"E": You've got a lot of nerve, you soft penis milk maid, were you breastfed until 12 years old or something? I do not know you. I do not know why I should care. And I don't know why someone of such little value would put their life on the line. It seems there are a few things that I...do not know.

Here's something I DO know...

I know I'm gonna beat your ass Doc, beat it to the fucking ground. There are few things clearer in my mind. But in this profession, especially the corner we occupy, there's a certain delusion with which we need to self medicate in order face some of the twisted challenges put before us. Believe me, the lies and half truths I've had to feed myself to get here could scare the mean off an alligator. I won't be surprised if you think you could beat me, so I'm gonna give you a quick rundown of what you can expect from me.

I'm probably gonna hammer you a couple times in the center of the ring, knocking you on your knees. Then, I'm gonna charge you into the corner and smash at your head until you want to vomit and your eyes feel like they're gonna pop out of your skull. Then, I'm gonna throw you around the ring, back and forth, back and forth, until your ankles have rolled to all degrees, and the shin splints make you beg for amputation. You're probably gonna try and take it to the ground and slow things up, but I'll have more knees in your gut than a church pew. Around then, I'll probably leaving you standing all stupid like in the center of the ring, waiting for me to barrel into you like a fucking freight train, then pick you up and drop you on your fucking skull for the 1, 2, 3.

I'd give you the opportunity to rethink your challenge, but since you called me by name, and you happen to have the stunted intellect of a child who thinks invoking someone's mother is the most vicious, most clever tactic in an argument, I've decided I'm going to put your ass in the ground. While I'm pounding your skull with my elbows, whatever twisted machismo that led to you calling my name will spill down your trunks and If you can walk by the end of our match, I'll be breathless. Now go hop back up whichever nasty asshole you got squirted from.