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"Exactly what the title of this here promo says. Fuck you, Reeve. I had a chance to vent out my aggression against Pest, but nope, you, the motherfucking , had to wander in here with that piece of crap title, and make like you're going to defend it against me and MY Hart title."

"Well guess what, dumbass? Two accounts say that you shouldn't even have said piece of crap title in the first place- the account of Bruce Blingsteen, who note, pinned you in a match for that Ark title you're defending, along with the account of the General Managers, WHO TOLD BRUCE BLINGSTEEN WHILE HE WAS CELEBRATING THAT THE TITLE WAS VACATED."

"Don't believe me? Let's take a fucking look."

Quote:Kruzifix rushes towards Bruce but with quick reflexes Bruce takes a hit off the vaporizer concealed in his pocket and blows the weed smoke into his opponent’s face, temporarily blinding him! Kruzifix holds his eyes in pain and goes dangerously close to the edge. Hero seizes the opputunity and sprints and goes for a dropkick on Blingsteen but Bruce catches Hero's feet! The God falls on his back but Bruce keeps hold and swings Hero into Kruzifix! He's off the scaffolding and crashes into the tables below!

Bruce keeps swinging Hero and releases him, Hero goes flying off the scaffolding and misses the tables completely and crashes onto the outside in a heap. Bruce quickly realizes what he's done and raises his hands in victory as his music plays and the crowd goes wild!

Winner and NEW Ark of the Convenant Champion: Bruce Blingsteen

Bruce's music is cut short as Matthew Oaktree and Gabrielle House walks onto the ramp. House raises a mic to his mouth.

"Bruce, Bruce! Sorry to interrupt but my good friend and fellow General Manager here thought it would be a funny joke to put the Ark up for grabs. I regret to announce that the Ark is defunct, and has been for a while. I apologize but you are not the new Ark Champion."

"See that, Reeve? You lost. Your so- called 'title' is defunct. You are a fucking waste of space."

"People, mind answering me a question? Has Reeve ever won? Like, anything? As Reeve, as , as whatever fucking name he invented. Has he ever won? At anything?"

"Thought so. This match is a joke. You, Reeve, are a fucking joke. The General Managers are a fucking joke for booking this match."

"Yeah, this is a fucking quick- ass promo, but you probably won't even show anyway, most likely due to sucking too many dicks, hence why I'm barely putting in effort against you. Instead, what I'm going to do, is tell one thing, just one, to the five biggest dumbasses in wrestling today."

"Shane ."

"'Goddess' Sitre Renenant."

"Abigail."

"K- Money."

"And the motherfucking turncoat himself, Vannie Lome."

"Yeah, you five dumbasses are pretty much now on everyone's shit list, mine included. And yes, I realize one of the people I'm talking to is the motherfucking owner of this company, but that doesn't matter."

"What does matter is the fact that you five imbeciles are going to get your motherfucking heads chopped off. Hell, I'll even man the guillotine. You five are going to get slaughtered by the massing XWF forces. Yeah, there are the dumbasses who are trying to go neutral, but you still have the main XWF force who isn't going down without a fight."

"Trax."

"Robbie Bourbon."

"Pest."

"And me, for what it's worth. And I'm sure we'll get more, lots more. You say you're going to rebrand MY Hart title to be a CCWF title? OVER MY DEAD BODY."

"I'm not gonna go down without a fucking fight. Jump me if you want. But damn if I'm giving up my motherfucking pride and joy, the Hart title."

"That's it. Respond to this how you will, but if you're expecting to get another response out of me, you're dead wrong."

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So. . . I think it's easy to tell that you're pissed off.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

The sound of a small, rubber ball bouncing around the walls of Maverick's room inside his mansion can be heard. Back when Maverick was younger, whenever he was in trouble or another thing happened that elicited his anger, he would just grab a rubber ball, and bang it around his walls, which was what he was doing now.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Now, Maverick rarely ever does this, but now, it seems like the recent XWF- CCWF rivalry has brought Mav into a pissed off state, which can be extremely noticeable, due to the force that Maverick is throwing the ball with, the wall creaking ever- so- slightly with each throw.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

This. . . wouldn't happen to be about the whole CCWF shit, is it?

All of a sudden, as the ball was returning to Maverick after his last throw, he caught it, and slowly began crushing the round toy.

Maybe it is. Or maybe, even after capturing my title, I'm still being looked at as a 'lower- class' competitor, still being looked at as a title shitter despite CLEAR FUCKING VIDEO PROOF Crimson Dong shat on the Hart title, or maybe I'm just tired of being coming after my balls with a rusty hook.

Uh. . . what?

Don't just say what! You're a part of my mind, you should know this crap! That Kaleidoscope j0bber or whatever his name is keeps insisting I ducked a challenge from a motherfucking talking table, even though everyone knows tables don't talk! And when I keep calling him out on his bullshit, I get called out by that 'Goddess' whore about the situation! What the hell am I supposed to do?!

Dude, you need to chill out. I didn't know about this since I was trying to analyze the wrestling style of the CCWF, based on your memories from watching the Warfare in which they debuted.

They're a bunch of pussy- ass motherfuckers, that's all you need to know.

I presume you'll be offering a Hart title shot to Mr. Kaleidoscope or Ms. Renenet in order to shut them up?

HELL fucking no. It's not like they even did anything worth noting, other than in the case of the latter, join a group that appears to be invading the XWF, and in the case of the latter, act tough and call people yellow.

Well. . .

Don't you call me yellow too!

No, no, I know you're not a yellow- belly, it's just. . . denying them a Hart title shot certainly won't help your case.

It's because they haven't done anything! At all! If they'd do some shit, then I'd be glad to offer one of them a Hart title match, but I refuse to do so until they rack up a couple of victories!

Fine. Fine. I get it.

. . .

So, worried about Reeve?

No.

Fine, fine, I can see you're not in the mood to talk. I'll be back later, or something.

Yeah. Bye.

A large puff of air escapes Mav's nostrils as he's left alone in his mind as the camera fades to black.