambrose graces the titantron, staring down Stephanie.

[Dean Ambrose]
Hasn't that clicked in that pretty little head of yours? I'm not, like, everyone else. I'm not a normal human being. I'm considered to be a little bit more out there compared to others. So you really think a freakin' chair to the face is going to put me out? I'm insulted. I'm bothered by the fact that you think I'm something that is just going to fade away. I'm the man, who pitted the Shield together again, just to ruin your day. I'm the guy, who ruined your main event at Digital Decision, just because I could. I'm the guy, they who isn't about to sit down for no pompous bitch.

The pop from the crowd is almost deafening as Dean runs a hand over his head, trying to constrain himself for a moment. Stephanie appears appalled by the fact that Ambrose is even here, let alone what he said.

[Dean Ambrose]
Week in and week out, you have attempted to make everyone's life a living hell. A hell, ran by a she devil. I'm sick of it. I was sick of it weeks ago, and I'm sick of it now. So, let me tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to continue to turn these tables around, till you're the one in your own personal hell, then I'm breaking the table, just to prove a point. You don't, own me. You don't, control me. Just, get it through your head already.



[Dean Ambrose]
I know, though. I know what you're thinking. You're asking yourself why am I bothering you, when Shawn is the one who put me "out" right? Well let me fill you in on the way things have worked. For weeks, and weeks, and weeks, and weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks, I've been at Shawn's throat, trying my damnedest to get rid of him. And for what? To fix something? Why should I attack the mercenary, when I can take out the captain? Why am I bothering with him, when you're still around?



[Dean Ambrose]
I just want you to know though, you made me do this. You're the one who came out here, night after night, and refused to grant me my title shot. And even now, I mean, really, even now, you're telling these people that I've forfeited my rematch clause. If not for your dad, the only McMahon with an ounce of sense, I wouldn't of been mention in the title picture for months. So, after weeks of being drug down by you and your pathetic little antics, I'm done. I'm done with these games.



[Dean Ambrose]
I'm at the point to where it's either kill, or die trying. So let me tell you what's going to happen. The next time I get within five feet of you, I'm putting you through a table. Then, I'm going to drag you back to your feet, and make you apologize to me, and all of these people, for having to put up with you, every single week. Then, I'm going to put you through another table, for not sounding sincere. So, be on the look out Steph. The fringe, is coming to get you.

Ambrose pushes the camera back, causing it to crash to the ground. Ambrose begins to walk away, only his feet being seen. The feed to the titantron dies, and turns to static. Then turns back to Stephanie, who stands in the ring, appearing worried. She looks from her left to her right, then raises the mic.

[Stephanie McMahon]
Security! Get down here! NOW!

A moment passes and here comes the cavalry, one after another, security gues comes running to the ring, sliding in and crowding around Stephanie. Stephanie continues to look from left to right, still appearing worried as her fear comes to life.



Sierra,
Hotel,
Echo,
India,
Lima,
Delta,

S.H.I.E.L.D.

The theme starts up as the security guards spin around, trying to find where Ambrose might be coming from. A few moments pass and then the crowd pops, the camera spinning to the announcers table where they find Ambrose climbing over the barricade, onto the table. He stares down the ring, holding Stephanie and plenty of security guards. He cracks his neck, slowly removes his jacket, and the takes off. He slides into the ring, the guards pouncing on him before he can get up, trying to end this before it can start. Stephanie is moves towards the side where the ramp is.

The guards start to remove her from the ring as Ambrose begins to battle his way to his feet. The crowd cheering for Ambrose as he stands and goes toe to toe with several officials. One after another, they fall thanks to the punches of Ambrose, rolling from the ring as they fall down. After many of shots, and many of security guards falling, it comes down to Ambrose and three others. Ambrose sends one into the turnbuckle, following him and connecting with a huge elbow to his face. He takes off across the ring where the other two stand, recovering from a handful of fists that took place moments ago, Ambrose clotheslinning both of them to the mat.

The duo roll from the ring as Ambrose is left with one lone guard, who has tried to sneak up on Ambrose. Dean turns around into a huge right hand from the guard, causing Dean to fall back against the middle rope. Dean explodes off the middle rope, connecting with a clothesline that turns the guard inside out. Ambrose stands, running his hands over his face as he turns to the ramp, where he finds Stephanie and three guards, standing on the stage. He points at Stephanie, and then moves to the guard on the mat, picking him up and setting him up for the Dirty Deeds. He stares right at Stephanie, then drops the guard with his finishing move. He jumps up off the mat, leaning forward over the ropes, practically taunting McMahon who is rushed into the back for her own safety. The camera cuts to commercial break as Ambrose goes to make his leave.

