Once more, this promo was recorded on the tape recorder. There isn't a scene to open up to, just blackness as the audio plays. How fucking boring. Oh well, it fits the subject matter pretty damn well.

"Aloha, greetings, go fuck yourselves. Once more, this is Luca Arzegotti, because who would steal my shtick of talking into a tape recorder? Probably a lot of these rookies thinking that no one would know. Y'know, like Hunter Payne tried to be a big comedian and wasn't funny. Now he spends his promo time being a priest. How long till he rapes more kids than his tag partner, Deano?

And no, I don't mean Dino, Dean Martin. I wish I could talk about him, but that wouldn't really fit in with everything else. Then again, people always want me to be more positive..."

A small chuckle can be heard on the recording. Definitely not Luca's laugh, it sounds distinctly feminine.

"Hey, how have you motherfuckers been?"

Oh shit, it's Katrina! Now, where the hell has she been for Luca's most recent promos? Why am I asking you that question? Who decided to give the narrator this much time for this one line? GOD FUCKING DAM-

"So Luca, what have I missed in the last couple weeks?"

"Not a thing! There hasn't been any evolution to speak of from anyone whatsoever! Charlotte still wants Satty's space cock, except now he's some kind of demon antichrist thing, as if we haven't seen that before..."

"Oh wow, I think that the first thing that should be tested before people get hired is if they have an original thought in their fucking skulls."

"Don't disagree with you in the slightest. Oh wait, there's also this new congregation of people who actually use Twitter! Oh good God I'm going to have a field day with that one."

"Twitter? Isn't Instagram the new thing now?"

"I thought it was that Vine shit..."

"No, that went under when Instagram did some shit."

"What the fuck's Instagram, and why are we talking about this?"

"I don't know either, let's stop. This is draining my IQ."

"Yeah, any more of that and we'd end up just like the Twitter team."

"True. So, anything else?"

"Well, Alex Shawn took a few shots at me..."

"The who's more obsessed with Satty than Charlotte?"

"Yeah, him."

"Please just kill him."

"Ahem. Hey Alex, how have you been? Feeling confident that you're about to win the Crimson Dong championship? Y'know, the thing that boosted me to relevancy and won't have the same effect on you. Now, why's that last fact true? Look at who's held that belt lately...

Crimson Dong.

Dean Moxley McGovern.

Matt Lennox.

Steve Davids.

And Stevie Tyler.

If those five names don't kill the value of the fucking thing, I don't know what will. Tony, Orange, and you are all shit out of luck, because even if you hold that thing, no one's going to give you any respect for it. The damage has already been done, and adding your pathetic double first name ass to the list of champions will only further kill the title. Maybe I can convince Shane to kill the title before the match even happens, to save it the humiliation of having any of you wastes of a paycheck claim it. You also want to talk about some other promotion as if anyone gave a fuck? I have half a mind to compare you to a man named Drake Younger, but I'm not.

Wanna know why?

Because unlike you, Drake Younger can win something. What did you do, beat Swift "Steroids for breakfast" Ion? Cool story bro, a table beat him. Woody's pretty cool and all, but come on. Anyone can beat Swift "Buys a Thai Prostitute, but doesn't bother checking for a dick or for an ID" Ion. Want proof of that?

You beat him.

There you go, the biggest moment of your career that I wasn't involved in. You can talk all you want about how you attacked me with a beer bottle, because you ended up getting taken out by Unknown Soldier, who lost to me. That's your swan song.

Attacking me from behind.

Cool fucking story, bro.

Not that I'm shaming you for it, but that's all you got on me.

That's it."

"Like always, you never disappoint!"

"You say that as if there was a doubt! I'm not Mark Flynn."

"Yeah, you definitely aren't!"

Then the recording goes dead. No reason, it didn't even sound like they were finished. It just cut out. Damn Luca, using that old ass tape recorder! Who does he think he is? Fuck him, I'm going to quit this job as his narrator! Oh wait, I'm a nameless, faceless entity.

That's not true, I have a name! It's Jeff!

Man, fuck this job.

Sadly, I'm under contract.

Never shoulda gambled against Luca.

It's like he hides an ace up his sleeve.

Wait a minute...

...He does.

Fuck my life.