" No, Maverick, you may not ask me for a thing; in fact your requested match sounded like nothing more than putrid borborygmus to me. What year do you live in? Tables match? Did time truly forget to cripple you in its linear grip the way it's done so many of these others? "

" Regarding your funds, Maverick, you have quite a bit more to offer than John Samuels himself. He's almost not worth having in this match at all, save for my slight desire to stand over his fallen body with my foot over his throat and remind him that he asked for, or more appropriately begged for my attention like a starving mooncalf crying for a milkteet. "

" Tush, whatever you are, should you find your way into this match as an official I shall gladly rip the tongue from your mouth and promptly insert it— along with my whole fist—into Vincent Lane's mouth. Then maybe, just maybe, with two tongues to work with, that homely harridan will finally be able to form one English word that actually applies to a real life situation in a corr…no, no… no he won't. Disregard that thought. "