Well, well, well. What do we have here? The Federweight Championship held by someone who must have been drinking a few too many tequilas when he came up with his in ring name. North Korean War Criminal, which would be catchy if we weren't on the verge of being at war with North Korea right now. Whether you know it or not, you are just another pawn on Shane 's chess board, another way for him to make money off of sad current events. You hide behind that mildly interesting persona in hopes to draw attention from the fact that you have no talent what-so-ever when it comes to the ring. It's sad but even Scatbear has more talent than you do.

Now, I kind of feel bad about this, Criminal, I really do. It's obvious that you are barely making it in this company, you have no talent, you have no charisma, you have no fan base... and I judge that because Gladiator obviously doesn't like you and Gladiator is like the redheaded girl sitting at the bar on Saturday nights, he is easy to please, which is just one of the many reasons that he makes me sick... but I digress. This isn't about the horrible staff and their equally horrible decisions. This is about coming out here, right now, and stripping you of the one thing that makes you relevant in this company. I want to take the one life preserver that you have been clutching to. I want to take the one thing that keeps you from fully becoming obsolete.

Don't wet your little panties, it'll be over before you know it. Even now, as I walk down this aisle, I can see the fear in your eyes. You know, deep down, that I don't just talk a big game, I back it up. Don't worry, you aren't alone here. The whole world is watching what is about to happen to you. Let me walk you through what is about to happen. I don't want there to be any surprises here. I'm going to get in the ring and we are more than likely going to grapple for a few minutes. I'll pull off some sort of dirty move and throw you into the turnbuckle, then set you up for The Saint Drop. Now, right about that point, you'll probably be looking for a way for you to keep your dignity and your title. I assure, there will be none.

As soon as you are set up for The Saint Drop, your entire world will come crashing down around you both figurative and literally. And that... my friend... begins right now.

Cole Adams slides into the ring and grapples with Criminal. After dropping to one knee and delivering a low blow, Cole sends him to the corner and immediately sets him up for The Saint Drop. Dropping him down to the mat, Cole drags him to the middle of the ring and hooks the leg for the pin.

1...

...2

NO! NKWC FORCES A SHOULDER UP!

“Actually, my real name is North Korean War Criminal.

My parents were hilarious.

You want to make fun of my name? Your name is Cole Adams.

Cole FUCKING Adams.

You might as well be named Tapioca Pudding or Paper Plate or CAUCASIAN MAN.

I got drowsy READING YOUR NAME. That’s the big risk stepping into the ring with you.

Your Saint Drop didn’t knock me out, IT PUT ME TO SLEEP.

Rule of thumb: Want to entertain an audience? Don’t tell them exactly what’s going to happen. It illustrates how predictable your work in the ring is.

I don’t know how you could be so thoroughly stupid on every front. It’s actually astounding.

If you think Shane signed me to profit off of existing current events?

Shane blew me up with a tank two years ago. (Look it up, True (Korean) Believers!))

No. Current events didn’t spawn me. I spawned those current events. The nuclear tests to inspire fear in the American populace, the sanctions on the North Korean people that will make them support further nuclear testing.

The endless cycle of violence and war. By my design.

I twist, I pull, I maneuver the puppet strings. When I want something to happen, it happens. And I want you to take your middle-of-the-road 6-out-of-10 trash talk and get the fuck off out of my division.

What makes me relevant? The fact that I am feared, that the changes I promise are happening. THAT THE ENTIRE LANDSCAPE OF THE XWF IS SHIFTING BECAUSE I WILL IT SO.

You think anyone gives a shit about some rookie that joined last week? You say you’re talking a big game? I sure as Hell didn’t see anything new come from your mouth.

Same old garbage every newbie that wants to make an impact shits out their baby-wet facehole.

In-ring ability? In the two years since I joined the XWF, I’ve never lost a match. Look it up, you uninformed sack of shit.