We're back live here on XWL Breakdown with a shot of all three commentators sitting at the announce desk!

[Michael Cole]
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to Breakdown! Up next is the highly anticipated match-up between Shawn Michaels and Chris Je...





The crowd goes wild as the theme of the ever unstable Dean Ambrose blares through the arena! Michael Cole's jaw drops so far it nearly hits the announce table as he begins to stutter and stammer.

[Michael Cole]
I...he...wha...h-he can't be here! That man was destroyed! His career was ended by Shawn Michaels with that elbow drop to his head! T-They said he'd never be back in an XWL ring! Y-You gotta...you gotta be kidding me! Oh no!



The roof nearly blows off of the arena as The Lunatic Fringe has returned to XWL! Dean Ambrose is back and looking for a fight as he tugs at the collar of his leather jacket, head tilting back and forth as he looks around the arena, clenching and un-clenching his fist.



Ambrose slides up to sit on the apron as he looks around the arena, hand combing through his hair, tugging on the wet strands of brown locks before he rolls in between the middle and bottom rope to enter the ring, bending through the middle and top ropes on the other side of the ring before hooking his arms in the top rope behind his back, soaking in the cheers before demanding a microphone. Ambrose begins walking around the ring muttering to himself, smacking himself in the face a few times before talking.



[Dean Ambrose]
Michaels...Michaels! MIIIIIIIIIIIICHAAAAAAAAAAELS!

Ambrose scowls before breathing heavily into the mic, taking a few moments to take a few deep breaths.




[Dean Ambrose]
For those, who, ah...who are new 'round here...pay very, very close attention...'cause I'm only gonna repeat this so many times before I just start goin' and rippin' people's freakin' faces off, 'cause Dean Ambrose is in a face-rippin' mood tonight!

The unstable Superstar begins to rub his taped right palm against his cheek, smacking it a couple times.



[Dean Ambrose]
See...my name, is Dean Ambrose...former XWL World Champ...former member of The Shield...former member of The West Side Army...former member of the Men of Honor. When the two men who I thought were my brothers and I first got back together to wreak ourselves a lil' havoc around this place, the first thing we did was teach Shawn Michaels that you do not...mess...with us. Shawn Michaels...ain't nothin' no more. He's the ol' dog in the yard. Six years ago, he was retirin' Ric Flair, the Nature Boy, and Shawn Michaels was callin' Ric Flair..."Ol' Yeller." Well, Shawny-boy, the Heart Break Kid, and all your other lil' nicknames. Lemme explain it to ya this way. In this situation, YOU, my ol' pal, are the "Ol' Yeller." YOU, are the ol' dog in the yard who needs to be put...outta his misery.

Ambrose emphasizes the last few words by pointing his fingers to the camera in the shape of a handgun, "pulling the trigger" at the lens.



[Dean Ambrose]
Shawn Michaels, I want ya to realize...want ya to realize that you ain't the big alpha dog, the nasty leader of the pack. All you are now, is all bark, and no bite, 'cause all you are now is just a run-down, low-down, ol' man who ain't got nothin' to show for all your hard work but a messed up back and a lil' less hair than ya did all the way back in '96 when your lil' boyhood dream came true. You ain't a kid no more, Shawn...you need to stop livin' in your lil' fantasy land, your lil' memories of the past before you lose your smile...again.



[Dean Ambrose]
But while Shawn Michaels was elbowin' a chair into my noggin up 'ere, what was my brothers doin'? What was Seth Rollins doin'? What was Roman Reigns doin'? It's been a lil' while since ya messed me up, Shawn, but I got a memory like an elephant...I know that when I was laying down in that ring, my ears ringin' like the Liberty Bell, my head rattlin' like a rattlesnake tail, blood pouring out my head like someone put a big ol' hole in a water jug...Reigns? Rollins? My brothers? They didn't do a damn thing.

Dean continues to look out into the crowd, wiping his nose off on his wrist tape as he walked a circle around the ring, free hand not holding the microphone coming to rest on his shoulder, tapping his arm with his pointer and his index fingers.



