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AerialKnight · **12-27-2014, 01:04 AM**

"I never knew that one person was so stupid that they needed notes to memorize an entire promo. Hell, I didn't think anyone would still be in high school in this federation. What grade is Gator stuck on again? 23rd? Well he couldn't have graduated, it's probably written in Cornell format, and nobody uses that shit past high school. Even worse is how the notes are mostly wrong. I'd talk about them in detail, but here's a picture of an unmasked Deadpool to prove that Gator can't scar me as much as this guy did."

We fade in on Knight holding a short-sword, which is pointed straight at the ceiling of the dimly lit room he stands in. The sword reflects the light shone by the Cambot, shining it back at the little machine, much to the displeasure of the viewer's eyes. Johnathan has his eyes closed and has his head pointed at the very same ceiling his sword is. If one looks close enough at the the wall in the background, they would be able to see the head of an alligator mounted to it, showing that he either killed one not too long ago, or he simply bought one from a taxidermy shop not too far away from his current location. He's also mouthing some sort of Gregorian chant that can't be picked up by the Cambot or any normal human ears. Not even the editors could really pick it up because it's in a language they can't speak and he's mouthing the chant at a barely inaudible level.

After finishing the chant that couldn't be heard by the viewers anyways, he turns the sword around so it's pointed towards the ground. He opens his eyes for the first time in the promo. There's malice in those eyes, directed towards those watching, primarily his opponents on Monday. The sword is then jammed into the ground just beside the knight's feet.

"It's all just a game to you, isn't it, Jacob? It must be if you're treating opponents as nothing more than pawns in an endless game where nobody can win. You plan the moves, move the pieces, and then knock 'em all down once the game gets too boring for you, right? That sounds like something you'd do anyways, slimy reptile. Congrats, you got a rise out of me. You want this belt just because I somehow proved my idiocy by saying you keep going on about how you're a highly skilled wrestler and we're merely just bait in the pond or wherever the fuck alligators reside? Keep on repeating that, by the way, that shit never corrodes."

"Yet, I know that I can't waste all my time on you. Bobby the snowflake has spoken again, and I have to make him feel special by answering his response to me on national television. So please excuse me while I take this moment to laugh in the face of Bobby Zi."

Sure enough, Johnathan wastes a full minute bursting out in hysterics at the expense of Bobby. At some points, it sounds like he'd he'd run out of breath and choke on his own laughter before continuing on with his recording. He coughs a few times and stops his unprofessional attitude soon afterwards.

"Here he is talking as if he stands an ounce of a chance against me, even though he knows damn well just who he's up against. He also thinks that this match is an elimination match, which it isn't, it's a one fall match that lasts for fifteen minutes. He wishes it was an elimination match, but he'd take up all those fifteen minutes against Mastermind, leaving me with this belt again. I tend to skip over many of his matches because I know how many of them will go. He'll fight, he'll lose, and not a single fuck will be given when he does. Face it Bobby, you're too busy crushing nobody's dreams that you can even take the time out of your day to realize your own. You want to go after this belt, which has successfully identified the superstars of the future multiple times in a row, but I know that you just aren't ready for the spotlight and the pressures that come with being a champion."

"You might be a member of the Underground, but you aren't even established as one yet. If anything, I'd consider you more of a part timer than a full-fledged member. Everyone else back in that room says you are, but to me, you're just another suck up that's trying to please the big boys in this federation. The monkey hasn't danced enough, and the box is still being wound. Better keep dancing to get to the likes of me, Gator, Lane, or anyone else that are leaps and bounds above you in terms of skill and talent. I say Gator because the fucker has to remind us every time we say his name. Face it, Bobby, you can't win a title legitimately at all in this federation. Hell, you can't even defend it legitimately, you suck that hard. Remember the last time you held a title? You lost it to Maverick. The man who's considered to be the second biggest joke in this federation, next to you. Hey, at least you held a title before it was dumped on, so that's something."

Johnathan leaves the sword where it stands and walks over to the gator's head. He strokes it once before looking back at the camera, not a sign of mischief in his eyes.

"Poor animal. Got hunted down by a couple of young men in Louisiana in the nineteen hundreds after they managed to corner it against a rock wall. It lunged at them only to get a rifle discharged into it's mouth. You know, I'd attribute this to you in a matter of symbolism, but I don't think anyone in that match would be low enough to corner you and take you out like that. Mastermind might, but that's because the fucker's too busy doing fuck all to do anything about it. Zi might, since he's still trying to convince everyone that he totally needs that spotlight guys. Me? No, I'm more sporting than to get you cornered. Not only am I a misogynist, I'm also a man of honor, as my nickname should tell you."

"I have to be honest, I believe that any shred of talent that you had while holding this belt passed onto me once MacClay handed me the belt. And yes, I'm still admitting that MacClay handed me the belt, until I beat you in the ring, that is. Oh I'm sorry, again, you think that I wouldn't have come close to beating you, even though it was a given that I would've won the entire fatal five way if you hadn't thrown me out of the ring like the sore loser you are. How'd that shit taste by the way? Was it worth losing your dignity over? I'd hope so, because the very same man that drilled you into that shit also sent you in the hospital."

"You're a fucking man, I know that a concussion wouldn't have stopped you, I know that you wouldn't cry over a fractured skull. But with your shit filled mouth just spewing more shit than it swallowed, you'd cry once you find out that the Aerial Knight, the man that everyone thought would never hold a championship because everyone else labeled him a disgrace, ends up pinning you on Knightfall. What would daddy say to you then? You wanted fire? You got the breath of a dragon. You wanted a fight filled with desire for this belt until the fifteen minute time limit is up? You'll get a beat down from me like you're trying to steal a homeless man's meal. He might be malnourished, but he'll fight for what should have been rightfully his in the first place."

He smirks.

"Confidence trumps arrogance, Jacob. Much like men can trump over animals. It's not because we're the strongest or most adaptable creatures, but it's because we have the knowledge and the tools necessary to make our way to the top. When you feel like evolving, feel free to climb up the ladder to make your way to the top. But, as you'll find out on Madfare, I'm already there, five steps ahead of your easy going ass."

He drops his smirk and makes his way back to the sword and pulls it out of the ground. He moves back to the head, sword in hand, and looks it dead in the eyes.

"And He shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pits of Hell."

With that, he raises his sword high and slices the head of the alligator clean in half, both pieces falling to the ground with a soft thud.

"Bring your worst, Jacob, just like Tank did. You'll fall just as hard as he did. Cambot."

BEEP BEEP.

"Turn off."

The scene cuts to black.

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