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Wyatt Reynolds · (03-31-2014)

It was undeniably and unequivocally brought to my attention by the Madness Jew in Chief Paul Heyman, that my title reign is in jeopardy. It is not a secret that since my title win, my appearances on Paul Heymans 'baby' have been nil.

There is most definitely a reason for that.

See, Morgan Eldred stepped out, and Wallace Witasick stepped in. With that, he took Madness overseas. Almost as if he was purposely sabotagin' my reign. Purposely keepin' me off the show in order to ensure that I'd be forced to vacate the title.

What many don't know, since this is the first time I've brought it up in public, is that I'm on the no fly list. I can fly domestic, but due to unjustifiable federal restrictions set forth by the tyrannical regime that resides in capitol of these here United States, I'm unable to fly internationally, and I'm unable to fly commercially. If I fly anywhere, I'm forced to hire a charter which comes a great expense to me.

Wallace Witasick was aware of this unfortunate fact. Wallace Witasick was not a fan of yours truly. It's not that I blame Mr. Witasick for his disdain and his dislike of me. For the most part, Mr. Witasick is a fair man. I do know that prior to my arrival here in the Xtreme Wrestlin' Federation, he was the man in charge over on Warfare. I know he liked clean television. He liked moral television. He liked people from all walks of life to be able to tune in on Wednesday nights with their families and watch his show.

Madness on the other hand, was very much the complete opposite. When Witasick took over the managers desk on Madness, he wanted very much to get rid of me, especially as the European Champion. He could not handle the fact that a man like me would be carryin' the flag for his show.

Again, I do not blame Mr. Witasick. Through the eyes of the masses, I am anythin' but a moral man. My personal dislike for much of the world and its various races undoubtedly ticks off a lot of people. I know that. I accept that. Yet, I will never be anythin' other than myself. It is somethin' I was raised to be. Myself. If others don't like me, well, I don't see that as my problem. No, not at all. It's their problem.

With Paul Heymans return to power, at least in some way, on Madness comes the undeniable truth that the Jew and the 'racist' would most certainly not see eye to eye. I'm sure that was expected. Now, I will say that Mr. Heyman has treated me with more respect than Mr. Witasick ever did. That is quite possibly, if not probably, out of fear. Mr. Heyman would not want to meet an untimely demise. He's a Jew, but he's not stupid. His desire for self preservation clearly outweighs his need to be the antagonistic weasel that all of us here in the Xtreme Wrestlin' Federation know him to truly be.

Paul Heyman made it a point to crash my christenin' party this week. It'd been several weeks since I have graced your presence and I wanted nothin' more than to finally have the opportunity to celebrate my title victory with all of you fine white folk out there. I took it upon myself to do that title a necessary justice by renamin' it the Confederate Championship.

Who the fuck gives any mind whatsoever about Europe?

Paul Heyman made it a point, and a valid one, that I've not yet defended this newly named Confederate Championship since the very night I won it. Now, one may raise a valid point that the night I won the title, it had been in jolly old England. That is an indisputable fact.

You may ask yourself how did Wyatt Reynolds get to England if he appears on the United States no-fly list? A very valid question if I may say so myself. The host for that event was the disgustin', slant-eyed Asian fellow by the name of Neonero. He'd chartered his own Boeing 777 to fly the Madness crew overseas.

By the way, that slant eye comment is a shout out to my favorite Senator of these here United States, Mr. John Samuels. Texas never had it so good.

More over to the point here. Mr. Heyman had interrupted my public celebration to inform me that I must defend my title this week or be forced to vacate it. Naturally, I chose the former.

See, Wyatt Reynolds is never one to back down from a challenge. Mr. Heyman and his new boss, which conveniently is also my new boss, see it fit to give this coveted title shot to none other than a newcomer by the name of Axle King. The self proclaimed King of Kings.

I know nothin' about Mr. King other than the fact that he's a white man. At the very least, if by some chance the man gets lucky and manages to defeat me, he'll be a worthy white champion. Of course, we all know, Axle King doesn't have a prayer.

On paper, it's an easy victory for everybody's second favorite resident XWF racist. Yes, I know my place. Mr. Idenhaus has been around a lot longer than I and has garnered himself the distinction of bein' the favorite racist.

That not withstandin', however, competitions do not occur on paper. Whether its a game of football or a wrestlin' match, the competition does not happen on paper. They happen on the grid iron, or in this case, the wrestlin' ring.

Anythin' can happen, and usually does.

Axle King finds himself at the bottom of the mountain, where he belongs bein' a newcomer. Yet, the powers that be on Monday nights have decided he's closer to the top. A lot closer, in fact. With just one XWF match under his belt he finds himself just below the top of Madness Mountain.

On top of said mountain, stands yours truly. Wyatt fuckin' Reynolds. I'm the top of the mountain because of one thing and one thing only. I outsmart my competition at every turn. Just like the legendary hall of famer Roddy Piper always said, as soon as they think they have all the answers, I change the question.

I've watched Mr. King's promo and I cant tell that he is without a doubt, an extremely intelligent man. I respect that fact. This is unquestionably a game changer for ole Wyatt Reynolds. You see, as long as I've been here, I've easily outsmarted owners, general managers, and my competition alike. It is not beyond the realm of possibility that I may not be able to outsmart Mr. King. In fact, for all intents and purposes, I'm goin' into this match Monday night thinkin' exactly that. I won't outsmart him.

So, how do I combat a man I can not outsmart?

Tough question, right?

You could think that. Of course, you would be wrong. For as intelligent as I am, I'm equally tenacious. Equally brutal. I will use my parkin' lot brawl environment to beat the self proclaimed King of Kings into the concrete. I will beat Mr. King to within an inch of his miserable life! So close that he will only wish for me to finish the job and exterminate him completely.

When I defeat the King of Kings, I will by rule, become the King of the King of Kings.

See, it is not an honor or any sort of distinction for Axle King to have to face me. Instead, for Axle King it's a disaster waitin' to happen. Axle King will get schooled and exposed for the rookie that he is. Axle King is just not ready to face the master of the master race!

The King of Kings? That's what you choose to call yourself?

Allow me, Mr. King. Allow me to give you the warm welcome fit for any King within this company. You, like the others, will fail in your quest to defeat the ragin' psychopath that is Wyatt Reynolds!

You, just like the others that have fallen, Mr. King, will proclaim to the world...

In..

Wyatt...

We...

Trust!

Mind you, it need not be a verbal proclamation. Oh no, Axle King, your proclamation of that statement comes in the form of your defeat!

"I will become the undisputed King of the King of Kings, Axle. Then you will proclaim just like so many others... IN WYATT... WE... TRUST!"

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