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Barney Green · (07-28-2019)

You can call me Detective Barney Green at this point in my career. I dunno what to do at this point. Opponents have been silent and haven't really said or done anything.

Mick Ashcroft. More like... Mick Borecroft. You know how many wannabe vampire emo twits have walked through the XWF's hallowed halls. Yet I still remain. Nothing really scares me anymore. I have seen the horrors of Scatbear yet kept coming back.

Drezdin. The only clown that doesn't make me laugh and actually makes me seem like the best competitor the XWF has to offer. I at least put the effort in even if I know I am going out to slaughter. You just do whatever you feel like.

Stigmartyr has stayed silent. Typical. Name sounds like some crappy hip hop group anyway. What can you do to intimidate me? Nothing.

I don't see the need or even have the energy to even wrestle a full-time schedule anymore. Once "Like A Prayer" hits, it will be all over for all of you or something. I don't even know why they are even allowing me to cut a promo against you guys.

It's too easy. Going at this like my name was Bobby Flay. Chopping up the competition. See that shit right there? Straight up garbage nonsense just spewing out my mouth. It works because it draws people into what I am saying and makes them think I am reaching out to them.

Sit back and enjoy the ride I take you all on. Born on the 19th of February in 1984 and ready to raise some hell once that bell rings. I could swear to get my point across. In fact, let's see if that gets anybody's attention. In today's fucking era, I can talk about cock sucking and mother fucking.

I have seen some awful shit in my life though. Growing up and treated like an afterthought by most of your family. The one that isn't supposed to be successful yet is. I don't even really exercise unless you count getting pounded by trannies and sucking cock all night long. I look like a melted candle now because of it but that hasn't affected anything. Still got that five pounds of American cock meat between my legs.

Cue up "Jane" by Jefferson Starship as I head on out into Leap Of Faith. Its gonna be alright. The man who lives in his van will stand tall at the end of the day. I may not be freshly squeezed but that's alright. This is my moment. My legacy is on the line or something. I don't even know at this point. Losing focus as the days get shorter and the nights get longer.

Do you like that approach? Maybe I should just talk about my many sexual conquests but as time draws near, I am just some guy. Whether I am "The Boston Brawler" or "The All-Night Tranny Thrilla", I got the power and the will to keep on going. Sleepless nights in the van. The fans keep me going. This is like totally dumb and stupid. I don't know what else to say at this point so bye.

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