“It’s hard to be me sometimes.”

The slight, sarcastic chuckle comes from Centurion as the scene opens up inside Centurion’s luxury cabin in the Poconos. There, we see Centurion sitting in a chair next to a fireplace with a glass of scotch in his hand. He is slouched back in the chair, and he rattles the ice around inside the glass as he examines his drink.

“I’m being overly dramatic, of course. Despite the many bumps in the road that I have taken in my life, things are going pretty well right now. Great girlfriend. A lovely, quiet house. Anarchy Champion, with the chance of becoming X-Treme Champion in only a few days time. My career has been jumpstarted, I feel physically as good as I have in years, and things are just…well, they’re looking up.

But it doesn’t mean I don’t have difficult situations that I have to navigate.”

Centurion takes a sip of his scotch.

“For instance, I fight a brutal pay per view match against a man who has held the Anarchy Title for over a hundred days. Immediately after, I find out I will be wrestling someone with a lot of prestige in this industry for the X-Treme Title in a match I’m sure will be full of blood and gadgets. And yet, in between those two massive encounters, I have to wrestle…

…Reggie Estrada?”

Centurion’s face curls in disgust before taking another sip of his scotch.

“Now, I’ve talked about “let down matches” before. Matches where someone higher up in the company has a chance to get beat because they’re so focused on their next opponent that they completely overlook the one that’s in the ring with them. This usually happens with new wrestlers who walk through the door - the veteran doesn’t take the rookie seriously, sleeps on the idea of the kid being any good, and gets shocked. Happens all the time. Hell, happens to ME all the time. I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I’ve beaten every opponent that I “should have beaten” in my career. It’s very possible that I lose a match that I’m a heavy favorite in if I don’t give my opponent enough respect.

But that has to do with rookie talent, or talent that is good and has caught a few bad breaks. This…this is Reggie Estrada we’re talking about here.

Reggie Estrada isn’t some great wrestler looking to break out. He’s a gnat in the XWF. He’s annoying, but he refuses to go away. Does he ever do any damage? No, not really. Couple of title runs here and there. He had a decent month in January of 2022. Outside of that, though?

Nothing. Not a single thing. The dude hasn’t improved in ten years. The only thing interesting about the guy was the mask, and since he shed that and the “Wrestler82” nickname, he’s been just a…

…a guy.”

Centurion shakes his head as he takes another sip of his scotch. This time, he sets the glass back down on the table next to him before standing up and facing the fire.

“And there lies the biggest flaw in Reggie Estrada - he does nothing to set himself apart from anyone else. If Reggie were to leave the XWF all together, would we notice? If he were to join another company, would THEY notice?”

Centurion grabs a piece of wood sitting next to the fireplace and tosses it into the fire before turning around, his back to the fire and facing the camera.

“Why should I care about you, Reggie? Why should ANYONE care about you? I know you might not think that’s important - that you “let your wrestling do the talking” or whatever it is you’re going to say, but it’s simply not true. In this business, who you are is as important as what you’re able to do in the ring. Look around the world of professional wrestling. How many people do you see contending for title shots simply for their personality? You need to be able to draw money in order to be important to any of these companies.

And I hate to say it…but no one’s buying a ticket to see Reggie Estrada.”

Centurion walks forward into the center of the room.

“And all of that could be forgiven if you had any semblance of in ring skills. If you had a talent that couldn’t be ignored, then maybe - MAYBE - you could be relevant in this company. But you don’t. You’re not any good. You’re the third best member of the THUGS, and that’s taking into account the fact that one of them might be dead. And you know who agrees with me? The XWF.”

Centurion reaches a table in the center of the room, which has the XWF Anarchy Title sitting on it. Centurion pats the top of the title before leaning on the table.

“If Jeff Stirling or whatever the fuck that guy’s name is believe at all in you and your abilities, this match would be for the Anarchy Title. There are currently no challengers for the belt. It would be easy enough to just slip you into the title scene. And yet, if you somehow beat me, you don’t walk away with the title. You have to ask yourself why that is, Reggie.

Oh, and one last thing - while you may be sitting there, reminiscing about the days when Anarchy was run by Tommy Wish, John Black, Oz, and a variety of other barely competent wrestlers, I have bigger plans for this brand, and in order to build it, I have to get rid of the folks who don’t hold their weight around here. You’re next on the copping block, Reggie. Be ready to meet your…