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Kendall Savannah Sawyer · (06-22-2014)

“You can say anything if enough people will listen.” - Chuck Palahniuk

Have you ever woken up and realized that you're a twenty-something alcoholic who already could be deemed washed up?

Because I have. I've woken up in that dark place quite a few times between the last time you've seen me set foot in a XWF ring and now. More times than I'm willing to divulge right now or ever and oddly enough it has nothing to do with the spate of losses I hit right before bowing out the door. No, it's an issue that runs a little bit deeper than that. Something I never thought I'd have the strength to admit to a large group of people who aren't also in my shoes but as fate would have it I do right now.

Hi, I'm Kendall and I'm an alcoholic.

Hi, I'm Kendall and I'm the postergirl for wasted potential.

Hi, I'm Kendall and I've rescued myself from my lowest possible point. It's only up from here on out.

Now, some people could very well be wondering how I've summoned the strength to make these declarations in a place like the XWF, where the first thought upon learning the flaws of others is to twist it and pervert it to suit your own ends, to tear the person spilling their soul to bits and pieces to come out ahead. Frankly, most people might be thinking or even saying aloud at this very moment:

Kendall, what the hell are you doing?

Simple, really. I'm being honest.

Honesty being a foreign concept to most of the company and especially the bunch I'm to face in my grand return match; an opportunity some could say I don't even deserve. Seeing as though I did disappear for a short while after my loss to Azrael Erebus for the Universal Championship, I guess I can see where those people are coming from in their deductions but at the same time, I feel as though I'm gliding on air so I can't say I care too much about them. Again, honesty.

Where to start with the parade of lying, hypocritical snakes?

Maybe with their King of Kings.

Ozymandias.

Flash back to my devastating loss to Azrael on Madness, where for a brief moment I thought I won on some magic technicality. And technically yes, I did win the match but the dear General Manager thought it in the best interest for the sanctity of the title to restart the match so that a clear winner could be determined. That, I had no problem with and if I were in his shoes I would've done the same thing. No, where I take offense comes from his reprimandation of me for winning a wrestling match by conventional standards. For reference, allow me to play it back for you.

Quote:OZYMANDIAS: "Now hold on just a minute... This is not what I had in mind when I said we were going to crown a new Universal Champion. The most coveted title in XWF history will not be handed out because of a count out. Not tonight. Not ever. Kendall Sawyer, I should disqualify you from the match just for thinking that I would let you walk out of this arena with a count out victory. Don't worry, I'm not going to do that. Instead, we're gonna pretend like this never happened. Deal? Good. Now, RESTART THE MATCH! And this time, it's X-Treme Rules..."

Did you catch with the added emphasis? Ozymandias, the great GM of Madness, the King of Kings, the hypocritical snake threatens me with disqualification from the match for winning the title off a count out victory. This wouldn't seem to be such a big deal if you forget that the only other person in the match besides Azrael was a basically dead Jon Plex. That's right, Ozymandias would've rather seen a nonfactor take a pinfall to crown the "most coveted title in XWF history". Or since everyone forgot about Plex, he would've been just fine putting the title on Azrael via a disqualification, the other thing titles don't normally change hands on. Now, why would the fair and impartial Ozymandias do such a thing, you might ask. Well, it's all because I'm one of Paul Heyman's clients.

There. Now the truth is revealed. It was never about the count out and if Azrael had done the same thing, he would've been awarded the belt. Because that's how Ozymandias is. That's the culture he breeds and though he isn't rewriting the book around here, his attitude is no doubt rubbing off on others. The most prolific examples in this match include Arryn Connolly and Frost -- both members of Ozymandias' little Hit Squad, whom he named Madness Unleashed.

More like Madness' cancer. A chemotherapy induced malignant tumor. He's trying to make it seem like he's trying to save his own show but in reality he's the one ripping it at the seams and the worst part is I don't think he realizes it. Connolly and Frost are pawns, trapped forever in this game that'll end in Ozy's surrender.

The name Ozymandias is fitting because it's only a matter of time before this empire, if you can call it that, of his will crumble to the ground; its rotten supports too far gone to hold up its weight. However, that's enough about the "King of Kings" and his pawns, onto the others in this match.

Barney Green isn't trying. That's it, that's what's happening here. He's made it abundantly clear that he isn't trying and frankly I don't blame him because at least this way when he fails he can rationalize it with "it's okay, I didn't try!'

Morbid Angel is utterly delusional. He thinks he's never lost when I can pull up records of his failures and show that as of late, those failures have really piled up and have completely eclipsed his odd successes. However, the gem of his insolence comes from his promo, wherein when speaking of me he brings up the most asininely awesome offense against me, almost as if to get under my skin if he were ever capable of doing that to anyone with half a sliver of intellect. It's been a while since I've really responded at length to the words of one of my opponents, so forgive me if I'm just a little bit rusty in the art. I promise I won't deliver an IQ dropping flop of a performance, which is more than I can say about Angel himself.