[Dean Ambrose]
They stood back in our locker room, gettin' themselves all nice and pretty, while I was busy scratchin', and clawin', and fightin' to keep my ass conscious long enough to make it out the arena on my own damn feet! They ain't....my brothers...anymore. I ain't got any brothers, far as I'm concerned...I ain't got no one to keep up, no one to feed back at home, 'cause all I got, all I need, is Dean Ambrose! It's been that way from the very beginnin' of my life!



[Dean Ambrose]
I grew up livin' in a public housin' project in the very heart of Cincinnati, Ohio, ain't ever havin' nothin' but a couple bucks in change and the clothes on our damn backs! Where I had to steal, had to fight just to survive. Had to deal with a dad who was in prison most my life. Had to deal with my mama goin' out and spending the money she was s'pose to use to feed her precious lil' baby boy, and gettin' herself a little booze to help get her a buzz goin' until I became a goddamn man and got all my food on my own, solo, ain't no one to share it with, ain't no one I wanted to share it with, 'cause if I didn't fight for any food? I wasn't gettin' any food. Simple as that! Ain't no reason for me to stand out here tryin' to sugarcoat it.




[Dean Ambrose]
Rollins? Reigns? Far as I'm concerned, they ain't dirt worth enough to go wipin' off my shoe. Shawn Michaels? When I get my hands wrapped around that pretty boy primadonna's throat one more time, I ain't gonna stop squeezin' 'til he's left in just a lil'...a lil' puddle of what all them bones and them muscles and them tendons used to be. Then they can ship his ol' ass to the retirement home where he belongs, they can ship Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns to freakin'.....Tanzania or wherever, ain't no skin off my bones wherever the hell them fools wind up...while I go out on my own, while I go out and be the best damn Superstar in XWL history, and I go out and become the next XWL World...Heavyweight...Champion.

Ambrose growls as he roughly tosses the mic down on the mat, the microphone echoing a loud thud through the arena.

We're in what seems to be an illuminated corner of a seedy basement, with torn walls and dirty floors. A voice whistling "The London Bridge is Falling Down" is heard, getting louder and louder every second. A shadow is seen against the wall, at which point the whistling stops.

???:
Oh, hello there, Mr. Shadow. Glad to meet you on this lovely occasion.

A figure finally steps in and it's none other than The Lunatic Fringe, Dean Ambrose, sporting shades and a sick leather jacket. He smiles and points at the shadow.

Dean Ambrose:
You see, that's who I like to call Mr. Shadow. He's almost always there, especially when I start to do some.....bad things. But let's not get carried away here.

Ambrose faces the camera and sneers.



Dean Ambrose:
I don't think there's any need for an introduction. You all know who I am and I know who all of you are, simple as that. Now on to business. You might wonder what I'm doing here in this room that looks like it hasn't even been thought about in the last couple of years. Well, this is my home, as I like to call it, my "happy place". This is where I go to gather my bearings, think about things, and try to calm myself down. Though the key word here is try........

Ambrose walks off for a second, then returns holding something in his hand. He looks down on it and then shows it to the camera; it is a photo from his indie days, his match against Brain Damage years ago. More specifically, this photo was taken when Ambrose was subjected to an electric saw to his his forehead. This photo seems particularly bizarre because not only is it worn out due to it probably being crumpled up and mishandled, but also because it has some blood marks around the edges. Dean laughs as he begins to talk about the picture.

Dean Ambrose:
Every time I look at this picture, it brings back memories. Memories that aren't particularly good.....

Ambrose puts his shades up, tilts his head, and his eyes start to bug out for a moment.

Dean Ambrose:
....and then the rage sets in......

Ambrose tightens his fist, and then he slams it into the wall. He starts punching the wall several times before he notices that his knuckles are bleeding. He chuckles as he turns toward the camera again.

Dean Ambrose:
This is what happens when I get angry. I don't care what the consequences will be, if I start getting pissed off, then I'm going to break something or someone. Yes I admit it, I have anger management issues, not every schmuck out there is perfect. Couple that with my.....unusual thoughts, and that's why everyone in the locker room looks at me like I'm a psycho...

Ambrose puts his shades back on.



Dean Ambrose:
And that's what separates me from the others. While those guys are in the back waiting for their match to get started, you know, thinking about how they're going to win their match, people think about, "Oh man, I wonder how I'm going to beat this guy tonight", while I'm thinking, "Oh man, wouldn't it be wonderful if I could just rip this guy's arm right out of his socket?" because the thing that's most important to me is conveying my message, showing off my artistry, so to speak. Unlike everyone else currently participating in this wonderful industry, I'm just what you would call a sick guy.  What? Is that not represent "family entertainment" enough for you or something? The corporate scumbags can't control me just because I'm....different. They've tried to fix me before. The higher ups on the corporate ladder said to me, "Hey Dean, you should go to a shrink to get your mental health in order." And you wanna know what happened? After I was done with my first, and last, the guy was apparently so messed up from our encounter that he quit his job. Yeah, he'd seen some shit, but he hasn't seen anybody quite like myself.

