Big Bad Leroy loomed over the comparatively tiny podium as the gathered photographers snapped photos of him. With a smile nearly as wide as his vast back, he fielded questions from a crowd of assembled reporters.

"Leroy, any comment on Bryce's actions at the end of last week's Warfare, sending that army of bodyguards into the ring to assault yourself, KnightMask and Sebastian Duke?"

Big Bad Leroy: I find the actions of Bryce and his bodyguards deplorable. Absolutely, positively deplorable. Yo, pro wrestling 'bout competition, boy, fair play...respect. Even, no, SPECIALLY for y'all juniors--- those who have not accomplished what you have but hope against all the naysayers, all the haters, all the evidence to date, to do so someday. Bryce and his army of thugs showed absolutely no respect. Blast, that, that rogue---- has he thought about the example he's setting?

"But doesn't Knightmask have more experience than you? What do you mean by "junior"?

Big Bad Leroy: Experience, yes. Sadly, much of it is experience losing. But as his senior in accomplishment, if not age, I, too, hope against hope for his success and recovery, as well as that of that poor, confused victim, Sebastian Duke.

"But what does---"

Big Bad Leroy (interrupting): Blast you twice again and thrice, Bryce! Ahhhh.... My bad. My passion got the best of me.... Sometimes, I'm just too intense about injustice.... It's a fault.

"Wasn't it a dangerous move to intervene on behalf of KnightMask, when Bryce's thugs assaulted him?"

Big Bad Leroy: Yes, sir, of course it was. But these muscles didn't come without courage. It's just a part of who I am, sir. I know, I know, everyone's telling me I'm crazy. I mean, why would a million dollar main-eventer jump into harm's way for the sake of a couple of curtain-jerking jobbers like Sebastian Duke and KnightMask. Sure, you could argue that turning the other way and letting Bryce and his minions kill them would, in essence, be doing a society a favor. You could argue I was endangering not only myself, but the XWF---

"The XWF? What does it---"

Big Bad Leroy: Ahem. Without Big Bad Leroy in main events, they'd like have to go back to using--- don't laugh--- Sebastian Duke versus, say, Mark Flynn.... Ha, ha... Yes, I know I said not to, but I can't help it... it would go belly up in short order.

"Wait! You really think, without you---"

Big Bad Leroy: However, I refuse to look at things in such a cold, logical way. Sorry, Rick--- being the man is about more than beating the man--- though we all know I've done more than you or anyone else of that.


"Are you really comparing yourself to Ri---"

Big Bad Leroy: Being the man is being able to see the worth in all people, no matter how small that worth is. Sticking up for those who lack the skills or strength to fight back themselves, for those who will never main event, who will never be fan favorites, never have beautiful starlets beg for autographs and then offer themselves on the spot--- thank, you, Khole, Kim, Kourtney, last but not least, Kris, it was divine--- yet show up to the ring every day so they can bask in the shadow of greatness--- those Bryce sees as simpering, insignificant peons with "victim" on their foreheads and "kick me" on their backsides that are too weak to defend themselves is one of my passions. I may be an Atlas, but, with apologies to Ayn Rand, I am not shrugging anytime soon.

"Leroy, what about the body armor? Doesn't it give you an unfair edge over your opponents?"

Big Bad Leroy: Nature gave me an unfair edge over my opponents. Certainly, nobody can hope to rival my power. However, being the consummate egalitarian that I am, I have made the bold choice to level the playing field with my foes. My suit of armor, you see, uses the latest technology to actually bring my strength, speed, endurance and durability down to normal human levels. Thus it forces me to rely on nothing other than my fighting skills and my razor-sharp wit.

"But why does the armor up your entire body from head to toe...?"

Big Bad Leroy: One word: modesty. Ha. ha... Yes, that kind of modesty as well.... Now, it's bad enough that I effortlessly batter my opposition from pillar to post. I would spare them the knowledge that, in defeating them, I do not generally even break a sweat. Also, why embarrass them by inviting direct comparison with my perfectly developed physique, which is such to make even the Greek gods jealous? I have no interest in putting my superiority on such a vulgar display. I rather prefer to let my opponents, maintain their, well, their delusions of adequacy, to be honest. It's kinder for them this way. I gain no pleasure in taunting them with the fact that compared to me, the bodies which they have spent countless hours building up are jello-like, flaccid blobs.

"What about the accusations by various conspiracy theorists that is in fact, not you behind the armor at all, but rather some hired henchman? These accusations say that you are attempting to have others wrestle your matches for you, while you watch from a safe distance."

Big Bad Leroy: I think the absurdity of such attacks speaks for itself. I do applaud you in keeping a straight face while relaying them to me, however.

"Do you have any particular thoughts on your upcoming opponent, Slick Rick...?"

Big Bad Leroy: Certainly, I pity Slick Rick. Given the circumstances of our match, it will be very difficult for me to defeat him without hurting the little fellow too much. I will do my best, however. He has spunk, and I admire that. He rather reminds me of one of Tolkien's hobbits. Small and weak...but nonetheless, admirable in some indescribable way, like the smelly newborn mutt at the pound everyone knows should be put down... Everyone but the mutt. Though I do admit, it is difficult for me to put my finger on it. Let us put it this way: Slick Rick the wrestler has as much chance of beating Big Bad Leroy in a wrestling match as Slick Rick the rapper would have of beating Big Bad Leroy in a freestyling contest.

"But... But... You aren't really saying..."

Big Bad Leroy: Yes. Time has come to put the mutt down.





Sitting up in his hospital bed, KnightMask watched the press conference... and threw up again.