Tyler Vegas is standing in the ring with the microphone in his hand. He wanders from corner to corner for a minute while the fans start chanting "Vegas Sucks" he looks around with a grin on his face.

Eventually he calls the ring announcer over and makes him get in the ring, he walks up to him and whispers in his ear. The announcer shakes his head as if to say "I can't say that"

Vegas slaps the announcers face and points to his microphone he shouts "Do it you son of a bitch"

The announcer raises the microphone to his mouth and proceeds to announce "Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome to the ring at this time, the one, the only, Master of Mayhem, God of all, better than you, Adonis of the ring and savior of everyone, Tyler Veeeeegas"

Vegas nods his head and smiles in a cocky manner before he begins to speak.

"You know, I've not had the best start to my XWF career. I've came out here and been cheated out of my victories, I've been put in pathetic matches and screwed by referees! Sure, you guys can't tell, but I can. I know when I'm getting screwed and since I first stepped foot in an XWF ring I've been getting screwed. By Referees, by the locker room and by each and every one of you"

The crowd boos and chants of "Vegas Suck" echo throughout the arena, getting louder as they go.

Vegas continues talking.

"I mean, deep down I know it doesn't matter. The GM's have their little 'favourites' backstage and quite frankly that sickens me. The internet community have gone mental saying that 'oh that Tyler Vegas, he isn't anything special is he' or 'do you think Tyler will ever actually be able to win a match' and you know what, I can win matches with my hand tied behind my back. When I first showed up here, I thought I'd try a gimmick, I thought I could build a character and use that to my advantage but screw that, screw gimmicks and screw characters, from now on you're going to get the real me. The wrestler, the man who can walk into any match and leave with his hand held high! I'll do it for me and I'll do it in spite of all of you. Screw each and every one of you! You come here every week and you buy merchandise for guys in the locker room who couldn't even lace my boots. Guys in that locker room who would rather sit and play Angry Birds than make their way down to this ring and be achievers, all of you support that and that makes you no better than them"

The crowd jeers loudly as Tyler Vegas climbs up and sits on the turnbuckle.

"I've got a good mind to sit here, right here on this god damn turnbuckle all night and get a front row seat to every match, every loser wannabe that steps through those ropes tonight should have to see my face whenever they turn this way. I don't even know if I've got a match tonight, and if I do I'll probably be on a 'jobbers' entrance. screw that, why should I go backstage just to come back out here while some vignette is running for someone who doesn't give a damn about this industry, when I can just sit here all night"

Vegas looks directly into the camera.

"I know all you 'officials' are sitting in the back right now, wondering whether I'm kidding around or not, so why not send your security down here and find out. I'm here all night baby, and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop it"