Ambrose walks off again and appears to be holding two photos in his hands this time. The first one he holds up to the camera is one that was taken right after he was declared the new World Heavyweight Champion.

Dean Ambrose:
Ah, I remember this wonderful night. When I beat that two-faced Alberto Del Rio and got my baby. Yes, my little child was around my waist, and I was as happy as I'd ever been....We were to be inseparable, going along together like 2x4s and barbed wire, money and hookers, intertwined forever......The next few months were the greatest months of my life. I had everything. Money, power, respect. This place was like an empire to me, and I was the head honcho. I took care of Ted DiBiase, I put that old man Stone Cold out of his misery. I was riding high like nobody else.

Dean kisses the photo.

Dean Ambrose:
Beautiful times.

He then places it down as he pulls out the other photo he tilts his neck again like he did before, but this time he calms himself and laughs it off a bit.

Dean Ambrose:
Now, now. No need to get angry again, you already dented the wall for the 79th time this past week......But who's to say it wouldn't hurt to dent it for the 80th time?

Dean's about to plant his fist into the wall again, but slaps himself in the face, stopping himself.

Dean Ambrose:
Keep calm.

He shakes his head violently, then stops and shows the next photo he has in his hand: A picture of Shawn Michaels celebrating with the World Heavyweight Championship. The thought of such an event makes the gears turn in Ambrose's head. He tries to suppress the bad thoughts, but old habits die hard, and he succumbs to the rage, punching the wall repeatedly. He notices that his fist is covered with blood this time, and he holds one finger to the camera.

Dean Ambrose:
One minute.

Ambrose walks off and stuff is heard being rummaged through, wood and metal clanking on the floors and walls as things are probably being thrown around. The rummaging stops and Ambrose returns looking at the camera with a smile and with a golf club in his hands.

Dean Ambrose:
It's time.

Ambrose swings the golf club at the wall, causing a larger hole to be made. He swings it at other parts of the wall a few more times, then stops when he tosses the club away. Ambrose looks at the wall, admiring his work.

Dean Ambrose:
Now would ya look at that! That might be a new record.

Ambrose looks at the camera.

Dean Ambrose:
I'm feeling much better. Anyways, that night when that old, decrepit, geriatric has-been took my title away from me, it was terrible. He had his buddy, former buddy, sometimes best friends, sometimes worst enemies, I don't know! He had his old friend HHH in that match just to make me miserable. And I swore vengeance on him. But sometimes revenge can wait. As proven multiple times, you know, like that one time at Eye for an Eye, where I still didn't win the big one.......But you know what, when that time comes, and when me and Shawn finally face off again, it's going to be a much different result than he had intended. This time, I'm going to take that scrawny, archaic neck, and I'm just gonna-

Ambrose makes a crack sound and laughs.

Dean Ambrose:
Break it. I hurt people. I kill people. I'm Dean Ambrose. That's my job, and I love it.

Ambrose chuckles as he walks off.

The rabid Breakdown crowd are electric and clearly excited for the next piece of action to unfold their very eyes judging from the noise they're making.  This tables are suddenly turned however, as their roar becomes one of negativity as the master manipulator himself Paul Heyman appears from behind the curtain.  The absence of entrance music emphasizes the reaction he receives, but as per usual he strides towards the ring with a confident power-walk.



[Jim Ross]
Well folks, it looks like Paul Heyman has something to say.

[Jerry "The King" Lawler]
Doesn't he always?



[Michael Cole]
That's just disrespectful King.  You're talking about a man who has been behind so much greatness being achieved in this business.  He's arguably the greatest manager of all time.  Show the man some respect already!

[Jerry "The King" Lawler]
Maybe if he showed anybody other than his "clients" some respect people would think of him differently...

Heyman is now in the ring with a mic in hand.  He takes a moment to clear his throat before raising the mic up to speak over the roar of the crowd...



