We're not doing any bullshit today on K-E-W-L 99.6, folks. No fluff pieces, no production team. Today they've invited me on to talk for a moment to all the children and families that listen to the XWF on the radio about something that's dear to me. Something that is so, so, so precious to me.

Today, we're talking about pussy.

I tear it up, it's true. In the ring, in the bedroom, it doesn't matter. I'm on it, in it, and throughout it whenever I get the chance.

I LOVE pussy. That's right, Ned! Oh yeah buddy, I'm talking to you!

That's why I asked Smokin' Bob to put me in your match after I won that little painting contest. I knew it would be a good time. And it was.

But I didn't know you were so lazy in the sack! Just sat back and let me work, huh? Made a night out of watching a real man take care of business? I know you're not used to winning, I bet it was a nice time for you.

Pussy.

See, I always knew you were a coward. A yellow belly. A skinny lil' brunette afraid to walk through those dark alleys all alone. But I got to tell ya man, you're a real son of a bitch for letting Chris Chaos do your momma like that. You let him and his witless goons kidnap your mother and hold her hostage. You didn't do a damn thing! I told you 'Ned! You need to get revenge! We need to go save your mom!'. But you said nah, you weren't about that lifestyle. You didn't want the smoke. You didn't want the conflict. You'd rather let them have your mom than face them on their terms.

Pussy.

You let Chris Chaos and his goons toss your mom down that ramp, breaking her hips and scarring her mind. You let them brutalize her, torture her, all because you were too afraid to stand up to a real big leaguer. You're just a little indy boy. You just want to fly around and have a good time, let your hair blow through the wind and your back slam to the mat. You're not looking for a fight, you're looking for a dance partner. You're an everyday ballerina in that ring, prancing around and showing off for the fans. You don't want to do what men do when they step between those ropes. Notorious Ned? Ol' boy, you're only notorious for thing: letting those goons gangbang your momma and beat your ass, week after week after week.

Pussy.

If someone tried some shit like that with my family, I'd bust their brains open with a bat and take their skull as a souvenir for my mantle. You let those boys have their way with your mom for weeks. WEEKS, Ned. Imagine all the trauma. All the hardship she went through. But she deserved it, though, didn't she? She should've seen this coming. She should've been more careful, more concerned about the consequences of her actions. This all happened to her for one simple reason, Ned: she raised a pussy. And she knows it.

Your mother will never look at you the same way again. Every time she looks into your eyes, all she will see is the empty soul of a coward. Each and every night your mother will relive the memories of the abuse. The pain. The suffering. And every morning, when she awakes from her nightmares, she will blame you. She will blame her son for not being there to save her. She will blame her son for not reporting the crime to the police. She will blame her son for not taking vengeance. But in the end, she should blame herself. After all, it's not your fault. It's not your fault, Ned, that she raised you to be a pussy. A frilly little dancer.

But she won't see that. I'm sorry Ned, but it's true. She will never blame herself the way she should. She will simply blame you. She will look back on the day she learned she was pregnant in agony, regretting that she didn't give you the old coat hanger treatment as soon as she knew! Your mother will never love you again. Not after what you did for her. Or refused to do, I should say!

Pussy.

What's stopping me, Ned? From taking your mom for my own? What's stopping me, Ned? From crawling through your mother's bedroom window and stabbing her guts with my 12 inch blade?

I'll tell you what's stopping me from doing that, Ned, because it's damned sure not you.

The only thing stopping me IS me. I'm a family man. A decent man. A good man!

But you, Ned?

Well, you're not a man at all.

You're just a pussy.

That's why you don't have a chance in hell of taking down the big bad Charlie Nickles when Warfare rolls around. I beat bitches senseless. I smash skulls. I make my foes bleed and squeal like the little piglets they are! And your little frilly shit? Well, that city slicker move set doesn't work the same against the boys from Steubenville. You try that fancy shit from the top rope and you'll end up with a broken neck and a fractured jaw!

Pussy.