There's simply blackness. Nothingness. Until a voice can be heard amongst the silent winds.
“Wow, Morbid Angel. You really don't have anything better to do, do you? You're happy with camera men following you around so you can cut shoot after shoot at me. A man desperate for attention. A man desperate to have all of the eyes on him. How many people are actually watching these desperate shoots of yours though dear boy because I can't think of anyone who would show the slightest bit of interest in the dribble that comes out of your foul mouth. You can claim me to be the fraud of crazy. The fraud of insanity. Claim what you like. The great Timothy Radcliffe once said: 'Claiming that you have got the truth wrapped up does breed violence and intolerance.' You can claim to have all of the truths that you like SON. All that these lies shall lead to is the birth of a violent monster that you do not want to be in a ring with. We all make mistakes, but it takes a great and honest man to come forth with the truth. You see Morbid Angel, you're wrapped up in your lies and your desperation for attention that you actually are crazy. Crazy, deluded. You continue to claim false wins but one day you'll accept defeat. Warfare, you'll have no other option unless you want to die screaming...”
A fire flickers, the silhouette of the psycho sensation emerges amongst the blackness. He is in his wrestling attire, a cut down his chest oozes thick red evilness. He grins and takes a dab of the blood and licks it. He winks at the camera, but an insinuation can be made that this is more specifically aimed at this week's opponent.
“I ask myself every day, why does this world have so many injustices. Then I look at you Morbid Angel and it makes me realise, that people like you are what fills this world with impurity. There is no god, even if anyone would like to believe there is. No god would create a world that is hell such as this one. Angel, continue to make jokes about how you could be a good, it's laughable and pathetic. You walk this world making a fool of yourself with Steve Sayors on the icy waters and you expect me to think better of you. Do you really think that makes you a better person? Do you really think it matters to me what you do? What matters to me is the words that are uttered from those lips. I do not care where you say them and how you do it. Lies breed lies and it seems that perhaps you are just that, a lie. You're certainly breeding them like no other. You think that all is said and done? You think I am hiding? Cowering? From you? I do not sit between these walls out of fear, I sit between these walls out of intelligence. No man seeks to hurt Morbid Angel because he is worth nothing. YOU are worth nothing. This...”
Steve raises the Xtreme title and strokes it perversely, he stares down the camera lens and lowers the belt once more.
“This makes me a target, every single second of every single day I could be attacked and assaulted. That's why I do not fear you Morbid Angel, I must fear everything and everyone. The candle flickers in a bizarre way and I react. I am puzzled by you though, I will give you that. You think that being crazy is a good thing? You think being crazy is a compliment? It is nothing of the sort. I do not choose to be like this, this is just me. You though, you seem lost in a fantasy world where imaginary things happen, you claim you remember Mr Supernova pinning me. How foolish of you? I mean were you at the ring? Did you watch the show? Mr Supernova did nothing of the sort. Indeed he defeated me and Tony Santos with the King by his side and I do not claim any different. Yet, Santos was the man who took the burden of being pinned and he did so because he is weak. A weak man who relies on wit. Wit does not win you matches. Skill, strength and speed. You being crazy won't win you that match, all it means is that your mind is unlikely to be in the right place, though when has it? Continue to have Steve Sayors and a camera crew following you at every turn though Morbid Angel, you need all the air time you can get because right now no one gives a fuck about who you are. You want the crown so badly then I suggest you step up and do something about it. Don't whine and bicker about me not giving you a title match when you're the fucking idiot who asked it to be non-title. It's too little, too late. If by some sort of miracle you DO manage to pull off a win against me, not that it is at all likely, I will defend my title against you in 2 weeks on Monday Night Madness. How's that for a just champion? I will do what is right by this belt, and I will defend it against Tri Bute next week, and I will defend it against you the week after that, and the next person the week after that and I will hold this belt until I am rotting six feet under or until the end of time. My life and safety don't matter to me any more. What matters to me is proving to the thousands of people who make this career possible by coming and seeing us fight every week that I am a man worth believing in. A man worth cheering for. I don't need appreciation but they deserve ours. Do you think we would be here without them? This federation is sacred. That is not an understatement. You're proud of defeating John Black? You're proud of beating Caliban? How desperate are you to cling on to any worthless achievement you can find? Do you think that means anything? All of the matches that have meant something you have ultimately done what you always do and that is you have failed.”
Davids smirks once more, he stands and begins to pace back and forwards.
“I want to quickly send a message to all of the stables that plague this federation... This war shall rage on for weeks, months and possibly even years. I know that I shall be a part of it, fighting for who, now that's a different question. You see, these men fight very different causes and it takes incredible judgement to decide which one is correct. Ultimately, the Black Circle is the one place I do not belong. Sebastian Duke was a man of honour and a man I could trust but that's the exact problem. Sebastian Duke WAS a man of honour and a man I could trust. Now what? Now he's just a part of the most corrupt stable that the XWF has ever seen. A stable that has been handed glory on a plate. Duke's back with them for one reason and one reason only, to win the war for them. Do you really think they stand a chance on their own? I highly doubt it. Two great fighters cannot match the armies and Eli James are gathering...
You know everyone should be desperate to get me to fight with them to fight for them. I am the man who will bring everyone home. I can still get every thing back to normality. This is not the ending for those who simple believe, in me. Morbid Angel, what you don't understand is...”
He sits back down and now has a sad smile on his face.
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