[Paul Heyman]
Ladies and gentlemen... my name is Paul Heyman.  But there is no doubt in my mind that you already know that because judging from your reaction, my reputation precedes me.  Now, I know that you might not like the fact that I am the representative of the very best that XWL has to offer, or maybe it's that you disagree that they are the best and think that somehow, someway your own favourites will surpass my clients, but you're all sadly mistaken.  What you all need to understand is that I have a keen eye for talent.  To be honored with the label of being a Paul Heyman Guy is a career-maker.  It's bigger than becoming the World Heavyweight Champion.  By being associated with me you are guaranteed to be remembered for years on end.  All the championships, all the victories... everything else that comes along with it is just a bonus.  I work alongside my clients to write our names into the history books where we will undoubtedly go down as the all-time greats.



[Paul Heyman]
But I am not out here tonight to promote myself.  As you all know, I am the advocate for Mr Money In The Bank himself... The Voice Of The Voiceless... The Straight Edge Saviour... The Best In The World.... C...M... PUNK!  And I am also the advocate for The Swiss Superman... The King Of Swing... The Future World Heavyweight Champion.... CES...AR...O!  Both of my clients are highly respectable and talented athletes... that is why they are under my management.  But as they say, three is the magic number.  I am out here tonight to name a brand new Paul Heyman Guy.  I am out here tonight to turn my clientele dynamic duo into an intimidating lethal trifecta.  



[Paul Heyman]
Ladies and gentlemen... my newest client is a man whom I have burned bridges with.  But those bridges which were reduced to ash have been rebuilt with an iron foundation.  We have rekindled our business relationship and together we will once again reign over this company and destroy all who stand between us and success.  Ladies and gentlemen... my newest client has achieved greatness wherever he has showcased his natural talents and ability.  He is a former NCAA Division 1 Champion... he is a former UFC Heavyweight Champion... and he is a former WWE World Heavyweight Champion... Ladies and gentlemen!... He is the Cage-Fighting Carnivore!... He is the Conqueror!... He is the Beast Incarnate!... Ladies and gentlemen... I give to you.... BROCK LESNAR!!!!!



[Michael Cole]
Oh my...

As the opening to Lesnar's theme begins to play, Heyman smirks maniacally and begins to clap over-enthusiastically as his new client appears.



Brock is all fired-up and looks ready to resume cracking skulls and taking names.



He performs his usual entrance, jumping from left foot to right then back again on the spot...



Before thrusting his arms up and back down while letting out a beast-like roar.



As Lesnar completes his entrance down the ramp, Heyman continues to shows his adoration for his Beast, glowing as Brock climbs the steps and climbs into the ring.  Heyman offers his hand to Brock in a handshake, sealing the deal, which he accepts without hesitation.



The two turn to face the camera side of the ring, and as the music dies down, Heyman again begins to speak.



[Paul Heyman]
This, ladies and gentlemen... is the man who will rule over XWL for many, many years to come!  Take out your cellphones and capture this moment.... Set your DVRs to record... because this is a historic moment which will go down in history.  This is the moment that BROCK LESNAR begins on his destructive path to glory!  This is the moment that BROCK LESNAR's career is put back on track and the body count begins to rise!  This is the moment that BROCK LESNAR's undeniable standing as the greatest of all time began to be solidified!



[Paul Heyman]
I implore each and every one of you to forget about the recent months.  To banish whatever recent memories you have of my client.  He is not someone who should be joking around with Kurt Angle.  He is not someone who should be looked at as some kind of comedy relief.... to be made a mockery of by both XWL management and by the XWL Universe.  My client BROCK LESNAR deserves better and as he is standing before you right now under my guidance, I promise you that he will never suffer that same fate again.  Together, Brock and I will make all of you and the powers-that-be regret ever laughing at him or making him into something he is not.  



[Paul Heyman]
My client BROCK LESNAR is no clown!... quite the contrary.  My client BROCK LESNAR is a monster!  He is a destroyer!  He is a conqueror!  My client BROCK LESNAR is six-foot three-inches tall and two hundred and eighty six pounds of pure muscle!  My client BROCK LESNAR is without a shadow of a doubt the most impressive physical specimen to ever grace this ring!



[Paul Heyman]
You show me someone who is more impressive?  You can't and you know why?  It's because my client BROCK LESNAR is a once-in-a-lifetime athelete!  He is an anomaly!  He should not be this talented and to put it bluntly he should not be as good as he is!  From this moment onward my client BROCK LESNAR isn't going to be held back!  He refuses to degrade himself or perform at a lower level any longer!  From this moment on my client becomes the wrestler that he was born to be!  So let this be a warning to anybody who is stupid enough to stand in his way...



