Here's how this is going to work.

You're going to look at me, think "well, I'm not sure what all the fuss is about", and write your standard "I am the greatest fish in the small pond of the greatest federation in the history of the internet, world, wrestling world, MMA arenas, and runon sentences for the win" type of promo, and I'm going to sit here, force my index finger down my throat, and then pop right back out...

...and fucking kill you.

I don't think there's any other way to do it, really. I don't know who the fuck you guys are (outside of some dipshit who mistook our website for his blogspot.org), I don't know what you've done, who you've fucked, why you're bitching about your in-laws. All I know is that the only way for me to get paid is to fuck your shit up, and I plan on getting paid.

Why make it more complicated than that?

You're standing in my way, playing a game I've dominated every fucking time I've tried, and I have no time to fuck around with you. So, write your shitty promos about owning a casino, or being a robot, or sniffing cocaine, or living the life of a superstar wrestler with maybe -- maybe -- five fans, total. Write your trash talk that sounds like it came from an autistic five year old. Send in your segments to the president of the company, have them approved, and rape each other like a bunch of chimps in a field of aphrodisiac bananas. Just remember the fact that I'm going to be sitting here, watching for a week, and then I'm going to literally stick a pistol so far up your ass you're going to be shitting .45 caliber rounds for months.

And then I'm going to fucking kill you.