"But Steele still has ahold of Swift Ion and he lifts him to his shoulders. Steele holds Ion in the air for just a second and slams him to the outside of the ring."

And with that, Shawn Steele was victorious in his XWF debut. It was clear who the dominant force was from the moment the bell rang. While he may not have gotten his chance to showcase his pension for hurting people, Shawn Steele did manage to showcase his unmatched size, strength and skill.

Next up, Monday Night Madness on July Eighth. In London, England. Shawn Steele steps into the ring with John Austin. The self proclaimed ‘Best in the World'. No doubt a step up in competition from the likes of Swift Ion. The man who in less than two weeks step into a Six Pack Challenge for the XWF European Championship. And the man who, if you subscribe to possession being nine tenths of the law, is the XWF Xtreme Champion.

When Shawn Steele racks up his second victory in the X-treme Wrestling Federation, it's going to force Paul Heyman, and everyone else, to take a step back and realize the real living monster they have on their hands.

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..:: June 24th, 2013 ::..
..:: Montreal, Quebec, Canada ::..

As the picture slowly begins to fade back to life, we see a freshly victorious Shawn Steele sitting backstage in the locker room of the Bell Centre in Montreal. Sweat is dripping off of his body as he sits slumped over in a steel chair, white towel draped over his head.

Shawn Steele: After tonight, I had intentions of calling out Swift Ion for the injustice that he perpetrated tonight. I had actually convinced myself that this Battle Royal wasn't all bad. After all, I was going to be able to go one on one with “The Tornado" Andrew Morrison after we dispatched all of the other morons in that ring. And we did. Until Swift Ion managed to get one over on Morrison. So, I was going to do the XWF a favor and get rid of Ion once and for all. But it looks like someone beat me to it. Hell, it looks like the entire roster beat me to it. So instead of facing Swift Ion ..

The towel goes flying as Shawn rips it from his head before leaning back in his chair.

Shawn Steele: I've got John Austin. I don't know who John Austin is, and I really don't care. I don't care who's stepping into that ring with me. After tonight, I'm not playing around anymore. I am going to demolish each and every single man, or woman, whom Paul Heyman sees fit to put across from me. And unfortunately for you, Mr. Austin, that's you.

What I'm going to do to you in London on Madness, it's nothing personal. It's just business. And entertainment. Because I'm going to enjoy it. I'll see you there.

Shawn tosses his towel over the camera before the scene fades out.

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..:: June 29th, 2013 ::..
..:: Los Angeles, California ::..

As we fade back up we find ourselves in a hallway backstage at The Staples Center. Various XWF superstars and crew workers are seen milling about before we focus in on Shawn Steele sitting on top of a large travel crate while watching the live Wild Card Weekend pay per view on a television monitor. The camera angle moves down to the monitor just in time to see Steve Davids knock out Crimson Cobra and win the XWF X-Treme Championship. The camera moves back to Shawn's face just in time to see his lips curl into a slight smile as he begins to nod his head slowly, seemingly impressed by the performance of the new Champion. Suddenly his expression changes due to whatever is happening on the monitor, as faint voices are heard coming from the monitor.

John Austin: "I'm the true winner! You didn't beat me tonight, Davids! I'm taking this thing with me."

Jim Ross: "That son of a bitch. Did he really just steal Steve Davids' championship?"

Shawn drops his head and exhales loudly before shaking his head slowly. Suddenly he lurches off of the crate and reaches forward, grabbing the monitor and throws it against the brick wall where it shatters. Quickly, he turns back to the camera.

Shawn Steele: Really? This is what you've reduced me to Heyman? You've got me facing a common thief?! Who the hell is John Austin? He can't even win a match so he resorts to stealing a championship? A championship he clearly did not earn? A match he clearly was unfit for? I don't know what you're thinking Heyman. But this decision, this flawed decision, is going to cost John Austin dearly. Don't come crying to me when Austin is on the shelf.

Glaring into the camera for just a moment, Shawn turns on his heels and begins walking down the hallway away from the camera as the scene begins to fade.

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..:: July 2nd, 2013 ::..
..:: Portland, Oregon ::..



As the scene comes back to life for the third time, we're outside of The Portland Plaza in Portland, Oregon. The home of Shawn Steele. Quickly we move from the outside of the condo building to inside of the actual one bedroom apartment belonging to the XWF superstar. More specifically the kitchen, where a shirtless Shawn Steele is busy pouring various products into a blender. His back remains to the camera as he reaches into a cupboard above the refrigerator, pulling out a large container of protein powder.

Shawn Steele: Seeing that John Austin was so kind as to invite the people into his home, I thought I'd do the same. Sad to say, you won't get any random pigs walking around here. Unless you count the family members of Jonathon Cross. You never know.

After pouring the scoop of protein powder into the blender, he puts on the cover and presses a button on the base just before it whirls to life, the sound of the blender drowning out all else. Turning away from the machine, Shawn puts the container back in the cupboard before turning back to turn off the blender. He begins to talk while pulling down a large glass cup and pour his shake into it.

Shawn Steele: So, Mr. Austin, I see that you don't seem to understand who I am. That doesn't bother me. What does bother me, Johnny, is the fact that you're an arrogant little prick. Just like the rest of them. To say that you know nothing about me implies that you haven't even attempted to do a little bit of research. There's plenty of information about me floating around. But you're such an arrogant fool that you can't even spare a moment to find out who you're going to step into the ring with on Monday night. The mere fact that you would even compare me to the likes of Steve Davids proves my point.