[Paul Heyman]
My client BROCK LESNAR will not show you sympathy!  He will not show you any ounce of remorse!  If you stand between Brock and the success he is destined to achieve you will be hurt... you will be maimed... and you WILL... BE CONQUERED!



As Brock's music hits once again, the evil smirk on Paul Heyman returns.  Brock stares into the camera with malicious intent.  It's obvious from the look in his eyes that the monster inside him has been re-awoken here tonight.

[Jim Ross]
Well folks... I have to say that I believe every word that Paul Heyman just said.  Brock looks like a different man compared to the man we saw a few weeks ago.  When he is focused, Brock has unlimited potential.  He has accomplished everything he has ever set his mind to, and right now, it looks as though his mind is set on conquering XWL.

[Jerry "The King" Lawler]
I wouldn't like to get inside the ring with Brock after this...

[Michael Cole]
The best way I can explain what we just witnessed, is a wild animal backed into a corner being poked with a stick finally fighting back.  Brock has been held back for long enough... he's been degraded... he's been forced to become something he wasn't... and that right there is the "true" Brock Lesnar re-emerging.

[Jerry "The King" Lawler]
And with Paul Heyman at his side, whispering in his ear... well... the future doesn't look bright for anyone on the XWL roster...

The screen focuses first on Heyman cackling to himself, then on to Brock who is still staring with a cold, killer-like stare as the screen fades away to a commercial break...

I wanted to promo but don't want to drop my guys. Thus here I am.











XWL opens up as it does most weeks, with the crowd hyped up for the show to come and the opening theme playing. The camera pans around to catch the faces of fans who all stretch to be seen. The camera eventually falls on the commentary team, who all seem stoked to be calling tonight's performance.

[Michael Cole]
Ladies and gentlemen we'd like to welcome you to yet another Monday night Anarchy! A night full of shocks and surprises!




The titantron lights up as the crowd erupts with boos for the IC champion.

[JBL]
And what a way to start it! The Intercontinental Champion opening the show!

The cameras keep rolling, as does the theme song but no one appears to take the place of Sheamus in the act on stage. Everyone sits confused for a moment before the song dies out.

[Jerry Lawler]
Well that sure was odd. Maybe it was a technical malfunction?

Pyro suddenly explodes from the stage, fire erupting from the entry way as another theme takes over.



[Jerry Lawler]
Oh boy but I sure hope this isn't! I love Kane!

But just like last time, the lights take to a different tint, and the theme rages on. Even the crowd gets into it, cheering for the return of the Big Red Monster, but nothing comes of it as the theme slowly dies out.

[Michael Cole]
That's so we-




Another theme begins to play, the crowd once again cheering, though this time hesitant to pop for the song. If they would have waited just a tad bit longer they would have seen that it would have died out, just like all the others.



The crowd just doesn't respond to the theme being played, commentary confused and silent for a moment as Dean's theme plays on. The titantron slowly dies out, turning to black. Then does the lights. Then the wall feeds. The entire arena is encased in darkness as Michael Cole comes across the feed, only thing able to be heard.

[Michael Cole]
We're not sure whether this is a stunt, or a technical malfunction. But whatever it is we will keep those of you at home updated as we figure ou-



































As though heaven itself was shining through a spotlight drops on the stage as the theme hits revealing a man with his arms stretched out. His wicked grin, signature t-shirt and cocky attitude prove him to be none other than Seth Rollins. The arognace radiating off of him is almost too much to bare as the lights come up, allowing him to begin his stride to the ring.

[JBL]
We should of guessed it was the man himself, Seth Rollins! He's the only one who could have gotten away with that stunt!

[Michael Cole]
Yeah but why is he coming out here? He isn't even competing tonight!

[Jerry Lawler]
Maybe he wants to soak up the attention like usual Cole!

[JBL]
You're just jealous! Jealous that we're in the presence of one of the greatest superstars, of all time!

Seth Rollins ignores the stretched out hands of kids, not even looking at them as he passes by, allowing the crowd to hate him just a tad bit more. He moves to the stairs, climbing them and entering the ring, finding a mic from the ring announcer and having them leave the ring before he takes center stage. He looks around, smile on his face as he begins to speak.

[Seth Rollins]
Most people wouldn't have been able to play four different songs before making their entrance, but I did. Most people, wouldn't be able to walk out here at the beginning of the show, when they aren't competing on it, but I did. Most people, aren't the best damn superstar to ever live, but I am. These are the things people sometimes forget to realize when they look at me now.