You want to talk about how obvious it is I’m struggling here? Apologies, but it seems one of us has made $62,830 of your American X-Bux since re-signing with the company 10 DAYS AGO!

ALL OF TEN DAYS TO GET ON THE LIST FOR HIGHEST EARNING WRESTLERS IN THE XWF.

Meanwhile, you’re sitting at… $1,483, in almost the same time frame…
Jesus. If you were in the 24/7 division, which seems to be your goal swinging at me, that’s $8.82 an hour.

Someone’s moving up in the world! I bet this beats your last job of flipping burgers and mopping floors, you unskilled bearded homeless-looking fuckhead.

Live your dreams! (of just-above-minimum-wage.)

Now. Pack up and get out. Cuz one promo in and you’re already beat.”

NKWC delivers a Hero’s Honorable Thumb-To-The-Eye to Cole Adams. One Thrust Kick later and Cole is up-and-over the top ropes.

The official begins a ten-count.

The official reaches five and yet Adams lies on the mat outside the ring immobile.

“How… thoroughly underwhelming.”

“One kick and you’re out, huh?”

“Appropriate. This kind of played out like your XWF career will.”

“You start strong, you turn a fair number of heads, get the attention of a decision maker or two and then what?”

“Whole lot of nothing.”

“I mean, jeez, if this belt is the one thing keeping me from irrelevance…”

“From where do you derive your inherent value?”

“Your lackluster mic skills?”

“Your already-overrated ringwork?”

“Or your accomplishments in that wrestling graveyard for road hacks, UHW?

“Tommy Wish put up more of a fight and HE’S TOMMY FUCKING WISH.”

“Sorry, Cole. If you had actually been paying attention to the current XWF climate instead of sniffing the fumes of your own hype like Peter Gilmour with a magic marker, you’d know Gladiator’s problem with me is that he cannot control me. That I’m not allegiant to anything he stands for. That I can’t be bribed or bought or convinced to do anything outside of my existing plans.”

“If he wants to give me $45,000 per attack to finance my current military campaign against the X-Treme championship, fine.”

“If he wants to bribe the weakest and hungriest of the XWF (Tommy Gunn, you) into taking a swing and earn me $7,000 per defense.”

“Bring them on.”

“But he knows who’s in control. He doesn’t have grip on a leash, he’s throwing food to a wild lion, trying to alter its course. And the lion always circles back to its big meal...”

“He’s been staving off temporary nuisances by feeding the soldier bent on his company’s destruction.”

“He can reach as far as he wants into the XWF’s unimaginably deep pockets, but no matter how many bills he wads in his fist.”

“The goal never changes.”

“Progress never stops.”

“And the end looms.”

“Let’s talk about goals, Cole.”

“What is your goal?”

“To make the UHW mainstream, that dead organization, the one that made you D-List famous? Maybe supplement your income and sell a couple ‘UHW: The Best of Cole Adams’ DVDs?”

“Cuz if your goal is the XWF, fuck off. Until you start stacking wins here, you’re the bottom. No one’s heard of you. No one cares about you.”

“This is the top. Previous work experience ain’t worth dick.”

“Welcome. And get out.”

“And if you’re eying the Intercontinental Championship?”

“Best of luck. Sincerely. Make it happen.”

“Cuz you have a better chance stealing a win over lazy hedonist American Tush on one of his off-weeks than you do outwrestling me.”

“I didn’t start saying I was better than Sid Feder to clear my throat, kid.”

“I’m the best there ever was.”

“Good luck on your climb out of the gutter I just knocked you into. Next time you come after this thing, you call it by its True name.”

“Glory to the NorthKoreanWarCriminalweight championship.”

“Glory to True Korea.”

7…

8…

Girard walks by casually sipping a martini as a nearby official counts to ten. He throws NKWC the Federweight Championship as he shakes his head at Cole Adams.

Winner and STILL FederNorthKoreanWarCriminalweight Champion: North Korean War Criminal!