Putting the blender in the sink, Shawn takes a large drink from his cup before he sets it back down on the counter and turns to face the camera.

Shawn Steele: Going to send me packing? Back .. here? Yeah, why don't you try to send me anywhere, Austin. You're going to come to find out, just like everyone in the Battle Royal found out, that I'm not exactly the easiest guy to impose your will upon. And that's where we differ. Because compared to me, you're a nothing. A nobody. You're going to make sure that after Monday night in London, you'll never be associated with the likes of me? You say that this match is going to be a cake walk? Well, then again, you also called yourself a fighting champion. And, last I checked, you're not a champion. Delusional? Yes. Champion? No. A Champion ever? Not a chance in hell.

Grabbing his drink, Shawn moves around the island that separates the kitchen from the general living area. Moving through the area he unlocks the door to move out onto his balcony, the camera crew moving with him, taking time to get a view of Mt. Hood in the distance.



Shawn Steele: So you're going to give me a lesson on Monday night? You think I'm going to step into the ring with you and I'm going to cower to the greatness that is John Austin? See, told you this kid is delusional. There is nothing great about you, Austin. You get title shot after title shot, I’ll give you that. But you lose. Loss after loss. And yet, still you get rewarded with title matches. Why? Maybe you did what you told me to do. Maybe you got on your knees and you thanked 'the man in the sky’ for everything that he’s given you. And, in this case, I’m going to assume that 'the man in the sky’ is Paul Heyman. Because, honestly, that's the only explanation that I can come up with for why you're constantly being handed all of these opportunities on a golden fucking platter. But that all comes to an end this Monday night. Because your title shot at Leap of Faith for the XWF European Championship .. it's not going to happen. Let me rephrase. The match will happen. But you won't be in it. Instead, you're still going to be laid up in a London hospital recovering from the trauma that you suffer at Madness. But don't worry, I hear they have fantastic health care in England.

Moving back inside, Shawn grabs the remote to his big screen television before again moving around the island and into the kitchen, pressing a button on the remote before setting it on the counter top. As the television comes to life, it's frozen on a still shot of John Austin sitting cross legged on a dirty concrete floor.

Shawn Steele: Yeah I've seen what you've had to see John. And I can understand how you're grasping at straws because I really haven't addressed you to this point. But I just don't the time, or the patience, to correct all of your outlandish claims about me. But I just have to bring up this one thing. You say that at Wild Card, you embarrassed ‘the piece of shit' Steve Davids. Well, if by embarrassed you mean “allowed to defeat me and win a championship", then yes, you did embarrass him. For the rest of the world, we call that a loss. Just like a little later on when you talked about some jackass I've never heard of, Nightmare. You claim you took his ass to the limit, but yet again, you lost. Like you apparently always do. Maybe that's why you're confused about my record. I'll admit that it's just one match, but I walked out the victor. You apparently continue to walk out a loser. And a whiny little bitch who can't get the job done on his own merits.

Pausing for a moment, Shawn takes another drink from his cup before setting it back down on the counter.

Shawn Steele: I can understand that you're either too dumb, or too lazy to actually bother doing any research, but you've clearly got me mistaken for someone else. I'm not trying to scare you. I'm not trying to intimidate you. I'm not here to tell you that I'm going to whip your ass. What I am here to tell you, Johnny, is that come Monday night on Madness, you're in for the fight of your life. Congratulations, you've figured out that I enjoy hurting people. That I enjoy inflicting damage. You've finally gotten one right. But let me ask you a question. What are you in this business for, if not to hurt people? The money? Well take a look around, I don't need the money. The fame? Who gives a fuck about the fame?! This business, at it's core, is competition. The competition of climbing into that ring and demolishing your opponent. That's what I'm here for John. I'm not here to be the ‘alpha male'. I'll leave that egotrip shit to guys like you. Guys who need to tell the world how big and bad they are because when it comes right down to it, they can't cut it in the ring.They like to call themselves ‘the alpha male’. And ‘The Best Wrestler Alive'. And ‘the king of wrestling'. Am I missing any of your cute little nicknames? Who knows, maybe you'll come up with a couple of new ones before Monday night. It's a long flight to London, I'm sure you can jot down a few ideas.

Reaching up to grab the remote again, he clicks another button to thrust the television back into darkness.

Shawn Steele: Though I did notice that, out of the kindness of your heart I'm sure, you've repeatedly told me that you'll allow me to just back out of this match and not even show up. How nice of you. Telling me that it's not too late for me. I can still bow out. Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it is too late. It's too late for you. It's too late because there is no backing out. You've talked yourself into a corner. You've run your mouth for a week now, and it's going to come back to bite you in the ass because I'll be there on Monday night. I'll be standing across the ring from you on Madness. And there will be no escape. You said it yourself, you've defeated guys who don't matter in this business. In your own way, you manage to admit that you've done nothing .. NOTHING! .. in this business. But where you're wrong .. one of many places where you're wrong, is by lumping me in with the rest of the losers that you've faced. They aren't me. You aren't me. And on Monday night, London England, Madness .. the dawning of The New Age continues. Enjoy it.

Turning away from the camera, Shawn grabs his cup off the counter and begins to take another drink as the scene slowly begins to fade.

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