[Seth Rollins]
You see, XWL isn't like it was three years ago. I'm not wearing a security vest, waiting to go out through the hoards of morons sitting all around me. No now, I wear a suit. I wear a tie. And now I look like someone who people could see as a world champion. Yet, we have a deranged lunatic walking around with that belt. See, Dean Ambrose isn't me. Neither is Kane, or Hulk Hogan or Sheamus. All of them lack things that I can do. All of them, strive, to be someone like me.

The crowd boos him, realizing this can't be right because most of them came before Seth Rollins ever did.

[Seth Rollins]
Many people can't imagine wrestling without seeing the Big Red Monster. Hell I can't imagine wrestling without Hulkamania! But people try their hardest to imagine wrestling without me in it. See, that's just something I can't get behind. I can get behind why people hate the Authority for abusing their powers, or maybe get behind this idea that Dean's crazy but getting behind disrespect for me? It's just, stupid!

Seth almost laughs into the mic, finding the idea of disrespecting him being absolutely ludacris.

[Seth Rollins]
I mean really! You people can't sit around and not respect me. No one in the back can sit around and not respect me because as I said before and I will say it again, I am the best wrestler on the roster, today. Because without me, there wouldn't be wrestling as you know it. There wouldn't be an industry anymore. There wouldn't be a Hulk Hogan. There wouldn't be a Kane. There wouldn't be a Sheamus.

Seth continues to name them, the crowd asking "What?" in response to each.

[Seth Rollins]
There wouldn't be a Sierra. A Hotel. An India, Echo, Lima, or Delta. Without me, there wouldn't have been a Shield. Without me, you wouldn't have your heroes Dean and Roman clashing at Downpour for the belt. Hell without me, there wouldn't be an Authority!

Seth pauses letting that sink in as his smile fades again, looking around at the jeering crowd who can't tell whether to cheer or boo him.

[Michael Cole]
These are big words from Seth Rollins here.

[JBL]
And he damn well means it!

[Seth Rollins]
See, I can say that, but you guys can't. Because Steph and Hunter know it's true. See I'm not Triple H, because I'm not battling with one of the greatest of all time, Shawn Michaels in this ring each and every week. I'm not him because to me, Shawn Michael is just another chump on the shelf waiting to eat a Curb Stomp to end his day. Let me ask you how I'm not considered the greatest champion of all time?

Seth asks almost to the crowd, but as the crowd chants Dean Ambrose, Seth can't help but shoot them down.

[Seth Rollins]
Who are we considering to be? Is it Dean? Because that's believable. Maybe CM Punk, who hasn't attracted chicks ever in his life so he really needs to change his name. Oh, or maybe, Alberto Del Rio!?

Seth begins to laugh at the idea of Del Rio being the greatest champion ever.

[Seth Rollins]
Maybe he isn't considering we haven't seen him in a few years. Hope the couch is doing you well and you could maybe SEME on the T.V. sometime. See, I'm a new breed kind of flavor, with all the things the old breed lacked. I am the Architect of the Shield. I'm the Man, as Triple H would call me. I am the Next Big Thing. I am the Best in the World, whether it's what I do, or just all the time. I am the Second Coming guys! I am Seth Rollins, and it's about time this company woke up and understood that.

As his smile fades, becoming serious as ever, he drops the mic, extending his arms as the theme starts up again, the crowd booing him heavily as the screen fades out on this.



feedback and what not is always welcome.

Corey Graves: Ladies and Germs, welcome back to Anarchy!

Mauro Ranallo: Up next we’ve got some action from our tag team division! It’s going to be Kevin Owens and Chris Jericho fending off against up and coming contenders-

*Corey rudely interrupts Mauro mid sentence.*

Corey Graves: Shut up, Ranallo. Look at the stage!



*There was a loud “record scratch” sound in the arena, cutting off all of the lights apart from one spotlight pointing to the stage right at the entrance. You can hear the excitement build up in the arena, the fans are left for over thirty seconds guessing who it could be. Could it be The Rock? The Undertaker? Ted DiBiase and his posse? No, it’s..*



Mauro & Corey: Dolph Ziggler?!





