Mega.

It’s megastar, Doc.

I don’t want to keep fighting with you, dude, especially after you just made me feel all warm and fuzzy by saying I was pretty. You should watch out though, man, people will figure out just how light those loafers are if you keep squeezing on this fresh fruit here.

It’s just weird to me, you know, that you mention the importance of winning titles when here we are, me defending, you pursuing. You think the Feder is a meaningless bauble, a cheap trinket, something for a rube – and you’re right! I mean, we all saw when I came to collect it from the little guy that I was just doing it to point out how simple it was for me to do versus how insurmountable the task of collecting one single accolade of any meaning whatsoever seemed for Austin Fernando, right?

Meanwhile, you’ve got a meaningless crown and a shiny briefcase guaranteeing that someday you’ll take the easy way to a cheap title reign, and you marched right up to have another worthless accomplishment like this added to your resume. It’s the passive aggressive equivalent to pissing into the wind, man.

I know what you’re trying to do, by the way, comparing me to Fernando… you think drawing a comparison between me and my opponent will get into my head, shake me up.

No.

You’re right. He’s like me. He’s the toast of the town and got the attention of the right people at the right time. The thing is though, he won’t make it last whereas I will.

You might also be right about no one else remembering when you and I went the distance. The thing is though, I’ll remember. I’ll remember the way your breathing changed when you got tired, the way you started to move slower, the way your eyes watered, the way you started to give up. To be sure, you dug deep and caught me off guard but Doc… dude… that kind of thing doesn’t happen twice, man.

Doc, your reputation is what’s keeping that X-Treme Title around your waist, not your ability. You said yourself how disappointed you were that people didn’t flock to your challenge. No one even bothers pinning you anymore, for the most part. You’ve got it easy. Anyone can hold a belt when no one worthwhile tries to take it from him.

And dude, ease up on the Underground cheap shots, okay? Don’t me angry that someone else has friends while you’re sitting by yourself at the lunch table by the bathrooms.

Do me one favor before we’re done here for the night, okay?

Tell me how you lost the eye, Cyclops.

Loverboy kicks out and kips up, tossing the Dusty doll aside after catching a whiff of ladies' perfume on it. He then goes to the microwave and heats up some popcorn, wondering if it will interfere with D'Ville's pacemaker.