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~~Grande Ricardo~~ · (11-04-2017)

"Scully, I'm gonna lay some last minute things on you before our match, because you need to know them. Don't take it too badly, you had to know you're gonna lose a battle of words, and then when we meet you'll lose a battle of bopper fists. You're just not up to my level of either. Because I have been training for this my entire life. I was born to a small Dutch famer and his wife in a small village in Roanoke, Virginia. My Dutch farmer father worked as a school teacher in Bangladesh, India to pay for my Bopper obsession. I ate, slept, drank, pissed, and yes pooped, Boppers. It wasn't until the out real of world war II that papa had to join the South Jamaican military to fight Saddam Hussein's army. That was the day I learned the truth about Boppers, they were the friends we made along the way. And when that happened, I became a real man, and Bopped James Dean right out of his car. I don't tell you these things to brag about my life, but so that you understand, I am the Bopper King. Because I made myself such.

Sure, most of that story might be a false, I am honestly not sure anymore. But what I am sure of is that I bought and paid to fight Finn Kuhn, and I will be glad to beat you and him at the same time. So, hype yourself up all you want, tell your stories, and take your kid trick or treating, none of it matters. What matters to me is that I want this win more than you do. I spent eleven grand on this match. I trained hard, not really, but I put the effort in that you two deserved. I strapped Mike to my helmet to go for ice cream. I called out other champions, I did my duty here. And you came skating by with some bullshit story about you and some fucking ugly runt of a kid, and you think the fans care about your ugly gelato child? Or your washed up soap dispenser of a wife? Let me be perfectly clear here, I don't know if they do or not. I don't, though. I don't care about your family, or your adventures outside of the ring. What I care about is what you bring to the table here.

You know what you bring to the match? Nothing of any importance. You're literally just a warm up for me, until I get my gloves and teeth on DA James. You're a warm up for a guy who's currently engaged in a social media feud with Jenny Myst, the least entertaining and engaging woman on the roster. You're warm up to what can only be expected to be a Twitter feud for me. Think that over, mull it deep down in your bed tonight while you get some sleep and prepare for tomorrow. You're less engaging than the idea of another rookie who thinks he's Kanye. You are less of a threat to me than Drezdin was, and he's the Michael Keaton of the XWF. Do you know what that makes you? The fucking Joel Schumacher of the XWF. That's right, the best you can hope for is to be mentioned next to Kevin Spacey right now, because at least that will give your name some level of credibility. Which I realize is a foreign concept to you, but don't worry, it won't last long. No one will ever take you seriously or love you. Jesus, you're the guy who needed help to beat Darren Dangerous. You're not even worth me making another joke about there.

Do you know why I talk about the ridiculous things I do? Boredom. I am bored, already. I have had a small handful of matches in this company, I have already won a belt, and defended it. And you know what? I've found that the cast majority of people here are just boring caricatures of what they think wrestlers should be. Look at you, Scully. You think you should be a tough talking, borderline threatening sounding piece of meat with no brain, and then be the perfect family man and the kindest gentlest fawn in the forest, and hope nobody calls you on it, because you're a family man. You're fucking wrong. You're either lying when you're with your friends and family, or you're lying to the fans and talent here. And you know fucking what? I don't give a shit which one it is. It's insulting g and degrading, and it's boring. No one wants to see a dad play tough guy with his coworkers only to get treated like a joke by his wife. No one wants to see you stumble through your trash talk trying to find a believable balance between stupid add not, and then be mostly coherent with your kid. Nobody's buying either of those things.

But you know what we are buying? That you're a fraud, just like Finn. And that's why Finn hasn't said a fucking thing all week. He's hiding out because he knows he doesn't have a goddamn chance of matching wits with me. He knows he'd be called out on his overly generic backstory and bland mic skills, and that I'd make what Cadryn said to him look nice. Because Cadryn held back, probably because he's a nice guy. I don't really know him, but he seems like a reasonable person who could use a friend right now. That's not the point. The point is that neither of you are nearly up to the level you want us to believe you are. And that's a fucking shame. I'll muck around with you losers for a bit before I decide that strapping a lizard to my head and having stupid cartoonist bouts with 90's nostalgia toys isn't enough to hide the boredom I get from dealing with you. Then I'll aim higher.

Are you fucking satisfied? You got me to act slightly serious and break the illusion. Of course you have to wonder how much of this is serious and sincere, and how much is just me rambling because I had to watch Mathew Broderick in Godzilla, and I'm feisty, but the thing is that it doesn't matter what motives I've got, or the level of sincerity here. What matters is that I'm right, and that you're powerless to change those facts. You can't even change yourself to actually sound like the same person in your promos. You need me to elevate you, and force you to better yourselves. You two scrubs are so fucking low that I had to get a fucking excavator and dig for a month to get to your low ass level. You're such a waste that Vincent actually had to triple check that you weren't retired or fired, Scully. And he had to make sure that Finn wasn't dead from being attacked by a little girl. Do you get the point? I did both of you a favor by taking this match. People actually will care about you for once. And after this? You'll both be footnotes in my record, and nothing more. At some point someone will ask, why did Grande Ricardo decide to go for the Universal Title, and subsequently destroy Robbie Bourbon, or whatever poor unfortunate soul that's holding the belt at the time? And the answer will be simple, because he got bored of repeatedly owning Scully and Finn. He wanted to make sure that they never could look him in the eyes from the other side of the ring again. And then he wanted to fuck Scully's mom in Scully's need, just to make it worse. And everyone will know I did all of those things. Because I can, and you're powerless to stop me. So go, sleep. In the morning kiss your kid on the forehead, and tell him that he'll never have to grow up to be like you, because as long as he can tie his own shoes, he'll be your superior. You fucking sock monkey."

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