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Drew Archyle · (06-30-2015)

Didn't I tell you to come back when you had a chance? Or did I just think that? Either way I'm definitely telling you now. Go back, lift some more weights, go a little lighter on the guyliner and then come back to me when you have a foot to stand on you insignificunt dickbag. And please, please stop telling yourself this one is going to be different than the last one. It won't. Just like it won't be any different the next time. Or the next time or the next time. Now as far as you're concerned.

Now I have no doubt in my mind that you've watched countless hours of tape on me, you had to have in order to find any tape on me. And even then you came up short, just like every time you look down your pants and wonder why God hates you so much. News flash asshat, I haven't had a match. Thus. There is no tape. There's no DVD's or Blu Rays, not even any HD DVD's of my matches. Because there haven't been any. So I have no idea what it is you watched but it certainly wasn't any of my matches. I don't walk around this place like I'm the top dog but I certainly don't open my mouth and sound like a bottom bitch either. Unlike some assholes I know.

Now as for this shiny piece of hardware called the Federweight title, yeah I earned it. I earned it when I took it off the always rotting corpse of John Black. And then I reaffirmed that by making you look like the blithering bitchass that you are when you tried knocking on my door and taking what doesn't belong to you. See, that's how earning things works. You want something you take it. Unless of course you're you in which case you just shit the bed like you came down with a sudden bout of C.Diff.

Catch my drift...son.

God damn that felt good.

Drew kicks out and walks off embarrassed for Fontanna.

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