*The entrance stage and ramp lights up in bright pink as Dolph Ziggler’s well known theme song blasts through the arena. He confidently struts out to the centre of the stage to a mainly positive reaction. It was a surprise to the fans but any surprise like this is met with cheers. He’s not as energetic as he used to be, he nonchalantly runs his hand through his hair and flicks it outwards. He chews on his gum walking down the ramp as if he never left, turning to the fans just at the ramp who are trying their damnedest to get a high five off of Dolph. He looks to oblige before pulling back his hand and slicking his hair back in classic Showoff fashion. He rolls into the ring snatching a microphone off the steps and paces around the ring. He soaks in the moment for a few seconds until the fans break out in a “Welcome Back!” chant.*



Dolph Ziggler: Wow.. you guys.. wow! All I can say from the bottom of my heart is..

*Dolph puts his index finger on his chin thinking for a moment.*

Dolph Ziggler: Save your little chants for somebody who gives a crap!

*The hero’s welcome of the former World Champion instantly turns sour as they turn to boos, you can see the sly grin coming back onto the face of Dolph.*

Dolph Ziggler: God.. I missed you marks. I know, I know. Some of you probably did miss me. Some of you die hard fans who miss the “golden days” of XWL, when Dashing Cody Rhodes was putting face cream on The Rock, or R-Truth was obsessed with a dead dog named Tomato.. somehow, Truth became World Champion in my time away and that just shows you how far this company has fallen. Now I was sitting at home a couple weeks back, collecting my paycheck. I saw someone tweet me, some mark. He tweeted a GIF to me and it struck a nerve with me. it struck a nerve with me because this fan told me that it was just over 5 years ago that Dolph Ziggler was XWL World Champion..

*There’s a loud mixed reaction to the reminder of Dolph being champion, it was a memory Dolph would never forget, but in his bitter mind it was a moment that was long gone in the minds of XWL fans.*



Dolph Ziggler: It was a lightbulb that went off in my head, it was a record scratch stopping me in my tracks of whatever I was doing in my life. It re-lit a fire in my stomach that made me remember just why I’m as damn good as I am. Now for those of you unaware, I took a sabbatical a while back. I was fed up, I was so damn sick of being so damn underused. I was swept under the rug and I took it, I took my ball and went home. I sorta gave up for a while. I was fed up of being undermined and overlooked so I left. I didn’t quit the company! I just wasn’t doing anything. If the office wanted me to do an appearance or two, sure, I’ll keep my name on the payroll. But something about that tweet set me off.



*You can see the gears turning in Dolph’s head, trying to come up with the words to truly vent his frustration.*

Dolph Ziggler: So I turn on the XWL network, I wanted to familiarise myself with what I wanted to come back to and I see a whole different landscape than the last time I was here. You’ve got fresh faces..  you’ve got guys who I know i’m better than. You’ve got Gargano, Almas, Undisputed Era, you’ve got best bout machines! And you’ve got a lot more freaks than I ever recall seeing.. You’ve also got Dean Ambrose.. my mortal enemy of 5 years ago. Why does he deserve to be on the top when I’m sitting at home? I watched Cyberslam with a pit in my stomach, I watched it feeling sick. Five years ago I was in the main event of Digital Decision, defending my world title. What have I done in the past 5 years that any of you can recall? Nothing. I have a whole new generation I need to prove myself to.



Dolph Ziggler: People join and leave the company, management changes, the fans change, everything changes! One thing that will never ever change in this company is one simple fact that is.. Dolph Ziggler can hang. Dolph Ziggler will always and forever be considered the absolute very bonafide BEST. I don’t care how many stars you’re rated, what your PWI rank is, how many followers on Twitter you have! I’m a man on a mission, I’m a man obsessed. I’m starting from the very bottom and I’m doing it to prove to not you, but myself that I am who I say I am. I don’t need a handout, I don’t need your cheers. All I need is myself and my god given abilities. Just wait and see.. just… wait… and.. see.

*Dolph inhales a deep breath, taking a look out at the sea of people as he exhales. Looking relieved now that he’s gotten everything off of his chest.*

Dolph Ziggler: This isn’t a rebirth, it’s the same old heel. Ziggler? Over.. and out.

*He confidently drops the microphone, signalling the end of his rant. His theme song cues up once more.*

Mauro Ranallo: What an impassioned rant by Mr. Ziggler! You could almost feel his frustration through every pain staking word he uttered.

Corey Graves: I can’t lie, Mauro. I like a showoff. It’s one thing to talk, but Dolph is going to have to prove to each and every one of those paying fans that he’s worth it. 5 years is a long time to be away from the top of the mountain.

*He rolls out of the ring, confidently slicking his hair back with both hands. He has a bit more swagger in his walk now, his confidence is coming back to him by the second. But will his ring skill match his returning confidence?*