First he starts by mispronouncing my name by adding a random -s at the end of it. Either cruise control for the edgy, "I could care less" attitude or just his own obliviousness and uselessness manifesting in an obvious way. Then he goes on to say that I have about just as much relevance to the XWF as some random soap opera. So... ? What, is your life so utterly pathetic that you live and die by the goings on around the XWF? And is that somehow a good thing in your demented little head? That's the only way something so mindnumbingly idiotic could sound like a good insult; if it's spoken by someone with special needs. What's next, are you going to insult a construction worker for not building something every second of the day?

Then he claims that this supposed connection I have with Jessie Diaz of all people is so fucking original (end obvious sarcasm) when he's either seeing things or spending too much time with Swagmire Swaggins, who's completely and utterly convinced that I'm some wannabe of the psycho.

Also, hope people like me? How dense are you? I think I've made it pretty clear I'm largely apathetic to whether or not I'm cheered or booed.

Oh, and then there's this gaffe: What the fuck have you brought to the XWF? Nothing…

Well, y'know aside from being one of the XWF's major champions within a little over a month of my arrival? Yeah, absolutely nothing. Not like Morbid Angel's who's found five new ways to bury his head in the sand.

Then some out of place vulgarity that if I really wanted people to like me would result in a success so in actuality comes off more as a compliment than an insult in context. Thanks?

And he finishes by claiming I'm only liked because of my appearance. So, in layman's terms typical drivel he could aim at any woman because he's too much of an idiot to think of anything specific to me.

Morbid Angel's delusions are so strong I almost got sucked into them, however if his status as a moron and nigh infinite failures to Griffin MacAlister have shown us anything, it really isn't Victory Forever for him.

More like Ignorance Forever.

And lastly, Eli James.

Oh Eli, how I don't loathe thee. Though you seem to think everyone on the whole world has it out for you I can't say I do because really, what is there to hate? A view on religion that doesn't agree with my own? His nonsensical analogies that don't make as much sense in context as he wants them to?

No, I don't hate Eli James.

I almost envy him, really.

I almost envy the way he can burrow himself so deeply into his little hole of security like a mole and acts like what he says actually makes sense because in his promo for this week he made an analogy that he really didn't think through. You know it; the eighteen year old who works so hard to get this car, only to give it to his brother after said brother gets in a wreck?

Problem. The people you gave your belts (car) to didn't crash and burn beforehand. It was after.

In reality, here's the situation you painted:

Eighteen year old works his ass off to get a car and then gives it to his slacker, idiot brother for a night. Said brother crashes it into a poll or more accurately, trades it to some shady guy in a back alley for a baggie of cocaine. What you described is charity for those who don't deserve charity.

And how gloriously hypocritical is it of Eli to judge people for wanting to take the "easy" way to getting a championship in going for the briefcase when he so gladly gave away his titles? Effectively giving his buddies free rides. Not even easy, free. No effort required, unlike the possible minimal for a briefcase win. As for your little challenge, wanting to earn a shot for the Universal Title, even though it eventually became something of a cop out. While anyone was free to step right up and try, it was obvious where your priorities lay.

In beating up the weak, old, and senile.

And yet, you're the good guy in all of this.

You know, Eli?

I'm ready. I think I'm ready to receive your guidance and go on the path to Enlightenment.

Give me wisdom.

Give me truth.

Give me social critique that you're somehow exempt from.

Give me double standards.

Give me not so cryptic nonsense about puppets and puppeteers to tell us all what we already figured out.

Give me everything, Eli. But most importantly:

Give me a break.

My freedom lies in knowing that you're the exact same type of person that you accuse the GMs of being. Only now, you don't have any power so you can't throw your figurative weight around and that's eating you up on the inside.

My freedom resonates in the blind men that can see through your little act.

And lastly; my freedom is so much sweeter knowing that no matter how much I may screw up in life; I'll never be the walking mass of lies, smoke, and mirrors that you are.

But hate you? No. Never. Not a chance. Hating you is like hating the old man sitting out on his porch in a rocking chair, somewhere in the south, waving his fist and shouting racist slurs. It just isn't worth it. He's a product of his time, his environment; a fossil by today's standards.

Just like you.

If we look back at history, we can see, and I'm going to quote you on this:

"I defeated Neo Nero. I defended my championship."

That was you, at your peak. However, one look at you now proves you aren't that man anymore. Take for example your team being led to victory almost entirely on the shoulders of the Dimallisher and Azrael Erebus? Is this the Eli James of now? Enlisting the help of aliens and mentally disabled to fight his battles? Then vacating the titles like he's been known to do.

Right. It is.

This is the Eli James I'm going to be stepping into the ring with: a broken down old slag heap of a man whittled down by age.

No wonder he challenged the old and frail.

He sees this too and is trying compensate.

Now Eli, I dare you, I beg of you, I implore you:

Give me your best.

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