"'Sup, homo. Figure I might as well check in and see what the hell is going on."

"So, I see you won yourself a belt! Yeah, let's go, Black Hand pride and all- oh wait, it's that belt that those mentally inept also known as the mongoloids that appear on opening matches try to get in an attempt to make themselves relevant."

"Well, Sir Redneck, lemme just stop your fun. Now, in no way am I trying to degrade myself to a level such as yours, I'm just trying to rob any and all joy you have, since you and the rest of the Black Hand jumped me from behind and knocked me unconscious. You humiliated me, now I'm going to humiliate you."

"So, is there anything else you've done that could possibly be considered relevant while I was gone?"

"Let's see, looking through here, I see a win over a who probably soils himself to sleep every night, and... that's it. Okay, maybe let's just check what's coming up ahead, maybe you're facing someone releva-"

"Oh."

"You're not."

"And yet, despite this, we're seeing you just prance around like he's on top of the world. Kid, lemme lay it to you straight. You ain't gonna do shit here. Yeah, Federweight Champ. Goodie. But, please, tell me, when has anyone other than the previously mentioned opening carder- mongoloids care about that title? Vinnie Lane? D'Ville? Gator?"

"Alright, yeah, sure, I can give those to ya, but note- they never cared about the title in the end. Gator tried to hand the title to D'Ville when he was napping, which led to D'Ville THROWING THE TITLE DOWN THE TRASH, which led to a fucking hunt for the title, which, I admit, I was a part of, but only to bring some prestige back to the title, but now, thinking back on it, I realize how ill- thought that was. You can't save a title that got thrown down the GODDAMNED TRASH!"

"Then, Lane. Dude held the title for a fairly long time, longer than anyone, in fact. Buuuutttt, are we to forget that Lane was so fed up from the lack of competition that he tried to PIN HIMSELF? Hell, I think he was done with you shitstains from the moment you made your second attempt at the title. That's why he didn't kick out. It was because he didn't want his IQ to drop anymore points that he just gave up. And like I said, the only reason I'm daring to dwell where people like you live is because I'm going to make sure your life becomes a goddamned living hell."

"Unless, of course, you decide to grow a brain and skeedadle before I make my full return, in which case, good for you. Here, 500 dollars, free of charge. What to do with it, you may be wondering? Leave this place, start a new life. You look like you could be a nice circus clown. And then, when that terribly botched stunt gets shown, forgive me for when I watch the flames and laugh."

"Now, git."

Mav shows no respect to Muddy by laying him out with just a hiptoss, then places a boot on his chest as Dick E. slides in for the pin.

1.....






2.............

Mav immediately pushes Muddy away.

"Oh shit, so you're gonna waste your time and energy towards the inevitable, huh? You think you're gonna put up a fight? Well, memorizing everything you've said, well, you confirmed my suspicions about being a nice circus clown. I mean, pretty much everything you said was just a load of shit. It's appalling how much shit you say."

"Reeeally looking like a nice, good ol' trash- talkin' chumpion when you don't even respond to the points I make. Yep, just keep on being that good ol' simpleton. It's really proving... something. Not sure what, but it'll come to me."

"And you're going to go on about me being carried, oh, this is rich. Listen, Hick Nick, only reason I lost to Team Pothead was because of underestimation. That 'qualifying match' they had was hardly a challenge, it was a joke. Curse me for not looking ahead, but whatever. I merely was suffering from underestimation. Oh, wait, is your feeble mind too simple to comprehend the meaning of 'underestimation?' Here, lemme just..."

Mav pulls out a nearby copy of Webster's Dictionary and begins turning the pages.

"Here it is. Underestimate. The definition we're looking for is here, the second one. To think of someone or something as being lower in ability, influence, or value than that person or thing actually is. You see? I didn't think Brick Squad would put up a fight due to their lackluster debut, and I was taken off guard. But that's one flop on me, but who locked in the Pure Perfection on the Lost Homos and ended their reign of faggotry before it even began? Me. Who was the one who could have ended the Tag Team Championship match easily, but then decided to be a team player and let his tag partner get the pin? Oh, right, me."

"You see? It's the exact opposite of me being carried, you backwater hooligan. And 500 words? Muddy, Muddy, Muddy. I even typed my trash talk out before I saw you, and initiated my pin. I ran it through Microsoft Word's word count, and you wanna know what I got? 494 words, Muddy. Six words short of the deadline. You think again before spouting mindless, false facts."

"Ohhh, and you're gonna go on about how my mom's giving blowjobs? Huh? I guess SOMEONE hasn't done their research, as my mother died giving birth to me. A sad thing I must recount, but it is true, and it left my father to take care of me. And I don't know if you noticed, but my real father did take care of me until he passed, and then until I reached 18, I stayed at my aunt's house. From there, I finished up high school and went directly to college, then I got into the indie circuit of wrestling, and then here I am."

"Have a nice day, Hick Nick."

Maverick takes down Muddy with yet another basic move, this time a shoulder tackle, before pinning.

1.......








2..........

Mav sends a roundhouse kick right to the jaw of the Mudster. As Muddy steps back a few paces, clutching his jaw in pain, Maverick speaks.

"Look at you, thinking you just struck some big ol' blow against me. Oh, look out, I'm on spaghetti legs! Wooooaaaaaah!"

Mav purposely wobbles back and forth and looks like he's about to crash onto Muddy. Muddy cowers back, but Mav stops himself as soon as he spotted that.

"Hah. Fucking coward."

"Speaking of cowards, this leads me to my next counter- point. You're going on about how I'm calling you out due to the Black Hand? Well, kinda. I'm just more or less making your life hell because of that. Oh, and you're parading on, being like 'wut about it'. I'll tell ya what about it. You're also saying how the Black Hand won't be purposefully attacking weaklings now that I'm gone. Guess what, you fucking contradicted yourself. Any man would be weak going one on four, yet you people blindsided me. And yet you're just going on and on, just listening to the words going in and out. In and out."

"What else we got here... what, you don't like the nickname I gave you, Hick Nick? Sucks to be you, it fits, that's all that matters. As for the clown bit, I can't speak for others who actually have the common sense to see the only place where you fit in is inside a circus."

"And you go on about why you should care about my family tree. Pffft, please, like you should be the one to go on about family trees. Tell me, Hick Nick, I need to know- does your family tree actually have branches, or is it just one long braid?"

"You're saying I entered a Rumble twice to get the Federweight? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahah-- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh God, the stupidity is just radiating off of you. It's no wonder why you're new name is Hick Nick, it's perfect for you. Yes, I confess I did enter a Rumble for the Federweight, but that was only the Rumble that the Federweight had no owner, AKA, not both the more recent one and the inaugural Rumble. Thus, you fail."

"Now, I'm gonna keep this quick here. Since it's evident you're obviously not going to use the $500 I gave you and start a new life, I realize you have crosses to burn, mayonnaise sandwiches to eat, pro wrestling to train for, etc. As such, lemme just pin you quick and take your pride and joy."

"Now scram."

Mav quickly pulls in Muddy and hits an Age of Perfection then pins.



1............










2.............

After being pinned by Maverick, Muddy damn near falls asleep from listening to that boring ass bitch fest, and figures he'll just lay there and let Maverick win the title he so obviously and desperately wants…
But suddenly! Muddy sees Jesus rockin' a sick ass pair of Angel's wings, waving an American Flag.

He hears Dick E.'s voice in his head…

“KICK OUT YOU PANSY ASS!”

Muddy powers out again!

Winner and STILL Federweight champion: Muddy Waters!