@earthchildwade
It's like this second rate Bond villain doesn't know anything about wrestling. You've never been too keen on the story, which is probably why it took you two years of twiddling the midcard with the likes of Kyle Kemp before you were even able to sniff the World Championship. Even then, it had been tainted by lesser talent who would have never known it if better men hadn't already walked away out of sheer boredom. A lack of competition, if you will.
That's when the hyenas march in. The Singhs. The Warwicks. The Rabids.
We're in a time where Adam Young is actually winning championships based on merit and not some cruel joke orchestrated by yours truly. Let that sink in for a moment.
You can list "shortcomings" all day, but let's face facts.
PPV sells are down.
Merchandise is a fucking joke.
The arena was literally empty last week for fucks sake.
These are all things that can't be ignored. These Twitter jabs I'm sending your way are the most interesting thing to happen around here since I lost to a Megalodon in the King of the Deathmatch Tournament. Let that fucking sink in for a moment.
And as you sit there on your faux tiger hide chair anxiously awaiting my reply, you know deep down in your shitty, black heart that this is all your fault.
I carried you for a long time Rabid, but I had to take the backpack off. The reigns had to be cut. I had to let you soar on your own.
But snakes can't fly and you're showing the world your true colors. You just can't handle this shit.
Now hand me my World Championship back and I won't have to punch your head off your shoulders.
I won't HAVE to, but I still will because I can.